Faith, Or The Opposite Of Pride

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Location: Home.
Listening: Sirens near the beach.

An email that I just sent to a mailing list that I'm on, submitted for your amusement:

Oddly enough, my brother just called.

He's in a bar in Auburn, AL right now and wanted to let me know that someone we all know from the '90's was onstage...

I'll give you one clue.

Ice. Ice, baby.

Oh yes. My brother stumbled onto a Vanilla Ice concert.

Apparently, his new stuff is "a mix of metal and ...some kind of...rap. My God, this is mesmerizing".

And he did apparently say "Word to your mother" at the close of the evening.

No encores, though. "Vanilla Ice is a prima donna. Word to your mother, bitch." quoth my very drunk brother.

So yes, "The Iceman" as he is affectionately (?) known is alive, well, and touring colleges in the South. Unfortunately, Scott didn't get to ask him what happened to those backup dancers with VIP (Vanilla Ice Posse) tattooed on their ankles, although he tried to get to the front to do so.

He's a good kid.

When I thanked him for calling me for my birthday, he responded:

"Shit! It's the 22nd? *pause* My watch still says it's the 17th...what the fuck?"
"How old am I Scott?"
"Twenty-five?"
"Twenty-six."
"...damn..."
"You're 23. I was born three years before you."
"I don't know that! Now how am I supposed to know that?"

Interned for Frist (R-Tennessee) on "the Hill" for two summers in a row. God help us all. Granted, he had had about seven Jack sours, but still.

I love my family.




	Faith, Or The Opposite Of Pride + the mizu chronicles + Home Get Email Updates + the crossword with a pen + god, who painted that + let the man go through + in this white wave + and his hair was perfect + life in a northern town + dona nobis pacem + hand me my leather + i believe in peace, bitch + any kind of touch Tori Amos Over The Rhine Cowboy Junkies Strangers In Paradise Email Me Admin Password Remember Me 15625 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2002-03-22 12:06 AM Stop. Collaborate And Listen. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Mood: Bemused ================================================== Location: Home. Listening: Sirens near the beach. An email that I just sent to a mailing list that I'm on, submitted for your amusement: Oddly enough, my brother just called. He's in a bar in Auburn, AL right now and wanted to let me know that someone we all know from the '90's was onstage... I'll give you one clue. Ice. Ice, baby. Oh yes. My brother stumbled onto a Vanilla Ice concert. Apparently, his new stuff is "a mix of metal and ...some kind of...rap. My God, this is mesmerizing". And he did apparently say "Word to your mother" at the close of the evening. No encores, though. "Vanilla Ice is a prima donna. Word to your mother, bitch." quoth my very drunk brother. So yes, "The Iceman" as he is affectionately (?) known is alive, well, and touring colleges in the South. Unfortunately, Scott didn't get to ask him what happened to those backup dancers with VIP (Vanilla Ice Posse) tattooed on their ankles, although he tried to get to the front to do so. He's a good kid. When I thanked him for calling me for my birthday, he responded: "Shit! It's the 22nd? pause My watch still says it's the 17th...what the fuck?" "How old am I Scott?" "Twenty-five?" "Twenty-six." "...damn..." "You're 23. I was born three years before you." "I don't know that! Now how am I supposed to know that?" Interned for Frist (R-Tennessee) on "the Hill" for two summers in a row. God help us all. Granted, he had had about seven Jack sours, but still. I love my family. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top