Well, here we are readers, at the end of November. November is Latin for “holiday overload.” Maybe. I didn’t take Latin because it’s a dead language, and the notion of speaking to those that have passed terrifies me. Anyway, December is upon us, and I never got tickets for the Mountain Goats show on Monday even though Tony totally told me to do it back in October and that’s only adding to my seasonal affective disorder and Christmas debt induced depression. I’m such a downer, but that’s why they keep me on staff here at The Lost Ogle. I kill the buzz, and ensure that you don’t have too much fun each weekend.
Anyway, here’s your Friday Night in the Big Town!
I refuse to believe that my life experience is unique in anyway, so I assume you readers know what I’m talking about when I ask if you remember singing along to “Second Stage Turbine Blade” in the back of your friend, Beth’s Chevy Lumina while you cruised Edmond and went to go see Hopes the Carrot play at Hafer Park? No? Really? Well, perhaps that was hyper-specific. But I assure you, back in 2002, that the was the thing all the cool kids in Edmond were doing, and by cool kids, I mean the girls who wore Chuck Taylors and hoodies all the time and obsessed about boys in bands.
Anyway, If an integral part of your adolescence involved shouting lyrics like “Jesse! Just come look at what your brother did/Here he did away with me” and never really knowing what the songs were actually about, then I’m sure you’ll be at the Diamond tonight. To this day, even though I don’t have the sort of energy needed to sing along to a song anymore, occasionally I’ll yell out Coheed Lyrics, if only because they’re awfully accusatory and great when you’re drunk. Case in point: “Cannibalistic unfit family ties!”
What’s up, readers? I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving full of food and family and most likely Pepto-Bismol. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that really requires stamina and intestinal fortitude, and turning a blind eye when your family drunkenly asks your date inappropriate questions about their life. If you’re lucky, you have today off and can recover from the festivities. And, you’re in luck! I’ve compiled a list of things for you to do on this lazy post-Thanksgiving Friday!
Here’s your Friday Night in the Big Town!
Eat pie for breakfast
Breakfast is generally my least favorite meal of the day. I like a good brunch that involves home fries and mimosas, but the average breakfast just can’t hold a candle to that kind of tastiness. But today, readers, breakfast is awesome! If you’ve never had pie for breakfast, then your life is a meaningless void where your jeans always fit. (Bitch ass skinny bitches…) So grab that pecan pie out of the fridge and throw it in a cereal bowl lest your parents question your breakfast choice and remind you how large you actually are. Bonus points awarded if you eat a pumpkin pie, because that’s like a vegetable and that means it’s healthy.
What’s up, readers? Are you bummed about Hostess declaring bankruptcy? Don’t be. Just remember that awful film that the Twinkie cream leaves on the roof of your mouth, then think about how your saliva can’t break it down. Then think about how long that is sitting in your stomach while your enzymes try to break it down but can’t. What is that stuff made of? No one really knows. Just know that while Twinkies may not survive a bankruptcy, at least that crap is still in the lining of your intestine. Are you thoroughly grossed out now? Good.
Here’s your Friday Night in the Big Town.
Nice, bloggers. Real frickin’ nice. What the hell is wrong with you? Did you honestly think that we at the Lost Ogle wouldn’t find out that you were all gonna hang out without us? This is just like that time in the fifth grade when I didn’t get invited to Lauren’s slumber party and I cried while watching TGIF and eating pizza with my mom. Well, guess what, Oklahoma bloggers? I learned how to do my hair and I don’t wear clothes from Sears anymore! I’m one of the cool kids now! How dare you not invite me and my TLO colleagues to your little party!
But whatever. I don’t even care. I’m serious. Go have fun in Edmond on Friday night, like that’s even possible. Enjoy your Passionfruit and Pinkitzel. Just know that we at The Lost Ogle will be enjoying big kid treats and making fun of you behind your backs. So have fun with your door prizes. I hope your page views go down. Jerks.
Well, readers. Here we are. It’s November, the leaves are falling off the trees, and not a one of you has offered to come rake my yard. I slave on this blog for you, and you don’t even offer to help me out once in a while. I guess I should expect it though. I’ve been pouring my soul out for you for two and a half years, and when I meet some of you, you don’t even believe that I am the Gentle one. Whatever. Anyway, here’s some stuff to do this weekend. Fair warning, the third one is a religious thing and I may say some things to offend. So, if you are unaware of how ignorant people are of Islam, maybe don’t read that one. I’m not in the mood for a ton of comments about how I’m burning in hell. Trust me, I know I’m burning in Hell. We have a Lost Ogle suite reserved and we’re all going to be roommates.
Anyway, here’s your Friday Night in the Big Town.
Full disclosure, here, readers. Some of the last few things acquired for my wardrobe were flannel shirts and a pair of Doc Marten’s. I love that fashion is cyclical, and also that my old pair of Doc Marten’s from the sixth grade still fit so I’m like some kind of rich kid with two pairs now. If the Marisa who constantly listened to a Coolio cassette tape could only see me now, I think she would be proud.
Do you like the 90’s? When you say the name of this event did you automatically start singing this song from Portlandia? Do you like dressing in 90’s gear, trivia, art shows, photo booths, live music, food trucks, open houses, and the almost guaranteed possibility that you will get so soused at Saint’s that you’ll have to do a walk of shame the next day wearing 90’s garb? Then please, get yourself to the Plaza District.
Ahhhh, do you feel that, readers? That’s the almost orgasmic sensation of the beginning of another Thunder season. I just love it when those fellas throw around the old leather pumpkin, as Liz Lemon would say. It’s finally time to sit in sports bars until midnight on a weeknight and drink while my boyfriend watches the game, and I tweet inane things about how Kendrick Perkins gives the best hugs (I will not let this drop). And as I’m sure you know, there are a couple of games this weekend, but in case you don’t care much for the old leather pumpkin, I’ve made a list of activities that can all be done while drinking beer.
Here’s your Friday Night in the Big Town!
Usually when I get physical, you can really hear my body talk. Basically every joint pops, I groan, and there’s a delightful wheeze coming from my lung region like the chorus of a protest song, saying there will be no peace until I get my chubby haunches back on that sofa and watch reruns of 30 Rock on Netflix. But maybe I just feel old and out of shape because I work out at the OU gym with a bunch of skinny 19-year olds who wear makeup and never break a freakin’ sweat.
If you’re an ONJ fan, and you’re not tired of everyone lately singing about Sandy as if she were a character in a musical and not a hurricane that killed a bunch of people, get yourself on down to Thackerville, the only city in Oklahoma that makes you feel like you have a lisp when you say it. I’m really running out of ONJ references, and I’m really not clever enough to work “Xanadu” into this paragraph. Also, I’m pretty sure this isn’t something the majority of our readership would enjoy.
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