The Standard Birthday Party

First I must tell you that as of late I REALLY haven't felt like posting. Many events and stories have knocked at my door and begged to be exploited, but when the pen is too heavy and the paper is too large... Or however that saying goes. (I suppose since I just made up that saying it goes just like that.) Anyway, I'm dusting off the keys and advancing cyberspace once again.

My birthday happened this month. Actually, the rememberance of my birthday. Well, no one that celebrated with me remembers the specific miracle... The recognition and gift giving happened this month. And it was a story worth being told. Not my birth, (although I like to think that the ladies thank their lucky stars for that.) but my birthday this year.

THAT NIGHT: My boys got me all set up in a cool posh hotel room at the Standard in downtown. We had a room with cool orange couches, a hottub sort of thing, a giant bathroom/shower combo, and this enormous black foam foot that I'm sure lots of fun nasty things have happened on (so I tried not to touch it, although I did a couple of times... "Hey, it's a huge black foam foot!" touch, touch, squeeze.).

After beers and room service it was up to the dance floor. The dancing took place on the rooftop and was heavily guarded by a bunch of kids who were trained at some underground Nazi camp. Once we were beaten by the guards we were free to party. The dance floor was really cool except there wasn't anyone on it. So, I soaked up the incredible view and waited for the rest of my friends to arrive... 2 hours after they were supposed to be there, everyone was accounted for. So, I headed downstairs to greet my guests. On my way into the elevator a guard grabbed my wrist and cut off my rooftop access wristband.
"Why did you do that?" I inquired.
"No one can leave and come back after 11pm." said the Nazi.
"I have a room here." I explained.
"You'd have a different band if you had a room here." said the Nazi.
"No, there's been a mistake. I have a room." said me.
"..." shrugged the Nazi.
The elevator doors close. At the bottom floor I find my friends and hug.
Drinks are bought and gifts are opened. I then head to the front desk to purchase more wristbands for myself and my guests.
"Hey. How's it going? Hey, my wristband was cut off by one of your cool bouncers." I slurred.
"I'm sorry. Here's a wristband that will allow you to go where you want." said the pretty lady.
"Thanks. Here's money (Lots) to buy all of my friends wristbands too." I think I said.
"Sorry, we're at capacity. No more people can go up on the roof." the pretty lady said.
"But there's lots of room and I'll buy you access too!" I wish I hadn't said.
"There's no way you're getting more wristbands." The once pretty lady said.

Party in my room! I sneaked all of my people into my room. Room service arrives. We chat, we drink, we all watch me get into the hottub with shorts and a tie on. Nazis showed up and told us to keep it down or there would be hell to pay. Then paparazzi showed up and snapped off some cool pics. They were escorted out and then I think I realized there weren't anymore people in my room accept my two brothers. So, I got out of the tub and went to bed. While one friend polished off all of the champagne and wandered the halls, the other soaked in the tub in his underwear.

NEXT MORNING: Room service finally arrived with the coffee, croissants and towels. We packed up and headed to the elevator where we met up with the head Nazi guard, Paul Myers. One awkward elevator ride to the bottom floor and we have the names of the people we're going to complain about. After having our complaint dismissed and thrown into the trash we left and saw Batman (great film).
Some phone calls were made before and after the movie. The owner of the Standard was informed of the Neo-Nazi problem, more names were taken, and justice was served.

Cool gig, huh? Bet you wish you were there. Maybe next year. Except you don't know when my birthday is and you don't know where it's going to be. Fools!

Announcement

The SIMH Staff would like to apologize for the recent delays in updated posts. Without going into great detail we will tell you that after a long court battle the rights to the "Twenty-Six Part Series" had to be sold. This means there will be no more series under that title, however, we encourage you to continue to stop by and check this blog for other fun filled posts.

Thank you for your support.

SIMH Staff

Fourth Part Of A Twenty-Six Part Series

Part Four:

D


"D" stands for Dastard, which means "A sneaky, cowardly evildoer."
However, it sounds like, ...it sounds like...
(Unbelievable. I'm a retard. I can't think of one word that this thing sounds like. Son of a... Guess I'll finish this sandwich and think about it for a bit. Man, I wish I had some mustard. ...This is ridiculous. Think of a word you rat $astard! Forget it! Now, I'm just getting flusterd.)
Sorry, I don't know what it sounds like, guys.


*This series also comes in lower case for those who's computers do not support upper case.

Third Part Of A Twenty-Six Part Series

Part Three:

C


"C" stands for Clypeus, which means "A shieldlike plate on the front of the head of an insect."
However, it sounds like Clippenis, which is immoral with the exception of Jewish religious practices.

As a special note I'll also add that Clypeus pronounced backwards is Soupyls, which sounds like an abbr. of Marsupials, which means "Any of various nonplacental mammals of the order Marsupialia, including kangaroos, opossums, bandicoots, and wombats, found principally in Australia and the Americas." And that's a fun definition because you get to say "bandicoots and wombats."


*This series also comes in lower case for those who's computers do not support upper case.

Second Part Of A Twenty-Six Part Series

Part Two:

B


"B" stands for Biathlon, which means "A winter sports event combining cross-country skiing and rifle marksmanship."
However, it sounds like Bi-athlon, which I think means "An everyday event engaging bisexual athletes in various sexually perverse activities with one another for pleasure."


*This series also comes in lower case for those who's computers do not support upper case.

First Part Of A Twenty-Six Part Series

PART ONE:

A


"A" stands for Apparatus, which means "An appliance or device for a particular purpose."
However, it sounds like Up her atus... The meaning of which, I have no idea.


*This series also comes in lower case for those who's computers do not support upper case.

If Insomnia was a country...

I think it would be an entire country dedicated to Las Vegas.

Anyway, the thought just crossed my mind that I might be the only person on the West coast who's still awake with no reason to be. But that's ridiculous. Work starts in 6 hrs. Conan O'Brian is interviewing the Queen of Latifa ("Latifa" is a small area in the southern tip of Latin America. Latifa is spanish for "The Tiffy". A "Tiffy" is an extended moment in time... A split second slowed down to an indefinite point of experiential extention.) Pretty deep stuff, and that makes her pretty important - being the queen and all. She holds her courts in a beauty shop.

Welp, it's officially 4am. I have no reason to go to sleep other than it's a habit. I have no reason to go to work in a few hours other than it sustains my addiction to hope. I have no reason to keep writing other than

The Aftermathematics of Interest

I was trying to think of the most oppressive word in the english language today and the word I came up with was - Debt. What a bad mother(bleepin) mother(bleeper)...

Then I got to thinkin' 'bout how Debt is spelled... What's the deal? Who came up with that spelling? Probably some guy that owed some king or mayor or someone a ton of money plus a new Word. And when the oppressed dude finally paid up, he probably used the word "Det", but since it took him so long to pay and to come up with a new word, he probably owed some interest on top. So, he threw in the extra letter "B" just to make the king guy happy. ...Probably.

And then I got to realizing that the word Owe has the same issues as Debt does. And they mean the SAME thing! So, whoever owed this mayor guy money and words owed A LOT - Two words AND money! My goodness, what a terrible couple of words... And story behind them.

...

...

(and that's what I think about that.)