What it do, gentle readers? It’s just little old me, Marisa, again. I have to say, that I have grown extremely fond of our little Friday internet communions. I feel we’ve become a part of each other’s lives now. I look forward to sharing my wisdom and savvy with you. I’m as integral a part of your weekend ritual as, say, stopping by Byron’s Liquor Warehouse or discreetly heading to Walgreen’s for your weekly Morning After Pill.
Without further ado, gentle readers, here is this week’s edition of Friday Night in the Big Town!
If you’re anything like me, gentle readers, which I’ve come to believe that you are, then you can’t stand the whole Twilight saga. Now, if you could politely eschew judgment for a moment, let me just say that I can hate this saga because I’ve read the whole thing. Yes, that’s right. I sacrificed many hours of my free time, my vision, and whatever bits and pieces of my self-respect remained intact after high school, to read thousands of pages of teen angst, all because I wanted to know what the appeal of it all was. I still don’t know.
Because of this arduous research I have done, I have come to the conclusion that Stephenie Meyer isn’t actually a Mormon housewife who happened to pen a love story about the sparkly undead. Instead, I know that she is an instrument being used by the government in order to control the minds of women between the ages of 14 and 45. Seriously. Think about it. Why else would the whole Team Edward/Team Jacob drama exist unless the U.S. government wanted to instill puritanical restrictions on dating relations or brainwash a whole generation of women into believing that they cannot, in fact, be whole human beings without a monstrously strong man to protect, provide, and guide them morally?
So, why would I share this event with you, gentle reader? Well, I know that you’re probably either looking for a life partner or you want to start a cult. In the case of the former, there will be loads of women at Borders who are all looking for their soul mate. If you want a Team Jacob chick, just show up and talk about your Native American heritage. You’re from Oklahoma. You must be descended from that Cherokee princess like we all are. If you prefer a Team Edward lady, show up with messy hair and as pale as you possibly can be. Speak bluntly, yet properly. And, if you show up after hitting the strip club, you may have enough residual boob glitter on your face to make them think you sparkle.
Or you could start a cult. Those women are all about following. And they’re looking for an Edward to lead them.
Sorry ladies. There isn’t much here for you to do unless you’re really a fan. In which case, I can’t judge you because a lot of my friends are fans, and I’ve read the books myself. Though, maybe if you’re over the age of 18 you shouldn’t admit it out loud. I think the only way that I could officially become a fan of the whole Twilight franchise would be if the story changed completely. And, if I could go to Hot Topic and buy a t-shirt that either said “Team Realistic Expectations” or “Team Premarital Sex.” Those are my conditions.
I’m pretty sure that the only careers that I am qualified for are time traveler, getaway driver, and ghost hunter. Fortunately for me, I have had the pleasure of ghost hunting on one occasion with a professional team.
I don’t know if I believe in ghosts, and you totally don’t have to if you go on this tour. The professional investigator team and the caretakers of the fort will believe enough for you and themselves. A few years ago I took this tour, and I will tell you now, I didn’t see a ghost. I didn’t hear any strange or unexplained sounds. The pictures I took didn’t have any orbs in them. There were no sudden temperature drops to indicate a paranormal presence. Nobody got possessed. But I did hear about a million interesting stories about the ghost of a drunken general, of a Native American woman who sits in the trees of the cemetery and gives hugs to mourners and about the headless corpse of Otto.
Who is Otto? Well, he was a German prisoner of war buried at Fort Reno. The story is that at some point during the 1970’s, some crazy wild kids stole his skull from his grave. Apparently, that makes ghosts angry. The legend goes that if you walk up to his grave and kiss it, he will rise up and grab you. So, we got to see his grave at the end of the tour. And, if we kissed his headstone, we got a free pin that says “I survived the Ghosts of Fort Reno Tour.” Needless to say, I have this pin. (I apologize to anyone who I used to date, but this was the best kiss I’ve ever had. Why? Because I didn’t get a pin for kissing you dead beats”¦HI-OH!)
This tour is kind of cool in a super nerdy way. You have to spend the better part of your Saturday way the hell out in the middle of nowhere and you probably won’t see a ghost. But you do get to meet some professional ghost hunters. And if maybe you do hallucinogens (TLO doesn’t condone drug usage, but I, personally, might) before you start the tour, I bet you’ll see more than just the feral cats and skunks that came out of nowhere during my tour.
Also, fair warning–the professional ghost hunters won’t think all the references you make to Poltergeist are funny, no matter how many times you say “this house is clear” in the funny old lady voice.
So, I’ve never been to the roller derby. I know, lame, right? When Oklahoma City got a roller derby league, my heart leapt with joy. It was just another little way that the city was becoming cool, and like a real city. I like when cool things come to Oklahoma City. It gives me hope that all my friends won’t move away to Austin.
As previously stated, I’ve never been to the roller derby. Or, is it “a” roller derby? The proper article adjective escapes me. Regardless, I’m enamored with the idea of the roller derby. I love the names the roller girls come up with and I love the outfits they wear. I would totally be a roller girl if I knew how to skate and if my greatest fear in life weren’t getting my teeth knocked out. I feel like people should support the roller derby. I think I eventually will, once I get over my initial jealousy of the awesomeness that is a roller girl.
And, if for nothing else, this event is to benefit the St. Baldrick’s Foundation, an organization devoted to funding children’s cancer research and helping the families of these children. So, not only are you watching skaters inflict pain on other skaters, you’re doing so for a good cause.
There you have it, gentle readers. I have given you ample activities for this weekend, though, in my heart of hearts, I know that you are probably just going to sit in your garage. You’ll probably drink a case of Natty Light and drunk text your ex. You will regret it the next day when he/she calls you to see if you want to hang out later. And then you will say to yourself that you should have listened to me.
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