I don't think that a days goes by that I have been completely truthful to inner-Lauren. I wasn't always this way. I used to go weeks between fabrications. I was constantly reminding myself how stupid some comment was, or how ridiculous my hair looked when I cut it into an incredibly short do, dyed red and black stripes into it reminiscent of a sun burned zebra, and then sealed the deal by flipping it out over my ears.
I was so honest to myself that I would even call myself out for being too honest with myself, which just began a huge argument with inner me about the merits of truth telling vs lying, and almost always ended up with either inner me, or outer me saying something mean, and one of the mes crying.. We could never win!
I soon learned that you never argue with women, and lying is always the best tactic.
Soon whenever I asked myself if the toque that I wore so often that I'm surprised it didnt fuse with my scalp, looked good with a blue men's dress shirt, and my favorite shiny, red tear-away pants, I could convincingly tell myself that I was a teen sex machine, and inevitably, and against my better sense would believe me.
Soon whenever I asked myself if the toque that I wore so often that I'm surprised it didnt fuse with my scalp, looked good with a blue men's dress shirt, and my favorite shiny, red tear-away pants, I could convincingly tell myself that I was a teen sex machine, and inevitably, and against my better sense would believe me.
Due to the sudden boost in confidence, and overall happiness, I got from jacking off my ego at regular intervals - once every 3-5 minutes due to frequency and severity of retarded shit I did - I became a veritable maelstrom of inner self-masturbatory, self conflagration, that served mainly to distract myself from the fact that I was making a fucking ass out of myself 99.9% of the time.
In saying all this... I dont have a problem with authority, authority has a problem with me.
That is why, for reasons that I am yet to comprehend, I found my very sober self, and 4 moderately less sober friends, suddenly pulled over by 5 police vehicles (3 undercover, and 2 regular), then being told that we would soon be arrested, if we did not go home, go immediately home, and not dilly dally in any way shape or form.
Did I mention that the vehicular device that I happened to be operating at that particular moment, was an adult sized Big Wheels?
Yes, I said Big Wheels.
In saying all this... I dont have a problem with authority, authority has a problem with me.
That is why, for reasons that I am yet to comprehend, I found my very sober self, and 4 moderately less sober friends, suddenly pulled over by 5 police vehicles (3 undercover, and 2 regular), then being told that we would soon be arrested, if we did not go home, go immediately home, and not dilly dally in any way shape or form.
Did I mention that the vehicular device that I happened to be operating at that particular moment, was an adult sized Big Wheels?
Yes, I said Big Wheels.
This night began like most weekend nights: I was at a friend's party, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary was happening, so I decided to leave, and was accompanied by my friends Danae, JP and Shannon.
That night, due to a sudden lack of man pants, balls, or perhaps sanity, I just couldn't get into drinking, so was completely sober by the time we decided to pack it in.
The house that we were at was only about 20 blocks from the house that JP and I shared, so we decided to saunter our asses home.
We were walking up a deserted, long, straight road, when I noticed a very strange shape 5-10 blocks away. My first impression was that it was a bear, but I'm not a bearologist, thus am unable to tell the difference between a bear, a tree, or a race car, from a distance, and was soon busy pondering which species, or subspecies of Ursus Americanus this might be.
Now, I'm not always "sharp like beach ball", so while I gesticulated wildly, argued about the shape of the approaching silhouette, and attempted to smell the wind for clues, it never actually occurred to me that we should get the fuck out of there. (Or to just fucking listen for a second, because I would have been able to hear the glorious, unmistakable sound of the plastic wheels, as they drummed serendipitously against the pavement) and know for certain that I was a complete and utter moron.
Luckily for me, it turns out that not only was this NOT a 700lb, man eating, razor clawed black bear, but it was in fact a 130lb 5'6" dude named Tom, who happened to be riding the least threatening type of transportation: A grown-assed-man sized big wheels.
That night, due to a sudden lack of man pants, balls, or perhaps sanity, I just couldn't get into drinking, so was completely sober by the time we decided to pack it in.
The house that we were at was only about 20 blocks from the house that JP and I shared, so we decided to saunter our asses home.
We were walking up a deserted, long, straight road, when I noticed a very strange shape 5-10 blocks away. My first impression was that it was a bear, but I'm not a bearologist, thus am unable to tell the difference between a bear, a tree, or a race car, from a distance, and was soon busy pondering which species, or subspecies of Ursus Americanus this might be.
Now, I'm not always "sharp like beach ball", so while I gesticulated wildly, argued about the shape of the approaching silhouette, and attempted to smell the wind for clues, it never actually occurred to me that we should get the fuck out of there. (Or to just fucking listen for a second, because I would have been able to hear the glorious, unmistakable sound of the plastic wheels, as they drummed serendipitously against the pavement) and know for certain that I was a complete and utter moron.
Luckily for me, it turns out that not only was this NOT a 700lb, man eating, razor clawed black bear, but it was in fact a 130lb 5'6" dude named Tom, who happened to be riding the least threatening type of transportation: A grown-assed-man sized big wheels.
Now, I must admit that there are very few things more glorious than suddenly discovering that your favorite toy as a child, has been remade, to fit you as an adult, like a fucking glove.
Not only that, but this gorgeous piece of history is now equipped with plastic wheels on the back that are the hardest, slickest plastic ever, so that as soon as you turn even a single degree, you are uncontrollably drifting, and dependent on if you knew this was going to happen or not, shitting your pants in a combination of fear and ecstacy.
These wheels, although quite possibly the most thrilling invention since the invention of bouncy castles, also make it so that you can never, ever use your big wheels for any kind of criminal activities, because, just like the original, it is louder than a god damned alcohol fueled dragster, thus in combination with your screams of nostalgic glee, you can be heard from approximately 129.4 kms away.
This may be why we were suddenly surrounded by more cops than if we were robbing a bank, because we decided that we would use the .5% inclined slopey bit of the road, to really get the hang of this incredible piece of equipment, 3, or 5, or 40 times.. but who was really counting..
Obviously someone who lived in the area, must have been one of those "yell from behind their curtains while peaking one eye out, and shaking his fist at those damned kids" types, because it wasn't even a full block away that we found ourselves surrounded, and worried about if we were going to have to spread 'em for a rubber gloved officer of the law.
The response that our big wheels debacle received was astronomical. I can only assume that someone called in for "shots fired" because otherwise... let's be serious... sending out 5 police vehicles for a call of "young adults, riding a god damned big wheels with reckless abandon" just does not qualify on the "how many fucks can the police possibly give" scale.
Out of smoke, they appeared, masters of surprise, swooping out of the shadows, like Darkwing Duck in one of his finer moments.
Tom is suddenly convinced that we are about to be incarcerated for being hard as fuck.
There isnt a thing that I can say to this man to ensure him that being arrested for wheeling like a mother fucker, isnt really a charge that will stand up in court.
While I am trying to explain this to Tom, I notice a flash over my shoulder...
There is still nothing that I have ever found quite as satisfying as watching a police officer, take a selfie, whilst trying to keep a stern "you done fucked up" face going.
Constable Selfie was very literally giggling harder than I was at the entire situation, and took it upon himself to snap a quick profile pic for the ladies, with the Big Wheels, and a very agitated Tom, in the background.
Admittedly, buddy Selfie had never been called out to anything so ludicrous in his life.
Not only that, but this gorgeous piece of history is now equipped with plastic wheels on the back that are the hardest, slickest plastic ever, so that as soon as you turn even a single degree, you are uncontrollably drifting, and dependent on if you knew this was going to happen or not, shitting your pants in a combination of fear and ecstacy.
These wheels, although quite possibly the most thrilling invention since the invention of bouncy castles, also make it so that you can never, ever use your big wheels for any kind of criminal activities, because, just like the original, it is louder than a god damned alcohol fueled dragster, thus in combination with your screams of nostalgic glee, you can be heard from approximately 129.4 kms away.
This may be why we were suddenly surrounded by more cops than if we were robbing a bank, because we decided that we would use the .5% inclined slopey bit of the road, to really get the hang of this incredible piece of equipment, 3, or 5, or 40 times.. but who was really counting..
Obviously someone who lived in the area, must have been one of those "yell from behind their curtains while peaking one eye out, and shaking his fist at those damned kids" types, because it wasn't even a full block away that we found ourselves surrounded, and worried about if we were going to have to spread 'em for a rubber gloved officer of the law.
The response that our big wheels debacle received was astronomical. I can only assume that someone called in for "shots fired" because otherwise... let's be serious... sending out 5 police vehicles for a call of "young adults, riding a god damned big wheels with reckless abandon" just does not qualify on the "how many fucks can the police possibly give" scale.
Out of smoke, they appeared, masters of surprise, swooping out of the shadows, like Darkwing Duck in one of his finer moments.
Tom is suddenly convinced that we are about to be incarcerated for being hard as fuck.
There isnt a thing that I can say to this man to ensure him that being arrested for wheeling like a mother fucker, isnt really a charge that will stand up in court.
While I am trying to explain this to Tom, I notice a flash over my shoulder...
There is still nothing that I have ever found quite as satisfying as watching a police officer, take a selfie, whilst trying to keep a stern "you done fucked up" face going.
Constable Selfie was very literally giggling harder than I was at the entire situation, and took it upon himself to snap a quick profile pic for the ladies, with the Big Wheels, and a very agitated Tom, in the background.
Admittedly, buddy Selfie had never been called out to anything so ludicrous in his life.
