It actually happened as I was tooling around Palm Springs in the new Z8,
looking for some tacitos on Taquitz when two thirteen year old girls with
surgically enhanced nipples started in with the usual ... could I give
them a ride, get them any blow, make crack like Robert Downey, Jr., make
movies like Rob Lowe, buy them new shoes, get them a six pack... and to
each I said "no" whether or not that was the answer and they got more and
more annoyed..., accused me of being a Hollywood Has Been... got out of
the car at the next light and (ouch) said they'd catch me on the next VH-1
Whatever Happened to....
As I sped away, leaving 16 foot tire tracks and wondering if Hector the
Dealer would deliver to the Merv Griffin Resort if I could find it, I
flicked the butt of one of my patented heroin soaked cigarettes at them as
she screamed: "He can't even review a video game! Yeah -- I read SIN and THE WAGES OF SIN you old fart! (It took
a long time to shift what with all that burning rubber and heavy metal
thunder -- what can I say?)
Can't review a video game! Why that little wench! I should have sold you
two for ten bucks at a Cathedral City Crack House -- and would have too,
if the Z8 had room for my Foders.
So off I go to like ten video stores where I even find someplace that
sells software for Mac, and then to five more until I find some descent
games (or so I think that have selections which go beyond cheap flight
simulators and golf games and the all important Edutainment section.
I then race back to Hollywood, the floor of my car littered with Red
Shift/Planetary Missions which supposedly allows one to fly around in
his own space ship, which is something that seems right up this guy's
alley; Dracula II, a 2 CD set (sort of like a Dead Concert of
games), Neo Hunter which had better let me kill a bunch of innocent
people -- pr at least allow me to chose between being a good guy and a bad
guy and Secrets of the Pyramids which had better arm me with
something more than my wits.
See, in case you haven't guessed, I'm a pretty blood and guts and blow
them to fucking hell and inspect the wreckage type of fan -- oh I liked
those Quest series when I was younger, but then they stopped
"understanding" when you decided to give your trusted aides a little
bloodbath (like I can't open a stinking door by my self?
I really haven't had the chance to play any of these games yet, and have
no desire to stay up until 5 doing so, but spilled out here on the floor I
see that perhaps all I'll like is Neo Hunter, and that's only if it
doesn't require more than three pages of directions.
So the moral is... next time you're driving on Taquitz and two pubescent
girls want to go to a motel and take Exstasy until they're out of
Seratonin, just tell them your name is Norm Watkins, pay cash for the room
and leave around three when their getting suicidal in the bathroom (oh,
and be sure to call 911 as you split, mentioning Norm's name as frequently
OH, AND NO MATTER WHAT CALISSA FLOCKHART SAYS,MELON FLAVORED FRUIT WATER
SUCKS --LOOK NO FURTHER THAN THAT SHELF AT RALPH'S FOR THE REASON FOR
BOB D'S RELAPSE.......