Saturday, May 05, 2007

How The Mighty Have Fallen

Nothing bad has ever happened to me. Okay, that's a lie! I love starting the morning that way. Let me rephrase -- nothing bad has ever happened to me that has been broadcast over the internet. But that's not entirely true either. I tell lots of stories on myself each day and post them right here for you, dear readers. But nobody has ever videotaped me in a state of slurring misery like David Hasselhoff and had the courtesy of putting it on YouTube where it could be played over and over again by assholes like myself who enjoy the occasional trainwreck, provided we're not in it. It's an oh how the mighty have fallen sort of thing -- ie, there's the man who brought us the brilliance that is Knight Rider and Baywatch on the floor, being told by his teenage daughter that there would be "no more alcohol or else you lose your show, Dad."
It's Cinco de Mayo which puts me in mind of tequila, a mostly evil substance (I'm speaking of the cheap stuff -- El Torro comes to mind) that has led to two particularly bad moments, both on this date years ago. Very few people know what the hell happened historically on Cinco de Mayo except that we are treated to an endless display of Corona commercials which somehow has managed to become an integral part of decorating along with the chili pepper lights which remain popular in Texas. I am no exception when it comes to my own Cinco de Mayo history. I can only say that I'm glad nobody had a video camera or camera of any kind. Not that I was rolling around the floor, slurring my words like poor David H. Not that I said, I think I'm going to take off my clothes now before someone pulled me out the door. No, nothing like that. Let's just be glad I didn't have a show to lose. Kit, the groovy talking car on Knight Rider, would have never made it out of the parking lot if I had been behind the wheel.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Life is short, but desire, desire is long." Jane Hirshfield
Cocktail Hour
Drinking novel suggestion: Cat's Eye Margaret Atwood
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Cinco de Mayo!


JR's Thumbprints said...

I have a certain rock video from 1982 that I'd like to post on YouTube. The usual stuff, me playing guitar to AC/DC or poorly lip syncing a Jim Morrison song. I'm sure the others rockers in it would not be so appreciative. But hey, what can you do to get your blog ratings up? Perhaps, I'll treat everyone to it on my blog-birthday.

Gregory Pecker said...

I always read "Tequila Mockingbird" on 5 May. Cheers.

TV Guide said...

Twenty-nine more days until the last day of the Sopranos!

Native Detroiter said...

Go Wings!!!Beat da Sharks!!!

Paris Hilton said...

I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Kramer said...

At least he hasn't made any porno videos that we know of, unlike Pam Anderson, not that there's anything wrong with that, Hasselhoff, I mean.

Dr. Laura said...

Do we know if the video of Hasselhoff was SOLD to anybody? Maybe he needs cash and just doesn't care anymore.

Charles Gramlich said...

I'm glad I'm not famous enough to have people videotape some of my less than stellar moments.

the walking man said...

A short history of Cinco de Mayo

I guess the difference is i simply don't care what happens in my life and if someone ever wanted to waste tape on filming it and then take time to upload it then all I know is it would be one of the least watched videos on the internet.

When I was a drunk they would see me sitting in a chair drinking directly from the fifth and occasionally going outside to piss off the porch into the bushes. An indirect message to my neighbors.

When I was getting physical with someone there usually would be a bit of blood, which may make for some quick entertainment.

When I was a mechanic they would see grease up to my elbows, sweat all over me and hear a lot of fucking swearing as i made the machine do what I wanted it to do.

when I was a road dog they would have seen a man walking down a road.

when i was a writer they would have seen the back of a man who uses no more than four fingers to type and always forgets to capitalize I.

And now they would see a man who uses needles and takes more drugs than most people and finds ways to make the day go by.

So get your cameras out and come on by and make me into a you so I can be someone on the tube.



A warning sign said...

On cinco de feb, I turned onto a freeway on ramp, saw a wrong way sign (posted for the off ramp next to me but unfathomable by me at that moment of spinning oblivion) and I completely felt like I was going into oncoming traffic, so I pulled a u turn on the ramp, drove through reeds and rolling ditches back onto north river road and took gratiot home. The next day I went by the scene of the crime to do a drive by investigation, realizing that I had tricked my own dumb, formaldehyde pickled-drunk ass into thinking the reverse of reality was actually true. Good thing no cameras were in the vicinity, at the very least.

Not el toro, though I loved your hint toward confession involving that particular volatile spirit. Capn's n coke and libations of Jaegermiester were my wrecking ball of choice on that night, and many others as well. Complimentary juxtaposition of tastes, baby, like pork chops and apple sauce. May not sound good to you, but I say better than shots of straight vodka with an occasional anything chaser--I don't prance around when it comes to getting wrecked. I drink like a barbarian fresh off a season of running with the horde. I will die like a barbarian, boots on, chained and stuffed in a cold cell;
or cold and stuffed into the binding, eternal mother earth.

Aleric, king of the Goths said...

True confessions like mine need a name.
This one's a root of mine.

A trully great barbarian was he.
The Eternal City was brought to it's powder-puff patrician knees by his horde of barbarians and former slaves.

When he died, his people diverted a river in Italy, buried him in the river bed and released the flow to hide his grave forever.

Died from drinking too much.

KVjr said... it goes.

extra cheese said...

And I have to say that this pic is very nice. Had to. Couldn't go to work with a clean conscience without saying it.
Who wants a guilt-riddled pizza man moping around with their food, anyway? Not any of my customers... ...they only expect bigger to be better, and I have to deliver on this fallacy, time in time out...
the pressure...

Susan Miller said...

Your sympathy for him is refreshing, Michelle. I actually heard the phone call on a radio broadcast and cringed for both his daughter and him.

Off to drink Coronas and hide in dark corners so that nobody can see me. Peace out, my friend.

Anonymous said...

The historical reference for Cinco de Mayo - the outnumbered Mexicans shoved out the French. I wonder what Mexico would be like if the French had won? Hmm?

Jacques e Cousteau said...

You still wouldn't want to drink the water.

E-bag said...

Go Wings!
4-1 over Sharks

Go Pistons!
95-69 over Bulls

Surf and Turf served up for your Cinco de Mayo dining pleasure, right here in the friggin' D, baby! Cheers.

sleepwriter said...

If Mexico was French, then Taco Bell would be a trully strange place. Perhaps the Eifel Tower would have been built in Mexico City, or Acopulco.
Mexican Hockey?
Maybe they'ed all listen to Zydeco.

Escargot Nachos said...

Pardon the name, m.
I know of your much-reknowned fondness for us snails and our welfare and whatnot, but have you tried us with sour cream and fresh processed chedder sauce spread over gormet pre-packaged tortilla chips? Scrumdiddilyumptious, I hear.

Maybe Mexico would have surrendered at the onset of wwii.

Mexico is a destination for lovers already, but it might it not reach a greater magnitude? Like New Orleans and Paris and San Franscisco and Rome combined with Cancun.
Aye Aye Aye

those damn nachos said...

...but not if they were eating me!