Guys, guys, GUYS! It’s Friday, which means it’s Fried-ay, which means it’s time for me to once again dominate the Internet for however long it takes you to read this blog.
For those unfamiliar, Fried-ay is a weekly blog I write on Fridays where I explain what Fried-ay is. So yeah, Fried-ay is everything, but it’s also nothing. It’s love, it’s life, it’s liberty, and it’s the pursuit of degeneracy. Let’s get into it…
I once nicknamed this handicapped Asian kid in college “The Keymaker,” in reference to that pint-sized Asian dude from the second Matrix movie. I don’t know why I’m starting Fried-ay off with that but screw it—I was driving to work, remembered it, laughed, and thought to share it.
Speaking of funky Asians, I planned on seeing Detective Pikachu last night but elected to go later tonight instead.
For the record, I used to be a HUGE Pokémon guy back in the day. I could probably still name at least 90% of the original 150 with a gun to my head. That said, it’s pretty safe to say I was pumped when I heard they were making a movie; however, there are two problems at play here.
The first problem is that, although I’ll take any live-action Pokémon movie at this point, the one they decided to make is based on some one-off handheld game I guess. As I said, I’ll take a movie based on “Detective Pikachu,” but I don’t think I’m alone when I claim I want a full-fledged, 2-hour masterpiece on the original narrative of Ash, Misty, Brock, and Team Rocket.
The second problem is that I’m on the back nine of my twenties and there are some things I need to be careful about. In other words, I’m reaching that “potential pedophile” age where anyone with a mustache is considered suspect.
Long story short, I have a mustache right now and heading by myself to a movie intended for 8-year-olds to satisfy some obscure, nostalgic thirst can get dicey. For this reason, I offered to bring my little cousin to see it because he loves Pokémon. Shortly after, I learned he already had plans to see the movie tomorrow with his shithead friends. Fucking clown. Looks like I’m shaving and attending the post-9:30 PM showing…
I’m not someone with road rage but FUCK reckless people on the highway. Every morning, I set my alarm for two hours before work so I have adequate time to get to work at a leisurely pace. For some reason, other people don’t do this.
For the record, if the speed limit is 65 mph and I’m going 80 mph, don’t ride my God damn ass. Why? Because, I don’t know, I’m going fucking 80 mph! Not to sound cocky, but my life is worth a tad more than you getting to work on time.
And it’s always the same guy who’s on my tail. It’s the guy who drives the F-250 with energy drink/anti-welfare decals on the back of his truck because obviously everyone needs to know this guy drinks caffeine and holds a reliable job.
-Joey Boats (@joey_boats)