The ERIN WILSON Challenge

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A little history here…. I used to write for a little newspaper thing called Connect Statesboro. I was writing an article for the local theater at the time my friend was in Mame. I wrote this in response to a conversation we had. I still laugh every time I read it. 

The other day I was at my friend Lucas’ house, and who was there much to our delight? Why it was ERIN WILSON. Lucas is the brother of ERIN WILSON. I mentioned to her that I was doing an article on Averitt Stars and ERIN WILSON, being the kidder that ERIN WILSON is, said, “I’ll pay you five dollars for every time you mention my name.” We laughed, ERIN WILSON and I, but thought, “Wow, Five dollars! I think I can fit the name ERIN WILSON in an article maybe, what, twenty times!” and that is exactly what I told ERIN WILSON.

ERIN WILSON was of course, the break out star of Mame. I’ve known ERIN WILSON for quite a while and I can tell you that the term “break-out star” is vastly understating the awesomeness of talent the encapsulates the woman known to many as ERIN WILSON. I’ve been best friends with ERIN WILSON’s husband Jason for years and I’ve had the pleasure of knowing all three of ERIN WILSON’s angelic children who were no doubt plucked from the bosom of heaven itself to round out the picturesque family of ERIN WILSON.

Here’s a fun fact about ERIN WILSON that you might not know. ERIN WILSON has, somewhere in ERIN WILSON’s house, a CD of herself, ERIN WILSON, singing Kelly Clarkson’s “Breakaway.” I’m told that it is just as good if not better than the original which ERIN WILSON covered. You might be wondering why I am taking the time to type ERIN WILSON in all caps. That is a calculated move by me as a writer. I am drawing attention to each mention of that majestic name of ERIN WILSON by placing it higher that all the other words so it stands tall and proud. ERIN WILSON’s name will be the fiery beacons that light this article, so that you will never forget the day you read this article that I’m writing about ERIN WILSON.

At last count I believe that ERIN WILSON has appeared in this article at least 23 times. Excuse me…

ERIN WILSON

25 times. That last one counts as two because it’s bigger. (Note: It’s supposed to be bigger but I can’t figure out how to make it bigger on this blog.) I believe I have not only fulfilled the contract that ERIN WILSON and I had, but exceeded. Much like ERIN WILSON exceeds our expectations every time she appears on stage. In summation, no clumsy collection of words could ever really give an apt description of the woman ERIN WILSON. So I will end with the only thing that can: ERIN WILSON.

 

Walmart Gear Solid: Groceries of the Patriots

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When I was single, grocery shopping was so much easier. Without having to think about a budget or two other human beings, I could basically buy whatever I wanted (like Chocolate Covered Chocolate Bites). The only downside of this was… well… I could buy whatever I wanted (New and Improved Chocolate Covered Chocolate Bites… now with more chocolate!). Also, since I wasn’t really what one might call a “skilled cook” I had to get stuff that was easy to make. Stuff that required no more than some water (or milk) and, if I was feeling particularly driven and motivated that day, some heat. Usually my shopping lists looked something like this:

1. Cereal

2. Frozen pizza

3. Frozen tv dinner

4. Cheese puffs

5. Chocolate

6. New Megadeth CD

I took my time back then. I’d swing around to the video game and DVD section, perhaps stop at the magazines and pick up a new issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly. Grocery shopping was not a “task” it was just something fun to do. It’s different now. Grocery shipping is a MISSION. You know, like in Metal Gear Solid. Get in, extract groceries, get out. Extra points for not killing anyone.

These days my grocery shopping trips are coordinated with laser precision. I have already scoped the kitchen out for the items we need. I have the list made up ahead of time. Not only that but I have shopped in my head and made the list to match the layout of the store. With a little luck I can get in and acquire the data groceries, without alerting the guards my wife to any sales.

That’s why all this preparation is necessary. My wife still thinks grocery shopping is some fun adventure where a prize is given out for the most lollygagging. My daughter is no better. Without my planning I will have a cart full of clothes, dolls, books, crayons, pajamas, but nothing to eat. If I take my beautiful ladies grocery shopping they will, without fail, come to me with some extraneous doodad they want to buy. Sometimes this is a point of friction in our marriage. She just doesn’t understand how not following the list kills your end game ranking budget. Sometimes my wife will suggest that treating grocery shopping like a military operation is maybe not the best idea. Sometimes I even listen to her.

She might be on to something. I find myself having to resist the temptation to strangle and/or CQC (close quarters combat) throw someone to the ground because they are in front of the cereal and refuse to move. Don’t they know how important Honey Nut Cheerios are to the mission?! Sometimes it’s not one, but two people roadblocking the isle while they chat about their intestinal polyps or whatever people chat about at the grocery store. And I just stand there, patiently waiting for Meemaw and Aunt Elma to finish their dissertations on diarrhea, because I am far too polite to tranquilize them with my trusty M9 and move on.

I suppose if I treated grocery shopping more like happy adventure time I wouldn’t get so annoyed. Then again, I’m afraid if I don’t we’ll spend a thousand dollars a week. So perhaps I’ll try to back off a bit. But I’ll still keep my M9 handy just in case.

An Evening With Eva and The Fuhrer

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I don’t often go to midnight game releases, but when I do I meet some strange people.

It was late March. The game: Bioshock Infinite. I hadn’t originally planned to go to the midnight release because two words: midnight release. I am an old man and waiting until midnight for anything is asking a bit much. However, my mother was in town and agreed to watch the little one so my wife and I could go. We don’t get to go out much these days, so when I offered to take my wife on the whirling maelstrom of happy adventure that was Bioshock Infinite Midnight Release, she couldn’t help but say yes.

Most of it was fairly standard. Wait in line. Get your number. But that “wait in line” part can be packed with some entertaining stuff.

For instance, while we were all camped outside an old black woman drove up in a minivan. She was inquiring as to what game we were waiting for. “Luigi’s Mansion?” she asked. “Nope,” we all said in unison. She still pestered us all about Luigi’s Mansion for a good ten to fifteen minutes. Keep in mind, this was around ten or eleven o’clock at night. I got to thinking… what’s the deal with this woman and her obsession with Luigi? Furthermore, what strangled path of her life led her to this moment? She’d probably been waiting for this moment for months. I can imagine her out on the hunt. She’d probably stopped in every store. “You got ‘Luigi’s Mansion?’” she would ask. “No ma’am, this is McDonald’s.”

And why Luigi? Why not Mario? I can only imagine the talk at her hair salon. Yapping to her friends:

“You know that Mario – he a chump. He be all getting’ that girl from Bowser and she be goin’ right back. E’erbody know she humpin’ Bowser. How you gon’ go, ‘Ooh, Mario save me! I got captured again!’ See, now Luigi don’t get played like that. He a real man. And he got two jobs! Two! He a plumber and a ghostbuster! What Mario do? Get played like a little punk, that’s what he do.”

We also got to chat with, among others, a Pokemon fangirl and an inordinate number of cross-eyed gentlemen. I am not making that up. One in particular I had nicknamed “The Fuhrer.” He was a short guy dressed all in black. He had chains and silver military paraphernalia pinned to his shirt. Epulets, iron crosses, and whatever that bird is people plaster on something when they want it to look vaguely Nazi-ish. The works. He blathered on about Rammstein and getting bombed at Oktoberfest. And Germany. Oh, how he loved Germany.

His little girlfriend was dressed in black as well, but she had more of a goth/steampunk sort of vibe and was actually kind of sweet. She seemed a lot more normal. I couldn’t tell if she was actually into all the dressing up or just humoring her boyfriend. I’m pretty sure she’s different when she’s not with her SS soldier of a man. She’s probably just wearing a t-shirt and jeans… and comparing insurance rates and checking on how her stocks are doing. It was a very interesting evening and they did seem like nice people. However, it was a little hard not to be scared. I did not want to end up in some creepy couple’s sex dungeon without even getting Bioshock Infinite.

The evening came to an end. We all trudged home, Bioshocks in hand and immersed ourselves in a world of intrigue and adventure. Ha ha! I’m just kidding. We went home and installed discs, installed updates, and redeemed codes. Then we went to bed with the desperate hope that everything would be installed and downloaded by morning so we could actually play the game.