I just found this. In case you haven't been watching my every Tweet, blog, and step, I've relocated to the ROK—The Republic of Korea—for at least one year. But I needed to do some shit in America first. Here is my American Bucket List.
1. Go to a Baseball Game with My Brothers
My girlfriends have always had natural cans. Which is cool, but I wanted something fake. Just how I like Kraft American Singles more than real cheese.I lived literally four blocks away from Coors Field, home of the Colorado Rockies. And somehow I managed to miss every single baseball game for an entire half of the summer. Mo eff. I suck.
RESULT: Big heaping bucket of FAIL.
2. Touch Up My Tattoos
There's a hefty amount of ink work under my shirt, in my pants and hidden across my body. After a while tattoos need to be touched up, reworked, or just added onto. I managed to show up, get one touched up and another one added. Then it was too hot so we gave up. Then my artist's kid got sick, so we needed to cancel.
RESULT: The bucket was half full. Or half empty.
3. Run the Bolder Boulder
I don't really compete in anything any more. I swim one or two swim meets a year. I don't wrestle any more. I rarely even play drinking games. But I really enjoy the Bolder Boulder 10K road race. It's just one of my things.
This year, I ran a personal best, didn't almost crap my pants like last year and beat my boss by 11 minutes. Yay!
RESULT: Kicked that bucket from North Boulder all the way to Folsom Field. Sucka!
4. Eat Rocky Mountain Oysters
I know they're not really oysters. I know they're really bull testicles. While most of my friends thought, "Why the fuck would you want to do that to yourself? Voluntarily?" I figured, "Why the fuck not?"
So we hit one of my favorite bars of all time, The Rocky Flats Lounge (literally, across the street from where they used to make nuclear bomb triggers). I ordered a serving and the waitress didn't even snicker, which was kind of disappointing. Then they came. Rocky Mountain Oysters don't come like two giant meatballs. They're sliced like deli meat (cue males grabbing nuts and saying "Ooooouch!"), deep-fried, chewy, and nothing special tasting. I kind of thought they would be, ahem, and juicer. But they were basically the texture of a football cut into slits and deep-fried. Something I guess you have to do once.
RESULT: Ate the entire bucket of balls.
5. Drive a Harley Davidson
My best friend coworker at my bar was a Jamaican with a Harley he never drove. There are tons of Harley dealerships in Colorado. I had free time, yet I could never scramble the leather pants and handlebar mustache to get on a real hog and ride.
RESULT: A loud rumbling kick in the buckets.
6. Visit the Commerce City Dog Track
I'm not really a gambler, but I really dig being around degenerates. So I figured, what's better than the Commerce City Dog Track? I mean, if you've ever been to the Denver Airport, you've probably driven through Commerce City, one of the worst smelling cities I have ever experienced. And I've been to NYC; Sioux City, Iowa; and Greeley, Colorado. It's like they're constantly either burning tires or dropping mothball fumes into the air.
But, again, I couldn't figure out how to get to the dog track, and rumor is it's closed. And the neighborhood was populated by the baddest assed of all Mexican Vatos in Denver.
RESULT: A yowling bucket of failure.
7. Watch Every Frisky Dingo with Snacks and, Um, Special Smoke Stuff
So my brothers and I failed to enjoy America's pastime. But, we didn't fail to get high, eat ten pounds of candy, and watch every episode of the incredibly underrated, quote-worthy cartoon Frisky Dingo, predecessor of the popular Archer cartoon and follow-up to Sealab 2021. We laughed at the perfidious Xander Crews and all his stupid shit. We chuckled at Killface's attempts to destroy the world and raise a son. We cackled at Wendell and his antics. In truth, with the amount of pot we smoked, I was still laughing two days later when a stoplight turned green.
RESULT: We filled that bucket with a bunch of "BOOSH!" Then kicked it. "KIK-KOW!"
8. Bang a Latin or a Black Girl
You'd think working in a club, I'd have easy access to Latin and black girls. I took Asian girls off the list, because, well, I'm moving to Asia (and I've had my Yellow Card for about ten years now). But the fact is, black girls see right through me and Latin girls just weren't around. And, in truth, I was working on something else.
RESULT: A heaping melting pot (or bucket) of FAIL.
9. Play with Fake Boobs
This has haunted me. My girlfriends, God bless ‘em, have always had natural cans. Some had hooters and some had mosquito bites, but all of them were real. Which is cool and all, but I wanted something fake. Just how I like Kraft American Singles more than real cheese—sometimes I just want something processed and totally made of plastic.
So instead of a Latin or a Black girl, I was much more interested in banging a girl with fake boobs. And looking at her fake boobs. And playing with her delicious fake boobs. And taking photos. And telling my friends. Blogging about it. Thinking about it on cold, lonely nights. I wanted this so much, I passed on a ton of sweet-assed Latin culos. I found my target. I didn't go in with cheesy lines. I didn't treat her like a one-night stand. We actually bonded, talked, and found out we had a lot in common. Except our views on casual sex.
HER: But, I don't think I can have sex with you.
KC: Whaaaaa? Why?
HER: Because you're moving.
KC: Exactly. We may never get the chance to do it again. So we should probably do it twice tonight.
HER: But I may never see you again.
KC: Exactly!
HER: But we've bonded. I want to be able to talk to you later.
KC: But what will we have to talk about, if not about the great five times we had sex tonight.
HER: Ugh, this would have been so much easier if you were just a douchebag who came up to me with a line.
So, you can probably guess what happened.
RESULT: Two perfectly formed buckets filled with silicone…and FAIL.
10. Bang in the Library
Ugh, this one was actually on my Undergrad Bucket List. NYU has an amazing library with tons of nooks and crannies. I studied all the time, sometimes even with girls. But alas. I only studied with girls.
Then a second chance appeared when I attended grad school at University of Colorado. The sluttiest girls in the world and a huge library… that I never banged in. Then it was off to NYC and their public library… but there were too many homeless people jacking off to free porn. Again, I moved back to Colorado and enjoyed the Denver Public Library system. I read so much I returned day after day, picking up new books and dropping off old tomes. Yet again, history repeated itself.
So like my past self and forefathers, I never banged in the library.
RESULT: An Incredibly Well-Read Bucket of Fail. Maybe I can bang with a Kindle or iPad nearby. That is, if I ever get one.
11. Have a Half-Assed Going Away Party
I've had a going away party about once every two years. Sure all my friends were there, I drank a lot, made a speech, took photos, but really…who gives a fuck if you aren't banging a Latin girl, black girl, or a girl with gorgeous, gigantic and appetizing fake tits.
RESULT: A bucket of success, but big fucking deal.