…in all da wong paces……Listening the other day to the classic sounds of Buh-weet singing “Wookin Pa Nub,” I was thankful that I have already found true love, in the form of RCG (Random Cute Guy) at the rink, whose name I don’t actually know. YET. Minor details. Of course, being deliriously overjoyed at my sure-to-be future state of bliss (assuming I ever see RCG again), my current goal in life is to see everyone else as happy as I am. Well, along with the goal of getting those idiot people at JAY’S to give us our fricking sponsorship before I go into the poorhouse from buying all these cheez doodles to fuel my RIGOROUS TRAINING REGIMEN. But I digress.
It does, however, seem to me that our little team needs some help, particularly some of the menfolk. Now, Kevin seems to be all set in the romance department, luring women in with the promise of being able to play with his vast and extensive Pez dispenser collection. Chuck is happily married. Mr. Peabody, aka Ryan, “claims” to have a “girlfriend,” but have we seen her? Or for that matter, have we seen the Big P himself lately?? No, he seems to have eluded us, not a peep in over a week – Team, I think it’s time for an intervention. And Max is single. So, Ryan and Max, I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of posting profiles for both of you on Match.com – now all you have to do is wait for true love to come rolling in. Umm, I forget the exact details of what I wrote, but please try to sound knowledgeable about winning the Nobel Prize, in between jetting off to the Cote d’Azure for a weekend jaunt on the beach, okay? And, umm, try to appear independently wealthy. And if you don’t have tattoos, could you quickly get some? Thanks! That appears to be all the rage these days with the young people. The rest is all a blur.
Oh sure, it’s a bit of a scattershot approach, but hey, even a blind pig finds an acorn once in a while. And after all, aren’t we all really just, well, wookin pa nub?