You know the rest…
“Have you worn that wig I sent you recently? I was thinking that this is a natural lull in the school year, and that the women at your college could probably use a change of pace coming off Spring Break and St. Patty’s Day, where they were probably hit on at a higher rate than the normal 3.6 times per day, and therefore could stand to see something fresh, like a weird 18 year old wearing a chestnut brown wig like it’s a pair of sunglasses. Totally normal. If you need another wig I have a great one called “Black Elvis” I could send you. Made of rubber. Real conversation starter. “Are you wearing a wig?” “Why yes, dumbass, I am. And I’m wearing it because I’m fucking awesome. Now give me the things I want.” Something like that is an acceptable response. Give it a go this weekend.”
I haven’t worn the wig since that night first semester where it actually worked wonders, so maybe tonight is a good night. Wish me luck.
I think this is the one!
Until later, here’s a text from this morning…
“Make sure to watch a lot of porn today before Vegas. BUT DON’T JERK IT. This is called the Fire Hose– a signature Vegas move of mine.”
I’m making a playlist as I type:
“Shit forgot to remind you to listen to lots of rap music today. Rap is only music that understands Vegas, even when it’s not talking about it. I don’t care if the Eagles make a song called “Explaining Las Vegas,” it wouldn’t have half the Vegasisms of a Three 6 Mafia song about Memphis. Rappers understand excess, bitches, unnecessary champagne and the importance of loud music better than anyone on earth. And that’s what we’re going for. So throw some old Jay-Z on your iPod and get fired up!”
100 of them. I called and he didn’t answer. I texted and he wrote back:
“Of course I did asshole! I ordered the Spring Break package. You will need most of them this weekend no homo.”
I appreciate it and all, since buying condoms is annoying and awkward, but it’s also just weird as fuck to get condoms from your brother.
They are Durex "Love" brand.
Major. After promising me that he’d pay for my spring break (“Pick the place and you’re there with housing. 6 nights.”) he did a complete 180 and said he didn’t want me to going to Mexico, where a lot of my friends are going, because he thinks someone will kidnap and rape me. Then when I offered up Lake Havasu, where a couple of my pledge brothers are going, he called that idea “gay as fuck” and refused to pay for it too. And tonight he called me and said that he’s taking me to Las Vegas instead because he has a friend’s bachelor party there. So maybe my loss is your gain, because now instead of being in Cancun for a week with my friends, I’m going to be in Las Vegas for four days with my brother. After our talk he emailed me this:
“Remember– beggars can’t be choosers, but they can be losers. Don’t be down. We’re gonna have fun. I’ll get you a hooker. We’ll be Sheening like a motherfucker.”