I posted an April Fools and April Truths entry last week. It was sort of a quiz to see how well you know what types of jerks I encounter on a weekly basis. I had some interesting feedback from that column.
For instance, Hot Stuff, who turned out to be my friend Val, informed me that she got five out of six correct. Her only slip-up was the Primo's Thug story. She thought it was real. Again, I was disappointed I didn't get to pull my Beverly Hills Cop driving stunt. I only pray that a white-trashy dude gets so mad at me one day, allowing me to do that.
My friend Not Asian Guy said that the entry reminded him of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction. Even if you're a fan of Jerks of the Week, it can't possibly live up to the greatness of that show. Just take a look at this video to see how many glorious puns Jonathan Frakes fed us each week. I miss that show so much. No lie - I used to stay in on Friday nights just so I could watch it in the pre-DVR era. All the cool people used to do that.
Speaking of Frakes, you may or may not know that he was the first officer on Star Trek: The Next Generation. His captain, Jean-Luc Picard, played by Patrick Stuart (also Charles Xavier in the X-Men movies), is a 72-year-old guy who, according to reports, is dating a 30-year-old woman. This is exactly why Stuart is so freaking awesome. The only way this could get any better is if he calls her "Number One" as he's banging her. Can you imagine the possibilities? "Take off your shirt, Number One. Unzip my pants, Number One. Are you up for some anal tonight, Number One?" I'd pay for his sex tape if he did that.
At any rate, the girl I referred to as the "busty female who had her cleavage blatantly popping out of her button-down shirt" confronted me about the April Fools and April Truths entry. I saw her at a party on Saturday, and she said, "So, I read Jerks of the Week..."
I thought I was in trouble. I was prepared for her to yell at me or perhaps slap me. I braced myself, but our ensuing conversation surprised me.
Busty Female: That seriously made my day to read that!
Me: Please don't hit me, please don't hit... oh, really?
Busty Female: Yeah, it was so great! I loved to be referred to as the busty female!
Meanwhile, Awesome Girl Who Loves Football got all six stories correct, so according to my rating system, she stalks me. I jokingly told her that it was hot that she was my stalker, but I was actually being quite serious. It's always been a dream of mine to have a hot girl stalk me, and now it has finally come true. I hate to brag, but I am so incredibly lucky.
Awesome Girl Who Loves Football explained her reasoning for guessing correctly on all of them. She said that the Primo's Thug story was just way too dramatic to be believable. She also said that the Slow Truck Man situation is just something that would happen to me.
That's definitely true. Crazy crap like that happens to me all the time. Plus, she's seen my neighborhood, so she knows how terrible the construction has been. They've been working on the road outside my development, Walnut Grove, since October. They actually finally finished, which is great news because there won't be any more idiots ignoring the "Road Closed" sign and trying to find an alternative route in my development.
This, however, doesn't mean that my neighborhood is jerk-free. I've run into a few new jerks recently, and I'd love to rant about them.
1. Candy Thieves:
I have an update on the Candy Thieves from across the street. I wrote about these Russian a**holes two-and-a-half years ago. I put out a bucket of a ridiculous amount of candy on Halloween 2010 because I was working. A few hours later, it was all gone. Upon opening up my door, these Candy Thieves, who were having a party on their deck, looked at me and laughed.
I haven't associated with these people at all, and that's probably for the best. I was feeling restless one night around 3 a.m., so I went for a jog. I'm fat, so by "jog," I mean running for about half a minute and then walking for five. Hey, I'm a slob, so at least I'm moving. Don't criticize.
I passed by the Candy Thieves' house on my way home. I was in one of the walking portions of my jog, so I was able to observe everything carefully. There was one of those $19.95 rental trucks parked in the Candy Thieves' driveway. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but there was all of this stereo equipment sitting on their lawn. It was seriously a couple thousand dollars' worth of stuff. It was an incredibly shady situation.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by this. If these people were evil enough to steal candy from kids on Halloween, of course they were into seedier business like moving hot stereo equipment. It actually made me think - what did they do with the candy they stole from me? Did they eat it, or did they sell it on the black market? I can only imagine them standing on a corner in North Philly...
Candy Addict: Yo mans, you gots dem Kit Kat?
Candy Thieves: Yes, to please, I have Kit Kat, Snicker, Jolly Ranches and ozzer candy.
Candy Addict: Oh mans, I needs dem Kit Kat, how much for one Kit Kats?
Candy Thieves: Tventy-five cents, to please.
Candy Addict: Dem Kit Kat is a dolla in the store. How you gets dem so cheap?
Candy Thieves: Vhy you ask qvestion? You under-cozor cop or somesing?
Candy Addict: No mans... I need dem Kit Kat but I don't gots da 25 cent. Can I pay you back?
Candy Thieves: No, to please. Ve already give you sree Kit Kat ozzer time. You no pay back. If you no pay, ve gonna crush you!
If this stereo equipment setup wasn't odd enough, a bald guy smoking a cigarette spotted me as he was loading some of the merchandise into the truck. He gave me this extremely evil look, almost as if he was debating whether to kill me or not.
I'm not going to lie to you - I was pretty scared. I would have run home, but I was way too tired from the recent half minute of jogging.
2. War of the Grannies:
Most of the people in my neighborhood are Russians, Native Americans and Asians. They're almost all married couples in their mid-30s or early 40s. They all seemingly have kids, so that means that their parents take care of their children while they're at work. That's why you'll always see old grandmas walking around with their grandchildren on any weekday afternoon.
These grandmas seriously have no lives and are desperate for someone to talk to. I was walking to the mailbox one recent afternoon when this woman in her late 60s stopped me. She was a Russian lady wearing sunglasses and sporting a stylish blond afro. She was holding hands with her 3-year-old granddaughter, but this didn't stop her from striking up a conversation with me.
Blond Afro Lady: You alvays valk to mailblocks?
Me: Umm... yeah, unless it's really cold.
Blond Afro Lady: How much you valk?
Me: I don't really understand the question.
Blond Afro Lady: How many day you valk on veek to mailblocks?
Me: Oh, I guess four or five times per week.
Blond Afro Lady: Do you valk to ozzer place?
Me: Other place? What other place?
Blond Afro Lady: Valk, valk, valk to ozzer place in here.
Me: Oh, are you asking me if I walk around elsewhere in this neighborhood?
Blond Afro Lady: Yes, valk, valk.
Me: Uhh... yeah, if it's nice out, I like to walk around.
Blond Afro Lady: Iz good! Iz good you like valk!
Me: Oh. Thank you, I guess.
Blond Afro Lady: Valk! Valk, valk, go valk!
Me: OK, see ya later.
I think that deserves the nomination for most meaningless conversation of all time. Seriously, what was that point of that? Why did she want to know if I liked to walk, and why did she care if I walk frequently? I've thought deeply about it, and I have come up with three reasons why she talked to me about this:
1. She was horrified by how fat I was and thought I was in desperate need for some exercise.
2. She was horny, so she was hitting on me. OK, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit just thinking about banging her.
3. She was desperate for some intelligent conversation because all she does is walk around with her 3-year-old granddaughter all day, so her "discussion" with me was the highlight of her afternoon. That actually makes me quite sad.
There are numerous other Russian grannies who wander around aimlessly every afternoon. There's one crazy-looking woman sporting some sort of reddish-orange hair color that can't be found in any Crayola box. She wheels around the stroller in the middle of the street, which pisses me off because I have to swerve around her if I'm driving.
Another Russian granny is this old, scary woman nearing 80. She has this grayish-blond hair that's obviously dyed. What makes her frightening is that her eyes are completely different shapes. One is wide open, while the other is usually closed. I tried to say hi to her when I passed her on the sidewalk, but she didn't react. She didn't even look like she knew where she was.
One morning, I slid the curtains in my bedroom aside right after waking up. I looked out the window and saw the three grannies I mentioned standing in a circle. They were definitely yelling at each other. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but this just means that I can concoct a possible conversation...
Blond Afro Lady: Vhy you alvays valk, valk, valk in middle of street?
Crayola Hair Lady: I VALK IN MIDDLE OF STREET SO MAYBE I GET HIT BY CAR WEEEE!!!
Blond Afro Lady: And you, vhy you alvays no talk to me?
Senile Eye Lady: Who you? Who I? Vhat country iz zis?
Blond Afro Lady: Vhere fat guy I see earlier? I need ask vhy I no see him valk.
Crayola Hair Lady: I NO KNOW VHERE FAT GUY IS BUT MY GRANDSON BETTER ZAN YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!!
Blond Afro Lady: Better than granddaughter!? My granddaughter valk! You grandson no valk!
Senile Eye Lady: My grandson iz astronaut. He better zan all grandson!
Blond Afro Lady: You grandson only learn valk last mons! He no astronaut. You crazy vooman!
Crayola Hair Lady: MAYBE ALL OUR GRANDCHILDREN ASTRONAUT SO IZ GOOD TO VALK IN MIDDLE OF STREET WEEEE!!!
Senile Eye Lady: I no have grandchildren, stop talk to me about grandchildren!
Blond Afro Lady: You valk vis grandson, vhat you mean you no have grandchildren?
Crayola Hair Lady: WEEEE!!!
You know, I can suddenly understand why Blond Afro Lady was so desperate to talk to me about walking.
3. Red Pants Man:
I'm two-thirds through this entry, and I've come to realize that I need to walk to the "mailblocks" more often because I encounter the majority of the jerks in my neighborhood that way.
I was off to get my mail one recent afternoon when I saw two people walking toward me in the distance. One was a man who appeared to be wearing red pants. The other was a brunette chick who seemed hot from afar. I discovered how wrong I was about that as they got closer. The girl, who was smoking a cigarette, had all of these potholes on her face. It was disgusting. See, kids? That's why smoking is bad for you.
Meanwhile, the guy was an Asian dude sporting a Justin Bieber lesbian-style haircut. I nodded to him and asked, "How you doin'?" He didn't reply; instead, he looked at me like I was nuts. I almost wanted to say, "I'm not the crazy one; you're wearing the red pants, bub."
I was returning to my house with my mail when I saw these two do something strange. The girl stood at the door next to the Candy Thieves' lair. She took off her shoes and walked into the house. The Asian guy, meanwhile, hid behind the bush in their front yard. He seriously stooped behind the bush for a good five minutes. I pretended to text someone so I could observe this, and he just remained there until the girl left her house and put her shoes back on. They then walked back to the direction from which they came from.
OK, so I'm thinking this guy didn't want the girl's parents to spot him, perhaps because they think he's pondscum or something. That's fine, but why did he feel the need to hide behind the bush in their freaking front yard? Why not just wait around the corner where he'd be completely out of sight? Then again, who am I to question the actions of a guy boasting a lesbian haircut and red pants?
The people in the girl's house are weird, by the way. They constantly leave their garage door open, even in the middle of the night. If I'm walking or driving by, I can see that they have posters of little Asian girls plastered all of over their garage wall. The aforementioned pothole-faced girl who walked into this house was not Asian, so I have no idea what this is all about.
My best guess? The girl's parents have teamed up with the Candy Thieves to sell little Asian girls on the black market. Perhaps they fed these Asian girls with the candy they stole from me.