Now, I have nothing against Shelley Smith as a person. It's just that everytime I see her I can't help but think "I could be watching Rachel Nichols right now." Rachel Nichols is on that list of women that most people don't think are attractive but I secretly have crushes on. Just like Sarah Silverman, Ricki Lake, and Kari Byron from Myth Busters. Don't judge me. And actually, I'd like to take that back. I do have a problem with Shelly Smith as a person. I swear to Thor, as I was typing this an interview with Shelly Smith came on ESPN and I hate her cheek bones. That's right, I said it. I understand it's weird, but certain characteristics on a person just make me angry. Like the waitress from Twilight's lips. And Tyra Bank's forehead. And Anna Faris' new lips. And Michael Jordan's hoop earring. Anyways, back to Shelly. She also co-wrote Keyshawn Johnson's book "Just Give Me the Damn Ball!" which just surprises me more than anything else. What an awful person.
For those of you that don't watch ESPN. It's this:
Alright, every Friday I'm going to try to post a random computer drawing from one of my friends, and try to figure out what's going on in the picture. You can send me a picture whenever you want, just Email Me.
This one's pretty easy because OBVIOUSLY this is a picture of when Pee-Wee Herman and Ariel traveled to the Ancient Blue Mountains in Greece to try and find the Rubber Duck that gave birth to all life. Then the Wicked Vacuum of the West showed up, and started sucking up everything in sight. Eventually the Rubber Duck was lost, and so were Pee-Wee Herman's parachute pants. Ariel kept what little clothing she had, but her hair mysteriously turned yellow...because I said so. The moral of the story is, when creating vacuums, never forget the on/off switch.
Drue is really talented. We're working on making a guitar/melodica cover of a song that we have not yet revealed to the world. But you guys will know sooner or later. And you're going to be amazed. Jesus himself will return to earth just so he can hear us play live. And when he returns to heaven he will take with him all of those who have heard our awesome music, and leave behind those who haven't, so that they may dwell in the nothing-ness that is a Shawn Washington/Drue Grahman-less Planet.
So basically, if you want to go to heaven, listen to us play.
Tonight there was one the biggest thunderstorms ever. Literally. I looked it up in the "Convenient Facts That Aren't Necessarily True" book that I'm currently writing. Anyways, it was kinda creepy. Usually I'm all, "it's just a noise why is everybody so scared?" Then my windows started rattling. I looked outside cause for some reason that's what loud noises make me want to do. There was almost constant lightning for about 45 seconds. Which was kinda cool in a "this is really dangerous" kind of way. Then I went back to playing my melodica, cause fuck the weather.
On Monday I got to speak at this charity fund raiser thing and I didn't really know what to say. I didn't know I was going to be speaking until I got there, and really the only guideline I was given was to make it last 3 minutes. I think I did a pretty good job though. I mean, people clapped when I was done. But then again that's a general reaction so who really knows how I did. I wish I could paraphrase what I said and make it seem really cool so the internet will think I'm a badass, but I honestly can't remember a thing I said. Oh wait, I just checked the "Convenient Facts That Aren't Necessarily True" book again, and apparently I recited something as moving as MLK's "I Have a Dream" speech. The crowd went wild.
I'd like to point out that I'm not blaming her for me being fired. But I do blame her for not taking my shift.
When I first asked Samantha if she wanted my shift, she said "I'll think about it." Mind you, this was on Thursday, 3 days before the date of the shift.
If she had of said "Oh, sorry. I already work." or "Sorry, I gotta family thing." or even "Fuck T-point." I would of been fine with that. But noooooooo, she chose to lead me on. THEN on Saturday, the day before the shift, she tells me, "Oh, I took someone else's shift."
Wait, WHAT? You took someone else's shift? After letting me think that you were going to take mine? Even though I asked a million days before they did? I SO blame Samantha for that.
...I'd also like to point out that I'm not mad about it or anything. I'm just saying.
ESPN's Shelley Smith.
