Some friends just stick. Sometimes those friends actually live outside of the computer screen. “Blasphemy!”. I can hear you thinking it already, but it is true. This post is testament to that. When I first met Z, I was convinced that he was going to set our classroom on fire. Marketing 101. College. His head phones and blaring Tech N9ne were essential to his wardrobe and my uneasiness. Little did I know, he wasn’t actually a murderer but one of my future best friends.
Some friendships are cosmic. He paid me in beer to say that. Part of the deal was also for me to give him some of my spotlight. So without further ado, meet my friend “Z”…
Well hello there! Becky (editor’s note: fuck you) has asked me to step in and fill in some space due to her recent episode of writer’s block. I offered her a couple hits of acid and the leprechauns that do my typing for me, but she refused. I’m not sure why she denied my offer though. Those four creepy little dudes have kept me employed the last three years and even earned me a 2.31 GPA throughout college. Fancy, I know.
Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Z. Well at least that’s what she named me on here a few times anyway. I’ve been called worse. I am originally from Smackover, Arkansas. Dead serious. Google it. It sucks, I know. But before my recent relocation to the great shit hole of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the two of us shared roughly 572,890 pitchers of beer together.
I shared with her my knowledge of billiards and was even the third wheel through the entirety of a yearish long relationship of hers. If it wasn’t for her, I would probably be sober. Yes, my life would suck if not for this lovely blonde! (editor’s note again: redhead now dumbass).
Up until recently, I didn’t even know her blog existed. For some reason I had to stalk her on Facebook just to learn this hidden writing talent of hers. But now I understand why we have always texted and only ever spoken on the phone once in our multi-year relationship. And that was more awkward than some random non-blogger dude making an appearance on some chick’s highly popular blog.
When she first asked me to write a guest post, I will admit I giggled with a slight evilness. I thought, “How witty can I be?” and “Oh the people I can piss off with my political views!”. Then I realized she would just delete my post and ban me from the internet, which would cause a riot with the leprechauns. Not worth the risk.
So instead, I must confess to the masses how blessed each of you are to sit right where your rear is currently placed and enjoy reading the very thoughts and ideas that I have been graced with throughout my friendship with Miss Long Johns herself since some time in 2009. I check for new posts quite frequently now, due to the lack of our shared time together. It’s all I can get. She won’t come visit me anymore. Thanks to y’all.
I think I have babbled enough, and her head is probably slightly swollen after reading these kind words. It’s been a pleasure occupying roughly 3-27 minutes of your time. Who knows, maybe one day she will allow me to post something witty and political. Maybe not political but at least witty.
P.S. Her cats are evil. Between Ace, Jack, and my cat allergy, I am surprised I never woke up cross-eyed after drunkenly passing out on her couch all of those nights. Then again, it could have been those three-month old leftovers I always took off of her refrigerator’s hands. Who knows…
Stay tuned tomorrow for the recap of the LaLaBec New Year’s Eve bash. Because you know you don’t remember. Please leave a nice comment for Z while you wait. My writer’s block thanks him and you.
- Lee Corso is a leprechaun (sbnation.com)
- Networking : Friends (bbroseproductions.wordpress.com)
- Single People Are Not the Enemy (singlewhitechristian.wordpress.com)
Posted on January 8, 2013, in Humor, Silly and tagged 25tofly, baton rouge, Becca Cord, Beer, blog, cat allergy, cats, Friends, friendship, Funny, guest blogging, humor blog, JZ, Leprechaun, life, Louisiana, New Year's Eve, theChive, writers block. Bookmark the permalink. 125 Comments.