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summery? |
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Sinead O'Connor "Success Has Made a Failure of Our Home" |
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What can I say, guys, desperate times call for desperate rim-jobs to Greek store owners.
Hello, by the way. Hello, hello, howdy. I'm back in Lemont doing the painfully-boring-summer thing once again. Alright, after awhile it's just not funny that I'm visiting LHS for fun. Everyone in that school is like 14 years younger than I am. I feel like I'm in my late 50s when I come back to visit. Granted, I went back today to hang with Joanie Hamburger for awhile and then make a birdhouse for Mrs. Jacobs to live in. So that all wasn't too painful. Still, Jesus Christ, someone give Louis S. Virtel something sexy to do. I'm looking at you, MTV casting people.
Still, for the most part, I'm DYING in Lemont, using any excuse I can find to get out of the house. The kids want Burger King? Hell, I'll drive there twice! Laser is getting so much mileage out of my suburban tours... as well as replays of "SOS" by Rihanna and "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira. Already the big summer jams are overplayed, and we haven't even hit the end of spring yet. But anyway, I do have big-'n-sexy news to report, so sit back and enjoy as I recount my brush with the skanky world of MTV.
G-Lo drove me to Chicago last Thursday during what had to be the grayest day of the year. It all looked ominous, and that was scary. Fortunately, luck was definitely on our side -- because we ended up finding an inadvertent shortcut to the hotel by way of Lakeshore Drive. We were like Lewis & Clark scoping that shit out. So okay, I hug Mommy goodbye, and I trot on inside. There's this girl Siobhan who gives me paperwork to fill out, and eventually I sit and talk with her for-fucking-ever about all the other reality-TV shows she's worked on. She actually had been to Lemont, which knocked my socks off. Apparently she'll be driving through L-Town again on the way to Joliet for her next reality show -- My Fair Brady 2. It's good to know Illinois is attracting only the finest reality TV stars. Anyway, after about an hour, I finally elevator up to my interview. Inside the teency white room are Booker and Michelle, two folks I'd chatted with previously on the phone. So Jesus, the whole thing lasted about an hour and a half, and they tossed all sorts of questions at me. "What do you talk about in your stand-up comedy?" "What was coming out like for you?" "Have you ever met a gay farm boy?" "What are you obsessed with?" "What kind of people piss you off?" And all sorts of other deep, philosophical queries. Actually, it was a lot of fun -- my one concern was that I either spoke too quickly or wasn't immediately articulate enough during different segments of the interview, but other than that, I was gold. After a section where I had to interview them (to show off my sexy-journalistic interview skills), I was off. They told me my interview went great, and I feel like you don't say that to someone you're planning on not calling back. For the record, the next part of the auditions, the Finals, takes place in LA. So if I get called back, MTV will be whisking this Midwestern momma's boy all the way to Cali. Jesus Christ! Alright, I have to say, after all is said and done, this whole process freaks me out. Like... my entire life and lifestyle sort of hangs in the balance here. Granted, I'm also super fucking excited... but man, what a change of pace and, oh, EVERYTHING this show would be. It could also be a very welcome, very therapeutic departure from all things Iowa and Illinois, so that can't hurt. It might make a good story one day. Actually, it definitely will be a good story, because the producers have no choice but to make the show watchable. Yay? We will see.
I'm going to the mall with Sarah in like an hour. I'm probably going to the mall again tomorrow with my cousin Bryanna, but whatevz, this is my damn summer, and I'll dominate Orland if I want to. Again, I'm very much scrapping for things to do around here. Making money would be ideal, but... of course, that would probably require dialing up Chipain's again. Dammit, life. In better news, however, I got my final grades from Iowa, and Jesis am I a rockstar right now! Two A+'s, two A's, and a B+. Let's see, busting out the old calculator... my GPA is a fucking 3.98! I'm fucking sorry! That's 0.2 higher than any GPA I've ever gotten in Iowa! I fucking did not expect this, especially because I've had more semester hours this time around than any semester before. Then again, as the ladies always say, Louie V pulls through under pressure. Why the ladies are always saying that, your guess is as good as mine.
So this just happened: Mark came back from school and asked me if I heard him and Mom fighting this morning. I hadn't heard anything, but I guess there was a big brawl over his ACT score -- which for the record is BETTER than mine. I guess on his second ACT, he didn't do as well, and his reading score was significantly lower. I don't really know the specifics of this argument, but my parents have to be dumbfucks if they're honestly criticizing Mark for his score. First of all, though it's irrelevant, how does this make me feel? I got a 30 on my ACT, and no one really said anything to me about it. Now, Mark gets a 31 (though on the second test he scored a 29), and my parents are like, flipping shit. What, are we just expecting Louis to be the lowest scorer? I'm not even going to delve on that, but I hate that anyone would accuse Mark of, what, sabotaging his ACT? Are we retarded? That's so ridiculous. Cue the opening chords to "Perfect" by Alanis Morissette. I'll wait to make a final judgment on this situation once I hear Gloria's side of the mudslinging.
Remember when I mentioned I loved Stand By Me? How about I rented it again, and now I've seen it four times. How. about. that. I've already put the damn movie on a Louis-patented pedestal of obsession. I might buy if I see it at the mall today. I might not as well, but either way I love that movie. In my own world, River Phoenix actually continues to be a lawyer in Oregon, even though he was stabbed to death at the movie's end and he died of a drug overdose in real life. In my world, God gave River Phoenix nine lives, and he's only wasted two of them so far. Keep on being the peacekeeper, babe. See you at the Oregon County Fair.
Earlier this month I chatted with my DI buddy Charlie about summer. He mentioned how he'd love to have a summer fling with some Iowa chick, and I have to say, he might be onto something. Because I too want to have flings with Iowa chicks. Well, actually, I meant he's got a good point about summer flings. It's something to break up the humdrum routine of summer. There's probably no way the fling can really end well, seeing as you have to break it off once the schoolyear comes back. But whatever. Not that I'd know how to seek out a summer fling -- if you can believe it, my options in Lemont are pretty limited. Actually, "limited" is a fucking understatement. My options are nonexistent. Unless of course you count my inflatable blow-up of Georgia from Chipain's. In that case, my options are plastic and menopausal. Sweet!! It looks like I'm getting it on with the only boy who stays true -- that's right, Turkey Tom, I'm looking at you.
Weird but true: I'm going to my brother Jim's graduation at Marquette this weekend. It's gonna be Gloria, Lee, and I faking sanity and hitting Milwaukee hotspots for a full two days. If you see smoke signals somewhere over Wisconsin, that's me needing an escape helicopter. I'm sure I'll be glued to my iPod during the trek -- especially since I've been buying new iTunes left and right. Diana Ross' "Upside Down"? Hell yes and then some! I even bought a couple Sinead O'Connor tunes I hadn't heard... both are splendid. Also, I've been on a Sinead roll lately. It's really too bad she didn't come out with a few more excellent albums, because I'd be gobbling those up too.
Anyway, I should be heading out. Talk to you sweetheartz later, and thanks for checking in as I'm both anticipating the call from MTV and bracing myself for more summer sameness. Love you guys.
Floating around "Ghost World" yet again, xoxo,
Louis
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