So the other day I wrote a
lie nice piece of fiction about getting attacked by a bear. It reminded me of something funny I did a few years ago, The Uncle Carl story…
For those of you not familiar, back before Facebook, Twitter, and whatever else there is out there, we had AOL IM. I used to put up funny away messages, sometimes movie/music quizzes, and sometimes I would do little rants. Those rants would eventually lead me to start a livejournal page, which would then lead to me writing this page. And that is the history of my blog, yay.
Anyways, one night back in January of 2005, I was about to head over to Champs because I did not feel like playing poker at my place and that was what everyone wanted to do. This was also the period in time that I knew all the bartenders at Champs (way too many free drinks) and was trying to bang at least two of the waitresses. Anyways, before I left I wrote a little away message saying something “My Uncle Carl died, heading to Champs.”
I get over there and really think nothing of it. After a few beers I receive a text message from Jason asking me if I am alright. I think he is retarded and say yes (I have completely forgotten about the away message), but then a few minutes later he shows up. He wants to know if I need to talk about my uncle. I start laughing and explain to him that I have no Uncle Carl, it was a joke. As he leaves, I tell him to not say anything to anyone while they are playing poker.
When I get home, I find out that Shellie was planning on buying me a muffin basket. I had to come clean and that caused me to write this.
Needless to say, I did it again by worrying my family. Apparently they did not read the small print in my bear post, and they were frightened for my safety. I really do not think I would get home after being attacked by a bear and sit down to write a blog post about it. Okay, yes I would…