So last night I'm bowling--yes, bowling, on a bowling team, in a league. One of my teammates is a burly guy with a flattop and a forthright way of speaking. He's making a career out of harassing Donnie, a shy, skinny, scraggly-bearded guy on the opposing team.
It's all I can do not to ask him to say, "Shut the f--- up, Donnie." But I don't, because it would hurt Donnie's feelings. Instead I ask him if he's ever seen The Big Lebowski.
He looks at me like I'm an alien for a minute and then asks, "Would I like it?"
"No," I reply. "No, I don't think so."
We're getting shirts. I want "The Dude" embroidered on mine, but I don't have the guts to ask. Oh well.
5 comments:
So wait--both guys are named Donnie? That is meta.
No ... the guy on my team, the John Goodman surrogate, is Russell. I left his name out because it wasn't Walter. See here for more details:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMupsCPH3M8
(at 3:10)
Zeitgeist! Just yesterday, we were talking about Lebowski. Please, please, *please* get a shirt with "Dude" embroidered on it. If you can't do that, I beg you to consider a Jesus jumpsuit. The hairnet isn't quite *you*, but it would certainly make an impression.
Incidentally, while some people do, I suppose, kiss their balls a la Jesus, some of us are just blowing into the thumbholes ... the moisture giving a better grip.
That may be the most content-dependent sentence I've ever written.
I'm positively damp, dude, though I've rarely heard it called a "thumbhole" before. Oh, wait, content-dependent..., never mind.
You really should get a Jesus suit, cuz, you know, nobody f**ks with the Jesus.
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