Life Journal

Comedy gold with a gay relative

Leave a comment

This recent trip to my apartment in Hawaii was a family affair as we attended the annual owners meeting. As they often do, my aunt and uncle attended but they brought my cousin Steven with them for the first time. Cousin Steven is gay and just recently out of the closet with everyone, which made for such wonderful “All in the Family” moments with my Archie Bunker dad that it was like a constant laugh track just kept playing in my head. Below I have chronicled my list of gay jokes I delivered with excellent timing and to various reacitons:

  • On a hike, one of the people with us had a bag of cashews and almonds and noted that they aren’t roasted, they’re just plain and natural.
    I added that its cool since my cousin has plenty of experience with raw nuts in his mouth.
  • On a different walk, we were going down stairs and he slid down a railing, which left a rust mark on the seat of his shorts, giving way to the remark that now he has a “rusty ass”.
    I said that if you mean rusty as in “out-of-practice”, then you have nothing to worry about.
  • Leaving a destination, we thought he had forgotten a camera there, but his dad had picked it up. So someone commented that “he saved his ass”.
    Only hearing parts of the setup, I jumped in to ask – saving his ass? for what? true love? eh-doubtful.
  • Returning from a hike in the jungle, he complained about how bad the mosquitoes were. No one else who went got bit a single time, so I said “maybe they were fruit flies”.
  • One night after going to a gay bar and not coming home, my aunt was rummaging around thinking out loud and said at one point that “[my cousin] didn’t give me back my hand sanitizer”.
    I chimed in that “I think he needs it more than any of us right now”. (she wasn’t amused)
  • When he finally did come home, him, my uncle and I took off in the car we rented to go meet the ladies who had taken the bus to the swap meet. While loading into the car, my uncle was looking for something and went to the back of the car to ask my cousin to “pop the trunk”.
    I pointed out that “I think he did that last night”.
Life Journal

Dwayne doesn’t want you to know he looks like Rotem Riss

1 Comment

I was sitting on the couch here doing some work on my laptop, minding my own business when Dwayne saw it fit to come fart on me. This amuses him every time since I get up and move away from the fog of his ass stink and he keeps doing it despite my saying not to. About 28 seconds later, he recalls a story about how an Israeli girl today told him he looked like one of her friends in Israel. Her name is Jorden (Jorden from Israel. cute, huh?) and she gave Dwayne the name of her friend and told him to Facebook him to see. I asked what it was and said I’d look it up right now for him and I did.

So this is Rotem Riss, who sure enough, looks a lot like Dwayne:

Except, for some reason, he REALLY doesn’t want Rotem to know this, cuz I announced I was going to message the dude with Dwaynes profile link and let him know about his twin in the American midwest and Dwayne fa-lipped.

First he just said NO a bunch of times and “cuz I don’t want you to” when I asked why and then he added that he didn’t want this guy to know who he was. I reminded him that thats not in play here cuz Facebook profiles are private and all he’ll be able to see is the profiles thumbnail pic – but still, I said, alright fine, I’ll just send a link to one of his pictures so he can see Dwayne but not know even his name or location. Still too much, so to stop the action of copying the picture url, Dwayne starts mashing his hands on my keyboard and pressing the power button and holding it down as long as he can hoping my computer will shut off before I can flick him away. So he ends up chasing me around the room for a few circles while my computer mouse is banging against shit and my computer lid is being flung up and down till I finally said: “FINE. Damn man. you made your point. Good thing you didn’t over react or anything”. Dwaynes response was “well why can’t you just do what I ask? you know, respect my wishes.”

Um… ya…

Helpful hint: making a case for the validity of a crazy over reaction thats premised on “respecting someone’s wishes” is best delivered at a point in time OTHER then when you just farted in your opponents face for the umpteenth time against their wishes.

I pointed this out to him of course, but he didn’t appear to understand the connection between his action that he thought was funny and not a big deal and mine (with the difference that mine was a first time offense).

weird. But Rotem is pretty cute though.

Life Journal

Dwayne is in the other room RickRolling himself right now

Leave a comment

I just heard Dwayne listening to Never Gonna Give you Up in the other room and I asked if he was Rick Rolling himself (which is an internet nerd thing which is basically a classic bait and switch: a person provides a weblink they claim is relevant to the topic at hand, but the link actually takes the user to the music video for that ridiculous song).

He had no idea what I just said. So I said it again – “Are you Rick Rolling yourself?”
He pauses for a second and says “No, Rick Astley sings this song”…
…

So I explained what Rick Rolling was and he said he doesn’t know about most internet things and went about his listening.

It was weird.

Life Journal

Hawaii bound with the boysez

Leave a comment

Dwayne and Wheeler flew into LAX from Missouri the night before and spent the night at my house before we all shoved off to hit my apartment in Hawaii for a week. It just happened to work out that my mom was visiting at the time so we had a ride to the airport, which was at least 90% better than hitchhiking the 101 at 7AM with only our smiles and offers of handjobs to get us by.

We got in late the night before so they boys didn’t see my mom till the morning where their personalities were illustrated to comedic effect noticed only by me. The shower head at my end of the house wasn’t working so I sent Dwayne to go wash his morning stink off down at my aunts end of the house. The guys haven’t seen my mom in 5 years since we left Missouri in 2003 and Dwayne was his usual cordial self, greeting her with a hug and “hello Mrs Bushnell” and all that crap. While I’m trying to figure out wtf is wrong with my washing device, Wheeler gets up from the couch (which for some inexplicable reason he was sleeping on even though I had a bed for him) to see what the commotion is about and gives a “hey, whats up?” to my mom as he presses the “don’t let water out” switch on the shower.

Here we are in my front yard having an awkward smile contest.

awkwardsmileboys

Life Journal

Mikey gets read the riot act

1 Comment

I SAID GOOD DAY! or no. no I didn’t. but that’s the only thing missing from this speech I just popped off to Mikey the highschool-best-friend-turned-douche.

He requested me on Facebook 2 or 3 years ago and I accidentally accepted it because I was still new to its un-myspacelike user interface. Once I realized he was on my friends list though, I gave an open mouthed gasp while letting my monocle drop from my eye and promptly deleted him. I guess he didn’t notice for awhile and requested me again months later. I accepted it by adding a “how do you know this person” detail (a feature in Facebook that lets people know how you know your friends list friends, be it school, work, S&M night at Scavo’s, etc) that the other person has to approve and in it I wrote:

Since he has to confirm this and didn’t, we remained not-friends on Facebook and he messaged me messaged me saying something like “Geez Bushnell. I continue to be baffled by your reaction to me. I know we’re not best of friends anymore but Facebook friends are different than real life friends. they’re more like associates”.

I rolled my eyes and was about to ignore the message when I felt a little bad since this loser is SO dumb and SO brain damaged by drugs an alcohol that he really probably doesn’t understand the reaction he’s getting. So I figured it was my duty as a decent human being to explain to him why he himself is not one, and also to put some of your curious minds to rest if you’re unclear on why he no longer appears in references and videos on richardland. SO… this is the message I sent him. It is an overshare of personal information in a style I probably should have ceased at High School’s end but that would kindov be going against the spirit of Richardland, so logged in its public history it must be. SO… this is the message I sent him.

I particularly like my use of “ever ever ever” and “but not me… [second line:] not me”. mmm. Poetry!

you have nothing to be baffled by.

Between Michael Glaser and You

you’re not an acquaintance.
you’re only a thin hairs tic away from being a full blown enemy, whose life i plan to make difficult in as many ways possible.

sorry your memory sucks but we arent old chums who drifted apart by chance or life circumstance and just kinda became less palzy with eachother over time.

you were a friend close enough to be family. i plucked your dorky butt from obscurity and made you a partner in the industry of my life. i had your back in battles of friends, school, your family, and love life despite having no personal gain and often receiving negative consequences from it. then you started to be kindov a crappy person that was less considerate of our friends, less interested in our own friendship, more selfish, and less prudent in life choices, but that was still whatevs until you outright betrayed me. but even after that i gave you a chance to keep a friendship and you said the most disgustingly amnesiac (root word “amnesia”) response as if i was just some dude you had met in the quad one day and had a cool convo with one time or something.

you changed into a person not worthy of my respect, became apathetic about me when i was still just as much on “your team”, then you betrayed me in a heinous way, then acted like i was nobody to you.

so go to hell. we are not friends on any level and you dont get the benefit of ever being positively associated with me ever ever ever.

you contact me every few years not with reconciliation, not with life reflection, not with sorrow or regret or a resolve to make things right – you just say “hey” and then act like you dont understand when youre not well recieved.

your strategy that time heals all wounds is probably workable with anyone else given the right amount of time.
but not me.
not me.
bye

lolz. The only unfortunate part of this is that there’s a 50/50 chance that he is not in on the joke of my writing structure anymore because that fun-part-of-life about him is probably dead. To me, this is a hilariously tragic soap opera worthy to be treated as such. It’s not a joke – it’s not a game (the sting of his betrayal was real and legitimately unforgivable without even suggestion of proper pennance, but things like that get emotionally dead to me after having gone through the mourning period) – but it IS silly relationship drama. So is he in on the candy coating of humor over this bitter pill? did he read this dramatically as intended? who cares. not I, said the duck. which is why i’m sharing it here. Batman Out.

Batman Out.

Life Journal

Chronicles of sickness

Leave a comment

I was staying at Jimmy’s house in St Louis and sleeping in his 3 year old daughters room since she was at her grandparents for the weekend. Well, she came back Sunday night instead of Monday so my ass was moved to the couch, where I was able to receive night number 2 of zero to 4 hours of sleep. This is just what the virus wanted. and it rubbed its little virussey palms together in satisfaction.

Monday: So I wake up and feel tired, droopy and have a cottonhead. Cottonhead isn’t a medical term even in slang, so don’t bother googling – I’m just saying my head felt like Cotton. You know – thick, fluffy, airy, the fabric of our lives. That kinda thing. So now what the eff am I supposed to do? I had previously considered staying in Missouri till the weekend when Wheeler would be back, but I couldn’t battle an oncoming fever virus with no juice,fruits,soups&meds on a couch for a whole week. I’d die. So I had to leave that day. But where? To home in California? eff that. My mom IMed me asking when I was leaving and I mentioned I was getting sick and that maybe I should stop by her place before going home. She said “yes. ok. come here” and booked me on the 2 o’clock flight to Texas. Go mom.

Afternoon: The whole plane ride I was fighting back the urge to vomit. I got the sickness bag ready in the seat pocket in front of me but never had to use it. Made the entire ride very uncomfortable though since I had to constantly concentrate on the back of my throat and be like “noo… no… ah!… noo..” the same way I do when I put a treat in front of my dog and make him sit and look at it till I say “okay” and he looks back and forth between me and the treat while leaning forward ever so slightly.
My dog was puke in that metaphor in case that was hard to follow btw.

Night: I made it to Texas, got my bag, and finally relaxed my defenses and let the virus take over. Despite picking up steaks at Costco on the way home, per my dads request, I passed them up when they were grilled and pretty much just collapsed and fell into the trippy whirlwind of feverland. It was like my head was a gas stove that had been on low for 2 days and when I was at last in surroundings where I could sleep, eat and be taken care of comfortably, my body said “FINALLY!” and turned the flame on to high. I think I even heard the “Pffffoo” blast too. Which sucks because that’s really great imagery, but gas grills are becoming scarce so I’m dating this post and in 8 years or so no one is gonna understand wtf I was talking about.

Continue reading Chronicles of sickness →

Life Journal

Playing hide-and-go-seek against 3 year olds RULES

Leave a comment

If you ever have the choice to choose your opponent in a game of hide and seek, pick 3 year olds. They’re just old enough to understand the concept and just young enough to dominate to cartoonish degree’s.

It’s awesome. You’re like the Dodo in Wackyland and they’re Porky Pig – or, if you didn’t get that reference and I’m losing you here – think more along the lines of Tom and Jerry and you’re Jerry. Or Tom. You’re the mouse. Crap, I’m ruining this post – here: I’m saying you’re the dominant leader in a cartoon chase and they’re the bewildered character going along for the ride getting foiled at every turn.

Every animated trick in the book works. You can turn a corner and stand flat against the wall and they will run right by you. You can disappear into the shadows and then re-emerge like it was a magic trick. You can fake them out one way and then while they’re still looking for you in that direction, already be behind them to deliver a tap on the shoulder and run down the hall like mad.

And since the little retards don’t understand voice physics yet, you can be hiding behind a chair in the living room and answer their “where aaaare youuuu?” call by yelling “in the dining room!” and the gullible little morons will actually run there instead of towards where they heard the voice coming from.

It’s great. They trot after you having no idea that they’re physically outmatched to impossible degree’s because they’re not old enough to have realized how that whole thing works yet. So every time they think they have a legitimate chance at catching you. Maybe THIS will be the time. Aw, almost.

No. Not almost you little soft boiled peanut. I was just taunting you. Mocking your inability to even almost come somewhat kind of close to catching me.

But you can’t. You won’t. You’re in my world now bitches.

Games of physical skill against 3 year olds RULES.

Life Journal

My Uncle the Snob

1 Comment

My parents and I went to a cousins wedding in Maine in September 2006. I was on a business trip to New York so they flew into JFK and picked me up with a rental car and drove up to Maine for the wedding.

On the way back to New York we drove with some other family groups who were driving to Boston and we all stopped in New Hampshire for lunch. Afterward we all went our separate ways. In the ensuing drive, my dad brought up the annual “you’re a failure doin this internet and Hollywood garbage so when are you going to go to college and make something of your life?” scolding. But this time with an added reason: One of my uncles had noted to my dad that I wasn’t making any money because if I had, then I would (or should) have offered to pick up the check for everyone. Adding further that either of his kids would have surely not allowed anyone but them to pay for the meal.

There are so many things wrong with that, not the least of which being that the comment itself was a totally dick thing to say, but lets explore the most obvious logic holes in my uncle “dog character from Family Guy”s rules of engagement:

The meal attendee’s consisted of my mom, dad, grandma, uncle and his wife, aunt, cousin, cousin2 and her husband and uncle and his wife. 11 people. No one expects my grandma to pay for anything ever anymore so that makes 10 possible check picker uppers. First, there’s the obvious question of why wouldn’t everyone just pay for their own meal – the answer to which, I have no idea. So one could try and figure out the pyramid of each persons “pay for everyone” expectation, but instead of trying to psychoanalyze his thought process, lets just weigh the merit of his end result: *I* should have paid for everyone’s lunch.

Ignoring that it was other people who suggested lunch, picked the place, invited everyone, ect – why would one of the offspring be expected to pay not only for their parents, but for the whole table? Further: I was one of 3 offspring, none of whom offered to pay for the table either. So why was I singled out? and should it matter that my 2 cousins are both 15 years older than I?

What the honkeytonk funkytown was going through my uncle’s rhyme’s- with-fryin’s head that made him think it was at all appropriate, let alone expected for the youngest family member at the table to pay for his extended family to eat a place he didn’t invite them to? Since its impossible to decipher, I shrugged it off to him just being kind of a jerk and moved on.

TIME LAPSE SEQUENCCCCCCE….

Fast forward a year later in August 2007, we are down in Coronado (San Diego) for another Bushnell cousins wedding. We go out to dinner the night before the event with a table of 16 or so people. The same uncle sits across from me. Before anyone has ordered, he is already arguing with my dad over who gets to pay for who, cuz that’s just the little competition thing they do to show dominance and status. I’m in amazement at how flipping ridiculous and elitist the whole concept is. Who the hell cares? I keep thinking to myself. “I wanna pay for your dinner tonight” should be answered in this case with a simple “F you, I wanted to pay for YOUR dinner tonight, but since it doesn’t frigging matter to me, I will either accept the offer or say no thank you and we each pay for our own. jolly good brother O!”. It’s not rocket science. And if one feels some smug sense of accomplishment because he force-paid for your meal, then you’re probably doing him a psychological favor.

But no, they bickered and got annoyed with each other over it until an agreement was made. Before and after that though, my uncle made several“Richard’s paying for the meal” jokes – cuz that’s so hilarious and all. Which was awkward because of the “several” aspect (at least 2, but i wanna remember maybe there being a third). One line would have been harr harr, very cute. But bringing it up again in different forms showed definite signs of wtf is with this guy.

For whatever reason, this particular uncle thinks I’m a bum and that no one is pointing it out (or at least not enough). It’s weird. It’s rude. It’s amusing. And yes, despite all his great personal qualities, it makes him a total snob.

Which of course all means that there is some element of truth to it all. Not that I am in any way at any level in any universe in any dimension of known or conceivable reality a bum in any conventional or abstract conservative or loose meaning of the word or its connotations – but the fact that I am easily viewed that way is…problematic.

Not because my own elitism dictates that I never be viewed negatively (even though we all know that is exactly the case at large, but i’m talking about this context specifically) but because of what a specifically unfortunate defamation it is considering my sterling work ethic, big ambitions, and time dedicated to making those ambitions a reality. The problem is that they are all work-for-yourselfy and thus seen as imaginary by traditionalists until after your first million is earned.

I’m annoyed at my uncles characterization of me and even more annoyed that it will be another 15 years probably before I am vindicated in my millions-pay-off, but the truth is that this is a self-marketing reality I don’t have a choice but to deal with. People don’t understand what I do or what I’m trying to do or how I’m trying to do it, and their first reaction given my presentation and demeanor is not that i’m a grindstone working dedicated temporarily downtrodden future millionaire but rather that i’m a bum and a mooch and that totally sucks.

I still think my unk was out of line, but it would be foolish of me to not take note of how I come off, even if its totally unjustified.

Life Journal

You know what we need more of? Single parents.

Leave a comment

Speaking of friends of mine that ruin their lives by knocking up chicks they’re not married to and keeping the baby (“keeping” meaning “not giving it up for adoption to a 2 parent stable and loving family that will love it and care for it and stuff” of course. not “keeping” meaning the alternative to having it cut up with a scalpel and sucked into a sink before its born) – Richardland Guest star Jimmy Bussey just illegitimately fathered a little girl who was birthed a couple days ago. I’m still waiting for some decent pictures and stuff but I’m sure she’s ugly, so its all good.

In honor of the joyous occasion of the birth of the girl Wheelers 1 year old son is going to knock up in 15 years and make early grandparents out of these 2 idiots, I encourage you all to go watch some vintage RTV videos of these new dads when they were young and care free. Before such foreign concepts entered their lives as child support, visitation, college funds and endless fighting, nagging and legal battling with women they signed up to be connected to for the rest of their lives despite not particularly liking them all that much.

Life Journal

Wuts UUUUP Cali

Leave a comment

Yo yo Cali-FO. How all the honeys be mackin an shwackin an crack-lack a ahckin for yo boy Richdawg with tha wut to the HEY to tha awww yeeeeeaaa.

Rich-ads in tha HOUSE. His..er..grandparents old house… where he now lives with his aunt.. ya. no, its pimp though. Got the pool here and its all fineburgers and candypop. Settling in, but not settling down – YOU FEEL ME DAWG? AHALOLLOL..lol..lo…lo-yea.. *awkward*

Welp. okay California… I’m here to facilitate awesomeness…

start to getting awesome….

California! Pictures, Images and Photos

(a personal journal adjoining the Richardland comedy network)