Entry 124: Caleb And Krust Threaten The Universe Over A Sammich

If your friend was starving you would buy them a sandwich, right?  Isn't that what friends are for?  Well recently I needed a sammich, and my friend Krust decided she wasn't going to give me one.  Here's the email conversation that ensued:

*It should be noted that Krust is a rabid, psychotic, and unstable New Kids On The Block fan.

Me: "Had you answered your phone, perhaps I could have had a delicious and fulfilling lunch.  As it is, I had a bag of peanuts and some chips.

Hope you're happy."

Krust: "All the Whos down in Whoville cried boooooooo hooooooooooooooooo..... ;)"

Caleb: "If I had a Delorean, I would go back in time to where you still believed in Santa.  Then I, with cackling glee, would tell you there was no Santa and watch you cry.

Get back in the car, go back again, repeat.

That's the way I feel about you."

Krust: "Oh yeah? Well...what you don't realize is I was just *pretending* to cry so that you would be preoccupied with your cackling...thus giving me the opportunity to kick you square in the jimmy, steal the Delorean, go even further back in time, and punch you in the neck as soon as  you emerged from your mom's stanky vajeen.

That's the way *I* feel about *you*."

Caleb: "Cold.

What you DON'T know is that I was born with mad karate skills.  So your attempted punching would be met with my tiny fists of fury.  I would then take my first piss of life on your bloody face and whip you with my umbilical cord. After locking you in a basement until I was 16 (and could get my license), I would reenter the Delorean, go back farther in time and stop the birth of each NKOTB.

Suck that one."

Krust: "Yeah but see I actually escaped from the basement, traveled forward in time, and banged each of the New Kids (except instead of banging Danny I just did Joe twice...Danny's gross...) before you had a chance to negate their existence. Soooo....since I already banged 'em, you wiping them off the face of the earth was really no consequence to me.

Oh...and I slipped you some roofies, took you with me in the time machine, and took pictures of you with all the New Kids' wieners in your mouth....even Danny. No no no wait...ESPECIALLY Danny."

Caleb: "Curse you!

Do you realize how many alternate realities our hate-fantasies have created? 

Hope you're happy.  You could have avoided all this by just buying me a sandwich!"

Krust: "I know, right? Sometimes in life we miss the simplest solutions. I'm pretty sure we just royally hatef*cked the space-time continuum.

Our bad."

This is our standard level of maturity.  Please note that, because I hate the red, squiggly auto correct lines,  I had to add to the dictionary: "Stanky" "Vajeen" "Delorean" and "Hatef*cked." Oh, and "NKOTB."

Caleb

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Entry 123: Help Me Go To Law School!

Hey peeps-

I was drafting a personal statement for my application admissions.  Tell me what you think of it!  All critiques welcome.

                Try as I might, producing any sort of a pleasant sound on my new trumpet seemed impossible.  After inheriting my father’s trumpet and collection of old jazz records in seventh grade I had an idea of what a trumpet should sound like, but sadly after my first three full days of practicing I just couldn’t get my rendition of Mack the Knife to sound anything like Louis Armstrong’s .   Luckily, and unbeknownst to me at the time, I had a peculiar trait that others would later describe as “stubborn.”  I didn’t have the confrontational form of stubbornness that often gives the term a bad name, but rather the type of playful persistence that would lead me to coax, plead, bargain with, and befriend any challenge that I set before myself.  Pursuing a dream of being a professional trumpet player not only allowed me the chance to earn a degree in music, but taught me that striving for a goal can be as rewarding as achieving a goal.

                Despite having a natural aptitude and abiding love for playing music, circumstances beyond my control during my last two years of college forced me to look outside of music and see that my curiosity and enthusiasm were more broad-minded than I realized.  After taking medication to control a mild case of hereditary tremors for several years, the quivering of my hands and lips worsened to the point where medication no longer helped.  Though I joked about my new style of vibrato, I was disheartened by the prognosis I received from doctors at the Mayo clinic. I was told my options were to either increase my current medication to levels that would cause severe side-effects or to attempt experimental surgery and implant an electronic chip in my brain.  I am still not convinced that the doctor who recommended the latter was not pulling my leg, but I nonetheless decided to scale back my ambitions of trumpet playing and focus more on other areas of interest. 

                A fact that I had not appreciated until this decision was how many hours per day were necessary to play an instrument at a high level; after circumstances allowed me to reign in my practice routine I found myself with more time in the day than I knew what to do with.  I ended up using much of this time to vigorously throw myself into the issues that were presented in my classes, and not a small amount of time seeking out new and exciting hobbies.  I found that I could experience a similar level of creative satisfaction from presenting a lengthy speech about modern education reform as I could from mastering the art of cleaning out the carburetors on a snowmobile.   More importantly, I learned a valuable and personal lesson about seeing setbacks as opportunities. 

                While my growth as a trumpet player had stalled, my drive to better myself on a daily basis had only increased.  It became easy for me to translate the discipline of musical training to other subjects.  Today I can just as readily picture myself as a sports announcer as see myself working on deciphering the human genome.  A career as a fiction writer is as plausible as managing a small business.  Despite a wide range of interests, I have always held a special place in my heart for logic, reason, and a well-crafted argument.  The process of creating a strong argument and defending a certain point of view contain a lot of the same intense and improvisatory elements for me as playing a live jazz solo.  The unrivaled enjoyment of using my mind in this capacity leaves no doubt that I want to become a lawyer, and using my talents to create a more just and peaceful world is my undeniable calling.

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Entry 122: An Old, Old, Wooden Ship.

Used during the Civil War.

PS if you don't know what movie that's from, go put your head in a microwave.

I've been busy so I thought I would update you on The Haps:

#1 LSAT

I received my score (finally) for my second run of the LSAT and kicked its monkey ass.  Hence,  I've been busy throwing together applications and picking out law schools.  Here's what is kind of funny about this:

After you sign up for the LSAT, you start getting emails from schools telling you to apply there because they've waived the application fee (usually around $75).  These are usually the "St. Mary's School of Law/Tire Repair Center" sorts of schools, so they go straight to the garbage bin.

After my first test- which was good but not great- I started getting emails from at least some respectable schools.  Granted, some schools never waive their fees for anybody, but I was still getting the suspicion that scores are released to schools ahead of any applications.

After this test, which rocked, I've been getting top schools offering to waive their fees.  Good deal, right?  But do I really want to go to UCLA or Virginia?  Not particularly. 

But here's the funny part.  I received an email from the University of Alabama law program (craptastic from what I've read) and was going to delete it, but first I saw this gem:

If you apply, we’ll:

1. Waive your application fee, and

2. Present you with 20 free music downloads on iTunes® 

Seriously? Bribing students to apply with iTunes downloads? 

#2 Crossfit

I went to one 'test' workout, got my ass kicked, and have since gone to another (for another ass whooping) and signed up.  It's ridiculously expensive, but an awesome workout and some of the chicks there have legs/asses like I've never seen.  Sorry, but it's the truth.

#3 Riding A Bull

I won't be providing an explanation for this one.

I've also drank for 6 nights straight, made fun of a girl for having puffy cheeks because I didn't know she had Crohn's disease, had the best cup of coffee ever, slept on a wooden floor with my coat as a pillow, and had my car crunched in a hit-and-run.

Maybe it's time to calm down life a notch.

Nah.

Caleb "My poor car"  Shreves Tweet

Entry 121: Too. Many. Commercials!

I don't have TV.  I have A TV, but no cable or anything hooked in.  I'm a Netflix/Xbox man.  So I rarely get to watch any commercials.

I also listen to three comedy stations on Sirius satellite radio.  Remember that whole "satellite is commercial free!" bullshit?  Yeah, that's out the fuckin window.  There is NO avoiding commercials on Sirius comedy channels.  And, for whatever reason, most of them are for debt-reduction companies, sex toy websites, and penis enlargers.   Quite a combo, I know.

Basically they must be assuming that you're out for a massive dong to shove into your expensive fake-vagina while consolidating your credit card payments.  F'd up.

Sometimes before you can switch the channel you find yourself hypnotized by commercials.  It's weird.  One in particular always tricks me.  It starts like this:

Voice: "Let's make a deal.  I'll give you one-hundred dollars, and you give me one-thousand dollars.  Sound like a good deal? Well that's what you're doing every time you use your credit card..."  Blah blah blah.  

I hear it and yell, "NO! Your deal is STUPID!"  And then I turn the channel.

But later, I'll hear it again. "Let's make a deal.  I'll give you one-hundred dollars, and you give me one-thousand dollars..."

"NO!  I told you last time- that's STUPID! GOD!"

Later, I'll be listening to some comic who probably sucks because they play shitty comics on Sirius all the time, and it'll come on again.  And, again, I'll flip the channel.

But this time, I have a slight pause. 

Why? What? Was I considering that deal?  No.  That's dumb. $100 for $1,000.  Who'd fall for THAT!?

Lewis Black just got done.  Wonder who's going to be on ne-

"Let's make a deal.  I'll give you one-hundred dollars, and you give me one-thousand dollars..."

"GODDAMNIT NO!  Well, I mean, do I get the hundred now?  Cuz... NO. Wait.  Absolutely not."

Hmm.  Sam Kinison.  Sweet.  He's so loud.  And funny. 

Dane Cook! Wicked.  He's never on. Can't believe how many people think I remind them of Dane Cook.  Cuz he's like-

"Let's make a deal.  I'll give you one-hundred dollars, and you give me one-thousand dollars..."

"Bitch.  If you don't shut up about this deal, I'm going to come over to your house, buy you a puppy, wait three months, come back, sneak into your house in the middle of the night, and punch you in the face."

"Let's make a deal.  I'll give you one-hundred dollars, and you give me one-thousand dollars..."

"You know what? Fine.  Fine. Have your fucking $1,000.  Maybe I'll invest the hundred and make twelve-hundred and then pay you off and have extra money!  Then your little story won't end so fucking well! Ha!"

It's about at this point that I realize that I have been duped by a commercial.  I would actually take her deal now.  The first time I heard it?  No way.  But now she's got me convinced.  She can have my money.

That's the power of commercials.  Thank God I don't have TV!

Now I'm off to buy some lube and some pills.  They have to work, right?

Caleb "Raw Dog channel 104 Sirius-XM satellite radio" Shreves Tweet

Entry 120: Interview With OMGHOT Elizabeth Hurley

Here's another completely fictitious interview between me and (OMG hot) Elizabeth Hurley:

EH: "Well hello there Caleb, it's nice to finally meet you."

Me: "Shamanananamama...."

EH: "Caleb? Are you allright?"

Me: "Shamanana...er...manamana.  ::sings muppet song::  You ever seen that skit?  Mahna-mahna? It's, uh, good.  Right.  You're pretty."

EH: "Why thank yo-"

Me: "No stop!  I wasn't finished.  You're pretty... good at bowling.  I hear. Yeah, that was my sentence.  (Calm down Caleb, calm down...)"

EH: "Um... well, I wouldn't say that. Actually not much of a bowler."

Me:  ::Loud fake laugh:: "Hahaha! What a wit.  Anyway, let's get down to it.  I mean, the interview.  Right.  So, uh, how come you haven't made Bedazzled 2?"

EH: "Like that one did you?  It was a very fun movie to work on and Brendan Frasier was simply hilarious to work with."

Me: "Yeah, he's great. (Whatever).  So do you still have the skanky outfits you wore in that movie?"

EH: "Not likely!  They stayed with the props designers, I'm sure... plus, not like I could wear those anymore!"

Me: "What?  Um, yes you could.  Should.  Like, go get them. Right now."

EH: "I'm not sure that your idea is even possible, let alone something I would actually do."

Me: "Do you also enjoy telling small children there's no Santa? Because that's pretty much what you just did to me."

EH: "Are you guilt tripping a 45 year old woman into wearing skimpy clothes for your amusement?"

Me: "Uh... when you put it that way... Good point.  I need to find something more effective.  How about a bribe?"

EH: "And what exactly would you bribe me with?"

Me: ::looks around, checks pockets, scratches head:: "Well, I could uh.  Er.  Hold on." ::grabs cellphone from pocket, presses numbers:: "Hello? Dad?  Me.  I need to borrow a billion dollars or so.  What? You don't?  Shit.  Never mind."  ::hangs up:: "Anyway, scratch that.  How about a new topic?"

EH: "You're not quite normal, are you?"

Me: "Speaking of, didn't you date Hugh Grant?"

EH: "Yes, we dated for a few years during the '90s."

Me: "Seriously?"

EH: "Yes."

Me: "Why?"

EH: "Well, Hugh is a very charming and successful man.  He's quite-"

Me: "No, why?  How could you ever have a conversation with him? Have you heard that annoying stutter?  Seriously.   I lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu, no, I mean, I lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-ve you.  Right.  Righto.  Right.  Crickey. Mate. If I dated him I'd probably punch a kitten and then jump off a bridge."

EH: "We're not dating anymore, you know."

Me: "I know right?  Sweet.  Well, you're married, which sucks, but still.  At least it's not Hugh Grant."

EH: "Well, about that..."

Me: "Oh yeah... didn't you get busted banging a hockey player or something? (Oh shit.  Caleb! What'd you just say!)

EH: "I'm not going to be divulging details of my private life.  Do you have any other interview questions?"

Me: "I'm... yeah.  Shit.  Can I just kiss your shoulder or something? Once?"

EH: "I'm leaving. You are terrible at this.  You know that, right?"

Me: "How about the elbow? Elizabeth?  Elizabeth!  I love you I love you iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!!!!"  ::sigh:: "Well..."  ::unzips pants::


Caleb Shreves: known for his classy professionalism. 

Hapy nuw yeer! I rezolved too not spel so good.  Cee? 

Out.

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