Monday, March 10, 2008

Waldo would suck ass as a friend

As a kid the "Where's Waldo?" books were the best. There was nothing funner than trying to spot a nerdy white guy who looked like his wardrobe was the cross between K-Mart and the rejected Fall '85 catalog of J-Crew.

But as cool as he seemed in book-form, Waldo would be the worst person to know in real life. Ever. Can you imagine going out with your friends and Waldo and he keeps on getting lost? I mean every time you turn out, Waldo gets fucking lost.

I mean I imagine the first couple of times it's kinda cute in the hey-guys-we-have-another-crazy-story-about Waldo kinda way. "Oh snap, we lost Waldo, again!" But after a couple of weekends of going out, you'd be like "Fucking aye, Waldo's missing... let's ditch his sorry ass."

Waldo would be that guy who would call you several hours after you leave a bar and be like "Hey can you guys come back and get me? I'm wearing the same stupid hat red and white hat. Try to find me!"

Fucking Waldo.

Not to mention that Waldo's insistence on wearing the same clothes all the time would piss me off. I mean you couldn't even go to most nice places if you're buddy kept on wearing emo-rocker jeans, brown boots (not even Timbs!) and a cane.

Where's Waldo? Hanging out by his own loser-self is the answer. Waldo has to figure out his own shit and stop getting lost. I know I ain't driving his ass home any more.

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