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Rimbo

Burnt Ends
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Everything posted by Rimbo

  1. They did have gifs back then.
  2. like all good satire, I can't tell if you're joking or not
  3. or trey owens I'm getting ahead of myself
  4. i can't wait until Ewers leaves and Dia Bell becomes everyone's favorite Longhorn
  5. must be one o' them unidentified flyin' cupcakes
  6. she's a great tight ends recruiter
  7. next you'll be saying things like "But Rimbo, how good is she at coaching Tampa 2?"
  8. It's hilarious that y'all will call me stupid when y'all can't even figure out how basic analogies work. Nobody is saying that Akina LOOKS like this: Nor are they saying he looks like this: Buuuuuut y'all gotta hand-wring about EVERYTHING, don'tcha?
  9. "Uninspired?" "Retread?" That's like complaining about getting to fuck Ana de Armas if you already got to fuck her ten years ago.
  10. lol at y'all thinking Akina doesn't know how to coach 3 Thorpe winners, 6 Thorpe finalists, 41 NFL DBs including 7 Pro Bowlers.
  11. Shit, dude, Bobby isn't THAT old.
  12. I look a lot more like Jude Law, then and now, than I do Lenny Kravitz. Also, this guy clearly wasn't a local.
  13. HAHAHAno. But I did get the red pajama connection. So other than being white, having straight blonde hair, having blue eyes, being scrawny as heck, and not knowing anything about playing guitar, I could see how he and I were the spitting image of Kravitz. He was high AF and had some nice chicas with him. Was probably a safe space for a doobie. Definitely was not the question I was prepared for. I don't know how I could've been.
  14. It should surprise nobody that I could probably dominate this thread. Fast forward a couple of years; my parents are taking us on a tour of Europe that summer. We're skiing the Matterhorn in Zermatt, drinking beer in Salzburg, eating food that has paprika on everything in Budapest and finishing it off with Vienna. After some really amazing and unique hotels on the first three stops, we're going vanilla in Vienna with the downtown Marriott, but our rooms are in different parts of the hotel and different floors. Mom calls our room the night we check in to tell me to come get my ski boot bag; the cardboard box we'd carried things in was done. Now I'm in my bright red pajamas ready for bed, and my bro is in the shower. I figure there's no point in changing clothes; it's not like I'm going to be leaving the hotel and strolling downtown Vienna in my red pajamas with my ski boot bag slung over my shoulder. So, I head upstairs, go down a hall, down a hall, down a hall, down a hall... knock on my parents room, "Oh my yes, that box is done for." Grab my ski boot bag, go down a hall, down a hall, down a hall, and enter the stairway. Did you catch it? Did you see what happened? Because I sure didn't at the time. I also didn't know what "notausgang" meant yet, despite having taken a year of German (of two) at Texas. I go downstairs and find the door is locked. No problem; I'll just go back upstairs and... locked. I check every door. Other than one leading to a penthouse/office of sorts at the top, the only door open... is the emergency exit leading out of the hotel. That's what notausgang means, by the way. I sit on the steps and think. I've only got one way to go: Out the door, around to the front, and back through the lobby. I'll keep my head down and if anyone asks, I'll just say I'm lost. And I'll just hope things aren't too busy. On a busy road, at 8pm on a Saturday night, in downtown Vienna. Riiiiight. So I sling the bag over my shoulder, make sure my shiny red pajamas are buttoned up tight, and step outside. Right outside the door (I could see them before I left, the door was glass) were some similar-aged youths hanging out. One of them, a tall blond guy, asks me in a thick Southern California accent: "Are you Lenny Kravitz?" I'm white. I look up at him. "No. I'm lost." I make my way down the street, and sure enough, downtown Vienna on a summer Saturday night is PACKED. The hotel doorman didn't even flinch. I was far from the weirdest thing he'd seen. The LOBBY was packed. Not just from people going out to/coming from their evening plans, but at least one major event going on in the ballroom next to the lobby. Can I at least have the elevator to myself, NO, some man in a suit joins me. "Good evening." "Hello." I get to my floor and a full family of Indians barges on before I can get off, as a final indignity before I'm at last able to make it to my room. "Where were you?" my brother asks. "I'm not going to give you the pleasure of telling you." But almost immediately relieved that the whole thing was over, I called my parents and told THEM what happened. And they called me "Lenny" for the rest of the trip. Turns out, he WAS in town that weekend for a show. Took a photo posing by a concert ad we saw in an underground mall the next day.
  15. Around that same time... freshman year... I had a massive course load my first semester. My parents were in town for football and, being loaded, were staying at the Four Seasons. So I head down there on Friday, and between the course load, my first semester away from home, etc I'm just zonked. Talking to myself, getting lost in places I'm familiar with, just stressed beyond silliness. I park my car in the garage, head to the lounge to give my parents a hug, then head over to the desk to get my parking validation as a guest of a guest (don't know if they still are, but they were really cool about it then). Now, my intention was to go back to my car to put the validated ticket in it, but being out of it, I find myself standing by the room elevators instead of the garage elevators. This is not the embarrassing thing yet. I realize my mistake, and wander over to the garage elevators. As I pass by the concierge desk, I tell a guy sitting there, "Now THIS is the right elevator." So I head over to them and hit the call button, and while I'm waiting, a thought finally makes its way through the muck of my exhausted brain: That guy looked like Eric Clapton. I take a quick peek again as I step onto the elevator. Well, whaddya know. Eric Clapton. He didn't seem very pleased. Granted, this was mere months after his son died, and he was in town for an honorary concert for SRV's death just a year prior, so you wouldn't expect him to be in the best of sorts to begin with, to say nothing of some dumb teen randomly bothering him at the fucking Four Seasons with some random out of context bullshit.
  16. I once told the guys at Id Software that their games with actually good gameplay like Commander Keen were better than their tech demos like Wolfenstein 3D. Thanks to Google dropping support for Usenet, it would seem that the Internet DOES forget some things.
  17. That's one of those times where the circumstances matter. That you apologized afterwards makes all the difference. I wouldn't worry about that one.
  18. Did you ACTUALLY just do the "I'll meet you in the parking lot and beat you up" thing? Are you twelve years old or something? Grow up and take the loss, pussy.
  19. And to be clear, Monterey's "Don't go" is not one of those "Don't go" that Austinites give to Californians, or that San Diegans give to everyone else. Really. Don't go.
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