By Sean Patrick
As the second most romantic holiday of the year approaches (the first being flag day), men around the country are struggling to come up with the perfect Valentine’s Day gift. Although I can’t help you with what to get that special someone, I can definitely tell you what not to get that special someone.
Any sort of 9/11 memorabilia. Even though “she’ll never forget,” Valentine’s day is not the day to remember.
Glamour shots. Not only does this imply that you think she needs a professional makeover, but I don’t think glamour shots has updated their wardrobe since the mid eighties. So all you’re going to get out of this is a pissed off girlfriend and a picture of her in an American flag jean jacket.
Anything found at Spencer gifts. Even their most romantic item, a black light poster of the land of Mordor, is not in the least bit romantic… unless you’re dating a hobbit… in which case you should stop referring to your short girlfriend as a hobbit. She’s probably starting to get really pissed about it.
An all expense paid trip to Reno. You’re basically begging her to get crabs.
The Direct TV exclusive NFL Sunday Ticket package. She’s just getting over the fact that, because Justin Fargas was on your fantasy team, you made her watch the entire Monday Night Football game between the Raiders and the Dolphins. Don’t derive that painful memory on this special holiday.
Granny panties. As much as it made you and your friends laugh when you bought them at TJ Maxx, she won’t find the humor in it.
Commemorative presidential plates. Even though she voted for Obama, she will have no idea what she is supposed to do with a plate with his face on it. (rs)
Anything that involves the word “fart.” This includes fart machines, fart powder, and fart candy. This reiterates my point that you shouldn’t buy her anything from Spencer Gifts.
An act of love that involves causing yourself physical harm. In the end, it’s not worth it. Ask Van Gogh. Loudly.
A signed legal document stating that you promise to never cheat on her again, with the word again written in tiny font.
Anything she needs. Even though she has talked for months about needing a phillips head screwdriver or a new toilet brush, Valentine’s Day is not the time to give them to her. Those are gifts you should get her on a random Tuesday in June.
A novelty t-shirt. Again, as funny as you and your buddies thought the “Honk if You’re Horny” t-shirt was, she won’t. In fact, as a rule of thumb, don’t take any of your single friends Valentine’s Day shopping with you. They just want to destroy your relationship so you can play more Halo.
By Sean Patrick
Before reading this, be forewarned that this is my dweebiest blog to date
The Main Focus is a Video Game
I use the term “gamer”
I use the term “game wizard”
There is a Star Wars Episode III reference
I admit to almost seeing a Disney movie by myself
Please enjoy. And don’t judge.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!
With this sabbatical I made various goals for myself. Some goals were pretty lofty (win the lottery twice) and some not so lofty (wake up at least once a week before the street lights come on). In between those two extremes was a goal I’ve had since I was ten:
Beat Road Rash 2
I loved this video game when I was younger. To sum it up in a few words, it’s a motorcycle racing game for Sega Genesis where you fight other players for five levels, each level having five separate races you must win to advance.
As passionate as I was about this game when I was a kid, I could never get past the third level. As time went on my interest in the game diminished. My family eventually got rid of our Genesis when I was in high school, and I was never able to conquer this beast.
For years it was always at the back of my mind that I never beat this game. So a few Christmas’ ago I bought my little brother a Genesis and this video game, telling him it would be something cool to have when he goes away to college. Who was I kidding? The truth was that I had unfinished business with Road Rash 2 and haven’t been able to sleep for over a decade because of it.
I thought beating this game would be one of my easier sabbatical goals to accomplish. I was wrong. This game is impossible. As an adult (kind of), I still couldn’t get past the third level. Apparently my hand eye coordination and mental capabilities have not improved since the fourth grade.
A few weeks ago my friend Adam suggested finding a cheat code that will take me to the fifth and final level. I’d never thought of doing that. I’ve explored other options in my mind, such as kidnapping a game wizard and forcing him to beat Road Rash 2 at gun point… but I never thought of simply looking up a cheat code. After searching the internet for less than four seconds, Adam found a cheat code that took us to the last level, and we only had to win one race to beat the whole game.
Only one race? No problem.
Problem.
Adam and I spent an entire Saturday afternoon trying to win this one race with absolutely no luck. It was impossible. Even Adam, who is a much better gamer than I, couldn’t do it. I figured Road Rash 2 was my own personal hell, and mentally I gave up trying to escape it.
Last Wednesday I was bored out of my mind. More bored than ever. I was considering going to the movies to see The Princess and the Frog I was so bored. But instead of seeing an animated Disney movie by myself in the middle of the day, a move that would quickly get me on every child predator watch list in the nation, I decided to give beating Road Rash 2 another shot.
I sat down on my bed and began. And let me tell you, the first race I played, I was on fire! It was like I had Savants Syndrome (what Rain Man had). I couldn’t lose. I hadn’t crashed once and I was in first place. Then, a mile away from the finish line, about fifteen seconds away from the promised land, I crashed. And a cop was there. I was arrested. Game over.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
I shouted so loud that the neighbors must have thought that I just found out a family member was murdered… or that I was in the process of murdering a family member. My Savants Syndrome was cured at the most inopportune time. I was crushed.
Luckily, because it was so cold outside, I stopped short of chucking the Sega Genesis out the window. Instead I decided to try again. This time…
I won.
I couldn’t believe it. I beat the game. Granted, I used a cheat code that got me to the last level with the best motorcycle and only one race to go, but so what? The game is still impossible. And I beat it. Now I was ready for the pay off.
A big reason I wanted to win this game was to not only feel like I was a better person than I was in fourth grade, but I also wanted to see what happens when you actually beat it.
In my mind, considering how difficult the game was for me…
This is what I thought would happen:
I get a knock at the door. It’s a high class prostitute sent from EA sports. She tells me that she heard about my win and was paid to do anything I want. I tell her that I want her to fix the engine in my car so I can pass my emissions test. She leaves to do just that. But she’s left behind a lease to a summer share at the Jersey Shore.
While signing all the necessary papers for my summer share, I get a phone call. It’s President Barack Obama calling to congratulate me. He offers to send me another high class prostitute. I tell him that I already got one and she’s fixing my car, but if there is something he can do about getting more Taco Bell locations in Roselle, I would be thrilled. He makes it his highest priority (sorry people without health care).
I get another knock at the door. It’s Steven Speilberg asking if he can hire me as a writer. He’s willing to pay me an enormous amount of money. I tell him no. I’m no sell out.
The high class prostitute comes back and leaves with Steven Spielberg. I regret my decision. Not with Spielberg, but with the prostitute. I should have had her clean the apartment. It’s a pigsty.
But…
This is what actually happened:
A short video is played of your guy hopping onto a truck bed with his motorcycle. Then a helicopter comes down. You grab onto a ladder coming from the helicopter and it flies you away. The end.
………
what…..
the…..
fuck….
It didn’t even say congratulations. In fact, the game doesn’t even end. It just takes you back to the 5th level and gives you the opportunity to play it over. No prostitute, no Jersey Shore lease, no phone call from the president. Just a short four second movie followed by the realization of how much time you’ve wasted in your life.
I sat for a while in shock.
“That was it? Nothing else happens?” It was more disappointing than the ending of The Sopranos.
I considered getting a bottle of champagne and celebrating, but partaking in celebratory drinking by myself on a Wednesday afternoon because I won a video game from the early nineties sounded more depressing than my original Princess and the Frog plan. So I took a nap.
Game over.
By Sean Patrick
In less than a month, I will be turning twenty-eight years old. And like every person in their late twenty-sevens, over the years I’ve watched a ton of My Super Sweet Sixteen episodes on MTV.
The parties these kids have for their sixteenth birthdays are insane. I remember getting a cake that had my face on it for my sixteenth birthday and thinking that my parents spent way too much money on my party. But the kids on this show… their parents spend well over $100,000 to throw them a birthday celebration. It’s outrageous!
It seems like every party has the same formula: give out great invitations, reserve a huge venue, have a glorious entrance, stage an unforgettable performance, get a famous musical entertainer to attend, and receive a new car.
This got me to thinking: what kind of party I would want this year if I had an unlimited budget? After giving it much thought, I would like to cordially invite you all to…
MY SUPER SWEET TWENTY-EIGHT!
Invitations – To have a successful super sweet twenty-eight birthday bash, it is necessary to give out awesome invitations. This is the first thing you do where you get to display how wealthy and accomplished your family is. If I had tons of money, I wouldn’t give out paper invites… I would have the invite list announced by our president during the State of the Union Address.
This is the most important speech made by the president… so it would be more than fitting that during it he would announce the guest list to the most important party of my life! To further it’s status of importance, I would want the announcement to interrupt the updates on the War in Afganistan.
Speaking of interrupting, I would purposely include the name of someone who is actually not invited to my shin-dig. After his name was called, I would have Republican Joe Wilson yell out, “YOU LIE!”
Then Obama would confess that he was lying, and that the person he just called out wasn’t actually on the invite list. This would be followed by laughter at the expense of whomever the joke was on.
Venue – Location location location! This can make or break a great party. The kids on the show always want to rent out a venue that is extremely large, expensive, and hard to get. Since I want to one up all these bastards, I would rent out a place that would be nearly impossible to land: A Prison.
What’s bigger and harder to rent out than a prison? And I’m not talking about an empty prison… I want a full functioning jail overpopulated with psychotics and delinquents. But what do we do with all these prisoners? Well, we invite them!
I realize that this is a truly selfish act on my part, for I will be putting all my guests into mortal danger… but me giving prisoners the chance to take a break from their typical day to day routine and attend a party with a bunch of defenseless twenty-somethings would make me so popular with them that I would be our generations Johnny Cash!
Entrance – This is where I’m very similar to sixteen year old girls. I totally want buff shirtless dudes carrying me in on some sort of elegant sofa chair. I can’t think of a better way to enter a room. If I could go into the DMV like that, I’d be there everyday.
Performance – This is very important if you want all of your friends to respect you. Getting up in front of all your peers and performing a dance, magic, song, etc., lets them know that you have a talent that they lack, and on your birthday you want everyone to feel inferior.
Although I feel my dancing skills are slightly better than most pudgy caucasian males my age, I really want to bring my audience to tears. That is why I would perform a skit. And for my skit I will reenact the scene from My Girl, where Vada Sultenfuss is forced to say goodbye to her dead friend Thomas Jay.
I, playing the role of Vada, will walk on stage crying. After asking the actor who is portraying Thomas Jay to climb trees with me, I will inform my audience that “his face hurts” and ask, “where are his glasses?!? He can’t see without his glasses!” This will make even the prisoners weep.
I realize that my performance piece may put my guests into a very somber mood. That is why immediately after it is when they’ll get to see my new car!
Car - At the end of every show, there is an announcement made that everyone has to go outside to see the birthday girl’s surprise gift. Even though the guests pretend not to know what the surprise outside will be, they are all aware that the rich bitchy girl is about to be unjustly rewarded for her shitty attitude with a brand new automobile.
I want this moment too. However, I’m not really much of a car guy. I drove a mini-van for the first eight years of my driving career, and to this day I miss the extra space that came with the 1993 Ford Aerostar. But since I’ve been driving a regular sized car for the last three years, I’ve grown fond of not being so high off the ground when I’m cruising around.
To get the best of both worlds, the car that would be waiting for me outside would be…
A Hearse!
Look at all that space! It’s the perfect automobile! I can drive all of my friends around in that thing and never have to worry about getting pulled over… cause what sort of cop is going to pull over a hearse? How insensitive! Plus if this screenwriting thing doesn’t work out , I’ll have another job waiting for me in my driveway!
Now I know what you loyal Super Sweet Sixteen fans are thinking: what about the musical act?
Musical Entertainer – This is the part of the show where I truly feel old. I never know who the rap artists is or who the bands are that perform at these birthday parties. That’s why for my party, I would want to make sure that people from all generations know who my performer is.
Well, guess who’s in the back of my brand new hearse! ……..
Michael Jackson!
The King of Pop, at my party! That would guarantee that my guests would “Remember The Time” they went to Sean Milnamow’s birthday bash!
If Michael were alive I’d be a legend, but having his corpse arrive at my prison party five months after his death… I’d be the most talked about person in the world! Well, maybe not the most talked about…
Obviously Michael isn’t going to be able to get up and perform any songs, but we could still open up the casket and look at him while we play the Thriller album. That should be just as good and probably even scarier than watching the Thriller video.
We would have to take special precaution with him around the prisoners though: they’ve been locked for a while, and Michael may be the closest resemblance they’ve seen to an unconscious woman in quite some time.
Thank you all for attending my Super Sweet Twenty-Eight!
