Tuesday, December 13, 2005

PARTY ALERT!

I'll be hosting a New Year's Party this year… in my pants.

That's right. Another legendary event thrown by yours truly. If you want to see how the Barnacle gets down (or you just want to get down my pants), click on the link below:

Party Evite

GET PSYCHED 2006

We all know New Year's is an enormous, steaming pile of disappointment. A full year's worth of failed expectations and fizzled dreams wiped clear to make room for 365 more days of failed expectations and fizzled dreams. This year? New strategy: Release my annual "Get Psyched" mix early. People say a good mix should rise and fall, but I disagree: a truly awesome mix should be all rise. Experience Get Psyched 2006 - the perfect antidote for the craptitude that is New Year's Eve. You're welcome.

PLAYLIST

1) YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME - Jonathan B. Jovi
2) THE HUMPTY DANCE - Digital Underground
3) COME SAIL AWAY - Stix
4) DON'T STOP BELIEVIN' - Journey
5) THE TRANSFORMERS THEME SONG - O. Prime
6) YOU'RE THE BEST AROUND - Joe Esposito
7) HIGH ENOUGH - Damn Yankees
8) JESSIE'S GIRL - Rick Springfield
9) ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE - The Scorpions
10) HIP HOP HOORAY - Naughty by Nature
11) CHANGE OF HEART - Tom Petty
12) RUN AWAY - Slade

A TERM IS CONCEIVED

And, thankfully, nothing else.

Narrow escape the other night-I let a real piece of work take me back to her apartment and was lucky that my 200 to 500 million boys and I were able to escape alive, if you catch my drift. Besides being a crowd-pleasing triumph of the human spirit, this story effectively illustrates how those pithy Barney-isms make the journey from my brain to my blog to the cutting edge of the vernacular. Terms in bold are defined in a glossary below, for those of you who, as I recommend, are keeping current with my bon mots by making flashcards at home.

Anyway, I was at MacLaren's about to dot the i with a cutlet when she suddenly bailed, citing an "early meeting she'd forgotten about." Justifiably concerned that my twenty-minute investment in said cutlet was for naught, I refocused on her friend, a serviceable donut if ever there were one. With the dodgy sudden death hour drawing perilously near, I dialed up the Barnattractiveness ten percent and scored an invitation back to her apartment, to which I immediately RSVP'd, "Yo."

Bad idea jeans. After she adjourned to her bedroom to slip into something suitably slutty, I initiated my traditional CSI scan for psycho contraband and/or evidence of her Michelle Guiterrez. What I found scared me to the bone… yes, the bone.

Cleverly tucked away behind some plumbing under her bathroom sink I discovered a container of baby wipes - moist towelettes designed to wipe babies. As if that weren't enough, at the bottom of a trunk hidden in the back of her storage closet, I unearthed a 2004 desk calendar featuring pictures of puppies… dog babies.

At that moment it dawned on me just how masterfully I had been played. This chick had obviously spotted me from afar, made note of my genetic desirability and blinding virility, and then spent several weeks hatching an elaborate machination to ensnare my zygotes. The plan? Observe my patterns and preferences in chicks, then parade her much hotter friend in front of me for a full twenty minutes before pullin' chute, practically forcing me to accept the parting gift - a psychotic dragon-witch breeder chick.

Clearly, there would be no end to her treachery, and to avoid an evening of cooing and crafty contraceptive slip-screens, I had only one choice: enact a twofold escape plan. Fold #1) create a diversion through a toilet clog, freeing me to execute Fold #2) a hasty descent from her third-floor walk-up via Whitney ladder.

A narrow escape, indeed. A narrow escape from a new chick maneuver... hereby christened the Jenny Eggleseed.

GLOSSARY

Bon Mots - From the French, literally "the awesome words coined by Barney"

Dot the I - To close the deal with a cutlet you've been working.

Cutlet - A juicy, flavorful morsel one can enjoy with a glass of Merlot.

Donut - A last resort hook-up appropriate for a quick jaunt, but you really don't want to ride around on for too long. Really just for emergencies.

Sudden Death - The moment at the end of the night when the bartender flips on the lights, thereby forcing you to face the true charms, or lack thereof, of whatever donut you've grabbed at the ass-end of the evening. Deadly to the mojo.

CSI - Crazy Scary Investigation. It's important to weed out the crazies and scaries before you investigate them further. Yeah.

Michelle Guiterrez - An unfortunate trait or habit that will bother you beyond endurance, rendering further contact with said cutlet impossible and turning up in your nightmares for weeks to follow. If said trait manifests itself within the first five minutes of an encounter one can, of course, invoke the Lemon Law.

Pullin' Chute - To abort a romantic initiation. The opposite of dotting the i.

Whitney Ladder - A crude escape ladder fashioned out of clothing or bedding from Whitney's wretched second-floor apartment, or more broadly the apartment of any girl, once it becomes clear that a horrible mistake has been made.

Jenny Eggleseed - A dastardly but strategically admirable plot in which the DNA of a genetically-exemplary gentleman is captured through a late-night bait-and-switch plot involving one's more attractive friend in order to pass said DNA along to future generations.

Wednesday, December 7, 2005

BARNEY'S MAIL "SACK"

Barney,

My friends and I are in a debate about what kind of suit works best for reelin' in the ladies. I say a pin-striped, double-breasted three-piece suit is unbeatable, but my buddy says that an understated, basic black, four-button suit is key. Alas, my other friend says he gets the most chicks in his birthday suit. Being the Master of Suiting Up, could you please end this tiff?

Suitless in Saskatchewan

Dear Suitless,

It warms my heart to know a group of fine gentlemen like yourselves are having a meaningful, spirited debate over the single most critical issue facing America today: the suit. It was to protect just this sort of discourse that our Founding Fathers invented freedom. The suit is not just a fashion statement; it's a way of life. In that regard, really all suits are three-piece; beautiful fabric that adorns and protects not just the body, but the mind and the soul as well. Your excellent choice, the pinstriped, double-breasted three-piece, will raise many key questions with the sexies, e.g. who is this devilish rake? Whatever does he do? How can I possibly keep my clothes on standing next to such an impressive collection of woven threads and masculinity? Pinstripes are always a winner and usually a closer. On the other hand, your buddy's selection was no less breathtaking: the understated, basic black four-button. This classic didn't become the peanut butter and jelly of suits by accident. It's a time-tested sex magnet that instantly turns a donkey into a champion thoroughbred. So now, for today's moral: when choosing a suit, it's not the basic black or the pins that make the man, it's the tailoring. I've said it in this space before: Chicks love money. No matter what cut or cloth, your perfectly-tailored suit makes the statement that it is the most expensive suit it can possibly be. If you can get your tailor to sew fifty-dollar bills right into the lining, do it. Because if you do, I guarantee you'll end up in the most important suit of all: your birthday suit.

- The Barnacle