Historically, my sister gives me some awesome gifts. They’re typically one-of-a-kind items made by her and always entertaining. For example, I now have a Grease 2 T-shirt, the best T-shirt ever. You might think you have a better shirt, but I assure you that you don’t.
I’m not entirely sure when Adrian Zmed became the focus of our private jokes. I think it began around the beginning of “the boyfriend game,” in which we would see someone on TV or in a photo and say, “That’s your boyfriend.”
So far, a running TJ Hooker is the best you can do. A Rip Taylor throwing confetti is excellent, a Carrot Top in any setting is a winner, and I would even say that Andrew Dice Clay has now made the list of pretty good ones. I think you get the point of the game.
My sister's boyfriend
You can play it with your friends if you want to and I won’t even charge you royalties or nail you with trademark infringement, because I don’t know if that works and it’s not trademarked and I don’t even know what a trademark is. That said, I probably won’t figure out how to sue you, even though I will try, so just have fun with it.
But this post isn’t about the game at all. It’s about the weirdest fucking gift I’ve ever received in my life. It’s the creepiest, most bizarre… I don’t even know what in hell these things are. I don’t understand them. I stare at them and wonder, “What the fuck are these things and why do I love them so?”
Every time I look at them, I sing a little song in my head and I can’t help it. It’s hard to put into words, mainly because I know so few. Let me just show you what they are, and then I’ll write the lyrics down… you can put it to music.
“We come from the ground with tea and song… la di da… la di da…”
As you can clearly see, these things are totally creepy things. They are people growing out of the ground and their eyes scare me. I can’t help but be transfixed each time I glance in their general direction. I love them. I hate them. They cause me turmoil, yet I need to see them. I am lost. I am found.
I don’t know what any of that means. They’re just so weird. I enjoy them for their oddness, and my mom actually gets the credit for their initial spotting, but it was my sister who decided I should have them. And I should, though I don’t know why.
I imagine there are people who love them, because to them, they aren’t at all strange. I want to meet those people. And then there are the people who said, “You know what I’m going to make? Bohemian half-people who play music and serve beverages. You know, so you can stick them in the ground and enjoy them. It’s like, ‘Hey, party people. Now that you’re in the yard, let’s sing folk songs and drink herbal tea.’ I’m going to make them right now. Why are you looking at me like that? You’ll see.”
I don’t know. There could be a whole industry or collectors of these things, and if that’s the case, why? I would also like to have more of them. Does that make sense? Probably not. Anyway, if you see any, please get them for me and I will likely reimburse you.
I want a whole field of half-friends waiting with smiles and biscuits and stuff. I want an entire army of creepy, ceramic half-lings with all sorts of snacks and drinks to offer. I want hundreds of little creepy eyes greeting my guests, and when people arrive I want them to say, “Those things are fucking creepy. Why are they everywhere?”
And then I’ll say, “They just want to make you happy. Can’t you see that?” And then I’ll start reeling off their names and a menu of what each is serving while I stroke their hard hair and giggle. I have goals, is what I’m saying. Help me get there. I can’t do it without you.
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Clearly I am undeserving of that boyfriend seeing as I give you awesome gifts. Way to be grateful. Oh well, Christmas is just around the corner….
Ok, I’ll re-purpose the Dice Clay and say your boyfriend is… let’s say a drunk David Hasselhoff eating a burger.
Ok. Your boyfriend is a Crispin Glover attempting to roundhouse kick David Letterman. Wait. That’s kind of cool. Ok. Your boyfriend is Michael Bolton doing anything except Ashley Judd.
Dude, you can’t trademark that boyfriend game even if you wanted to because friends and I made up that game. We’ve been playing it for years.
I’m gonna sue you…for that Grease 2 t-shirt, because man, that is awesome.
As it would happen, Apryl reminded me that the boyfriend game first appeared in the movie “Casual Sex” and, though I did not remember this, Andrew Dice Clay was the first ever boyfriend. Coincidences are awesome.
The circle is complete.
A t-shirt with my mustached face on it would make a great gift, you know.
I agree. Apryl, please make a note. As you said, Christmas is right around the corner.
Done.
Clearly you are a lyrical poet…la ti da…
I’ve been called the song bird of my generation.
I’m really, sincerely jealous that you have a Grease 2 shirt. I remember when it came out, I was like “Wow. WOW. Sequels aren’t usually that good, but WOW. That? Was rad.” and then I sang “Let’s Do It For Our Country” over and over for about 9 years straight.
I will trade you one bohemian half person for a lamp made from a gourd that is fashioned into the head of a sad puppy. No? A purse shaped like a sandwich? What about a framed drawing of Alf making out with Charlton Heston? Yeah, my brother’s good like that too.
Your brother and I should open a store.
I’m sending you some of my public hair for the holiday.
Nope, that isn’t a mistype. My mustache will be in a bag. A bag with your name on it.
Related : Where the hell are you? Post more, lazy bones.