This page copyright 1998 The Shrubbery
I Don't Shut Up!
February, the month of love. and Groundhogs. and Presidents. and Black History.
Oh and an extra day, sometimes.
But the first topic, being one that has eluded me for so long, is now that which has become of most interest.
To be blunt, Ryan Glowczewski, for the first time in his twenty years on the planet, kissed a girl.
I would like to note that I mean kissed as opposed to kissed, as in kissing your mom, or your sister. You know what I mean. You've probably been doing this way before I started. I'm old hat at the kissing your mom thing. oooops, I mean...
It started with the look. I believe it's a sonar thing, or perhaps like a modem handshake. My eyes ask for permission. Her eyes return permission
Or so I hoped... there wasn't any operators manual and my radar for feminine signals was brand new and I had just started trying it out.
As I move in closer, picking my target carefully, I notice she is moving to intercept and a little LED on the control panel lights up letting me know that my assumptions were correct.
So I lean over and kiss her.
I'm tense as hell and the whole logistics of the set up was not what I
was expecting. No one tells you about things such as:
So after a couple of seconds(minutes?hours?) I stop and I'm shaking very, very badly. And in what was the second most embarrasing moment in my life (the first comes later) I explain that, hey,I've never done this before, sorry for any ineptitude.
She (I love this girl) just goes "it's okay", and continues kissing me, and I'm apologizing, and she's just trying to get me to calm down, and...
Just to clarify myself I'm entirely enjoying the experience somewhere behind the scheer wall of insecurity.
But I'm still realizing that I'm doing very badly... so I ask, get this:
She (did I mention I love this girl) says I'm doing fine.
Later, however, she explains "don't be afraid to use your tounge."
Before we get to laugh at me some more, I should point out that somewhere in my mess of insecurity, I notice just how excited I am, ahemmmmm, and that certainly doesn't help ease my mind one bit.
Anyway, I ask her, "What exactly am I supposed to do with my toungue?" I'm real smart remember. Just forget that it's painfully obvious and praise me for my willingness to communicate in intimate moments.
She says, "whatever you want." And I'm thinking that that is not exaclty the sort of help I was looking for.
But that was then... and since I have learned several things, including what to do with my hands, how to close your eyes, and that the whole thing is easier when standing up.
Episode One (and if you don't know what I'm talking about, get out of the cave) is going to be a dissapointment.
Face it, you will wait in a very long line with all your cool friends who five years ago thought Star Wars was just a cool movie when you were a kid.
Face it, Yoda looks like he sat under a sun lamp and some of the laytex melted of his muppet face.
Face it, CGI is nice for dinosuars, nice for spaceships, but makes for wobbly charachters who look like one of those bendy figures come to life.
Face it, a PG rating means that Jedi Master Samuel L. Jackson will not be able to say "Mother F**king Dark Side" even once. Nor will a young, brash Obi Wan Kenobi be able tap a vein and get stoned on some high quality spice from Kessel, ala "Repulsorliftspotting".
Face it, the hype will crush anything.
But... at least Inspector Gadget will be worse.