Speedwalk through the art gathering: “Great work!” “Love it!” “Too contemporary, don’t you think?”
“I say, old man, could I get a 90 percent discount on these tickets? I’ll only pop in for a moment, thanks!” “What do you mean you don’t do that?” That should leave enough time to scissor-poke the ticket attendant in the eyes before exiting stooge left.
Just gonna keg-stand Budweister for 10 minutes straight; that ought to cover it!
Run drunkenly through downtown Detroit, clanging symbols and singing the Three Stooges theme. And the Budweiser theme.
Stream Jon Stewart from Youtube while you find the pants you lost in Detroit somewhere.
Stumble into the restaurant, WITH PANTS <this is important, it’s nana’s birthday for pete’s sake!> and sing happy birthday for ten minutes straight. Your voice should be all warmed up from previously.
Go ahead and just flip the bird in the general direction of the Arts Prize show, 'cause you’re not gonna like who they pick anyway. Just try not to let granny see you.
“There, that ought to cover it! Thanks for the suggestion, mate!”
I made the mistake of joking that canning pears is torture and happened to bring Guantanamo prisoners into it. (In order to process pears at home you have to peel them, cut them, scoop out the core and then take that fibrous thing out of the upper part of the pear. It takes time and it’s very messy. My kitchen was a sticky mess when I was done and I was very tired.) Apparently, it has not been long enough since Guantanamo was a news story because my joke did not go over well. One woman posted that I should just be grateful that I have the ability to can the pears and another woman posted about how great prisoners have it in jail because they get to watch tv and use exercise equipment and get actual food and stuff.
I ignored them both. It was so awkward that everyone else ignored the post after that as well.