Parking and Figure Skating

Welcome back my friends-

It’s been a while since I last wrote.  I wish it was for a good reason, but if any of you have ever seen a panda in real life, you know we generally just sit around and don’t do anything.  So that’s what I was doing for most of the time.   But recently, something big happened in the panda world.  Lil’ Wayne released his much anticipated album, Tha Carter IV.

Now, some of you may be saying, “Why the hell is that important to pandas?”  Well, it’s simple.  Lil Wayne has been known to sport the “Panda Adidas.”

Lil Wayne's Panda Sneakers

We pandas view this as an endorsement by Weezy F. Baby of pandas, the panda lifestyle, panda products, and anything panda.  Yes, yes, I should be appalled that he is wearing one of my brethren, but us pandas are selfless, and I, for one, would be honored if I were slaughtered and turned into a pair of kicks for the founder and CEO of Young Money Entertainment. But what this comes down to is Lil Wayne has given me inspiration to return to my pursuits of gaining fame and fortune by virtue of a bitchy blog, and most importantly, someday becoming neighbors with Wayne on I Don’t Give a Fuck Avenue.

A few weeks ago, I was presented with a particularly anxiety-causing situation.  I was parked in.  In my own driveway.  Now, if it were one of my parents’ cars parking me in, I would have been fine with it, for I could have just grabbed the keys and parked it in the street myself.  However, this was different.  One of my aunts was over and decided to park in the driveway, despite the ample parking spots in front of the house with plenty of shade.  But no, she decided to park me in.

Normally, most people wouldn’t think twice about going up to their aunt and saying, “Hey, I’ve got to head off to work, do you think you could move your car?”  Not with this aunt.  Engaging her in conversation is likely going to end with you crumpled in the corner endlessly nodding and saying, “Uh-huh,” to her mind-disintigratingly boring monologues that always end with, “Isn’t that interesting?” about any number of foreign-to-anybody-with-a-fucking-life topics from the Royal Lineage to figure skating (No, not the Royal Wedding.  Just the lineage).  I mean, I’m a 22 year old male.  My knowledge of anything remotely linked to figure skating is limited to two people:  Michelle Kwan and Scott Hamilton (And the only reason I care(d) about Michelle Kwan is because my parents raised me in a white neighborhood, and as a ten-year-old Michelle Kwan was only the second Asian I had ever known to even exist at that time, so I thought she was damn hot (needless to say she’s dropped down to about a 7 now that I’ve grown up and the females I deal with on a daily basis are much more developed (Nothing’s better than boobies)).  But Scott Hamilton, on the other hand, was the fucking man.  I mean, I don’t even care if he’s figure skating, he still would go out there in a three-piece-suit and leave in a frilly, giraffe patterned frock and neon pink nickers.  And on top of that, he did motherfucking backflips.  I mean, who cares if he’s old and can’t really nail the triple sow cow anymore, but how many people do you know can do backflips standing on solid ground?  Let alone of ice, slippery as hell, wearing a pari of razor sharp women’s shoes?  Wrong species or not, if I was a female I’d let him take me to town any day (I assume he still has moves wearing nothing but socks).

But really, is there anything more selfish than parking someone into their own driveway?  It’s says to that person, “Hey, I know you’ve got shit to do, but I just wanted to sit around here and tell you about my week.”  It’s like a living funeral.  (“I know you all love me and are going to miss me when I die, but I want to fucking see you say it, bitch.”)  Just be happy we still talk to you when we do.  Enjoy other things in your life.  If we’re too busy to see you, every once in a while it’s actually for a moderately decent reason.

But whatever.  I got to work on time, just a little scarred.  I promise to you all I will actually keep up with this shit.  Just like I quit smoking.  And took the GRE.  And never accidentally almost got a girl pregnant.  And didn’t move back in with my parents.  And got a good job.  But for real this time.

Take it easy,



About erfnompanda

Life can be anything you want. Or anything you don't want, for that matter. Me? Well, after four years, too many thousands of dollars in student loans, and a piece of paper that says that I can write the English language well, my life is somewhere between 2005 Charlie Sheen and 1980's Danny Bonaduce: Nowhere to go but down. So on my way down, I figure I'll pitch my last ditch effort at making my world-view known and, more importantly, take as many people as I can down with me. And so this, my friends, is Life According To The Panda. View all posts by erfnompanda

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