The most epic g chat I ever had, or, What Bret Farve should have done with in retirement

18Mar09

I had this chat with my wonderful friend Megan a few months ago, when Bret Farve came out of retirement.  I was reminded of it today, when I saw someone wearing a Farve jersey.  This is incontrovertible proof that Megan and I really know how to take a joke, beat it into the ground, and somehow make it funny again (to the two of us at least) just so we can kill it a few more times:

Megan: The NFL comissioner is making the Packers take Favre back

me:Yeah, I heard that on NPR

Yawn

Megan: But they’re refusing to start him

me: I think that he shouldn’t be allowed back

Megan: me too

fucking retire and volunteer at a local soup kitchen or something

me: For realz

Dionne Sanders did it.

Megan: My parent’s are retired . . . and you don’t see them demanding to be given their old jobs back.

Do you?

Stupid Favre!

me: Spend some time with your goddamned family, you baby

Megan: Take a motherfucking vacation!

Drink some booze out of a coconut!

me: Wear a big fluffy white bathrobe!

Megan: Answer the door with it hangin wide open and scare the UPS lady!

me: Get into an epic fight with your neighbors!

Megan: Wear pink foam rollers in your hair to the grocery store.

me: Spend a few hours trying to decide where to position your hydrangea bush

Megan: Catch up on the last season of Entourage and embrace your man-crush on Jeremy Piven.

me: Start a blog which you only make three postings to

Megan: Buy a miniature dog breed and dress it up in cute outfits.

Then get matching outfits and stroll the sidewalk together in order to show that you and Miss Fluffington are BFF4EVA.

me: Fall asleep at seven pm watching the Deadliest Catch

Megan: Design a line of eco-friendly handbags.

For men.

me: Try to read ‘The Sound and the Fury’ several times before giving up

Megan: After you’ve given up on Faulkner, read every Oprah’s Book Club selection from 2002-2007.

Cry.

me: Try to refine your palate for wine and cheese

Megan: Plant a vineyard in Northern Wisconsin and attempt to create Ice Wine.

me: Pretend to care about refugees, starving children, exploited poor people, and the disadvantaged.

Megan: Begin a lengthy correspondence with Bono in an attempt to understand how exactly one can single-handedly save the third world from debt.

me: Learn how to fold a fitted sheet

Megan: Develop a line of celebrity marinades names after your favorite plays . . . “Hail Mary Marsala”

all the proceeds will benefit the Boys and Girls Clubs of America.

me: Volunteer at NPR answering phones during the fund drive

Megan: During NPR Fund drives, set up a matching fund in order to make sure stinking liberals know that you care.

That you care DEEPLY.

me: Secretly start a collection of gay German pornography from the 60’s. If anyone finds out, insist that it is ART

Megan: Take an interest in the music your kids are listening to . . . then develop a fanatical obsession with the works of Miley Cyrus. Insist to anyone that will listen that she is a musical genius.

me: Look into time travel

Megan: At church on Sunday realize that your career may be over, but that you are truly one of the greatest Catholic football players to ever live. Look into being canonized.

me: Start breeding varieties of roses and pansies and name them after your favorite ex-teammates.

Megan: Ask Farrelly Brother’s if they will make another film in which you can appear in, say . . . . There’s Really Something About that Mary!

me: Save a group of inner-city youths from entering into a life of crime through dance!

Megan: Consider whether or not you have the right stuff. Call NASA and tell them that you’d like to throw a spiral in space.

me: Master the gyroball and try out for major league baseball. If you fail, become the leader of a small socialist country

Megan: Divorce your wife and start dating on of Hugh Hefner’s cast-offs.

me: Become the spokesman for an obscure conspiracy group

Megan: Pose naked for PETA, then get caught eating a rare steak at the Texas Roadhouse.

Deny, deny, deny.

me: Prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Montauck Monster is really a hell hound.

And then insist that everyone call you Mulder

Megan: Call, email, write and generally annoy Gillian Anderson with requests to be “your Scully” until she calls the cops and tells them that you’re a stalker nutjob.

Deny, deny, deny.

Go to the hospital for ‘exhaustion’.

me: Reinvent the wheel. You’re

Brett Farve, goddamnit! You can do anything

Megan: Convince everyone that Pluto REALLY IS the 9th planet.

me: Fly a kite

Megan: Adopt kittens. Give them precious names. Then drown them in Mike Ditka’s swimming pool. Alert the media. Bask in sympathy.

me: Figure out how to save social security

Megan: Ditch Playboy Bunny girlfriend and contemplate going gay for Barack Obama.

me: When you receive word that the Catholic Church is not going to canonize you, look into becoming a priest in the Church of Satan

Megan: Once you have become high priest of the Church of Satan change the robes from Black to Green & Gold.

me: And the hoods to cheese hats

Megan: With devil horns.

me: Join facebook and start stalking Dionne Sanders

Dion?

Megan: Dionne Warwick.

Dion Sanders.

me: Thanks

Learn how to smile with your eyes

Megan: Figure out how not to look so old, when you’re only 39.

me: Deep condition your hair

Megan: Get a mani/pedi with P Diddy.

me: Declare ‘no homo’ before your naked sauna romp with Dennis Rodman

(Hey Brett, seriously, don’t forget to declare no homo, or else it counts)

Megan: Even though you remember to declare ‘no homo’, US Weekly get a hold of the pictures, including the one showing off your matching tattoos and before you know it everyone is thinking you’re gay for the Rod-man.

me: So you need to sign yourself up for one of those gay-cleansing camps, where they cure people like you

But don’t bunk with Ted Haggard

Megan: After you’re SAVED, start dating the barely legal Miley Cyrus. But under no circumstances allow her father to talk you into either a reality show about your marriage or into growing a strange matching goatee.

Also, flat ironing your hair is not a good idea. Dude, you’re pushing 40.

me: Write a book about your experience in the gay camps.

Dude, flat ironing your hair is totally gay

Megan: Dedicate the book to “My beautiful supportive wife, Miley.”

“Without her love . . . there is no music.”

me: Put any lingering suspicion of your sexuality to rest by getting her pregnant

Megan: With twin boys.

me: And naming your children after random household objects

Spork

Megan: Toaster

me: Mop

Megan: After Miley delivers little Spork Jesus Favre and Toaster Mop Favre into the world, insist you’re never been so happy.

As if, you’d never had children before.

You did, but they were girls.

me: So they don’t count

Megan: CLEARLY!

me: Tell the media to eff off when they speculate that the children aren’t yours, insist that they’re not half Mexican, they’re just really really tan

Megan: Start getting spray tanned and insist that you’re always looked that way.

Fire entire landscaping staff.

And pool boy.

me: But slip the pool boy your personal email address

He’s pretty hot

No homo

Megan: Invite Juan and Dennis over for a pool party when Miley bring Toaster and Spork to visit her parents.

Become a contestant on Shear Genius . . . because anyone can cut/style hair. Right?

No homo.

me: Try to bribe congress with signed footballs into making the airspace over your house a no-fly-zone, so that aerial photographers can’t photograph Juan smearing baby-oil over Dennis’s rock-hard abs.

Megan: When Congress refuses to establish a no fly zone, move the party to your newly acquired private island.

Explain to Miley that she can’t visit because it’s your “Man Place.”

me: Declare yourself the official bikini inspector, make Dennis try on his entire bikini collection for you

Megan: Buy a bikini collection for Juan so that he doesn’t cry.

He hates when you play favorites.

me: Try to convince Cam Neely to join you guys, but he just won’t do it. (It’s not you, Brett, it’s Cam. He’s from Boston.)

Megan: Get bored with Bikini Island and head to Europe to get some perspective. Visit the Louvre and stand in front of the Mona Lisa for several hours.

me: Try to trick her into NOT looking at you

Megan: After failing to get the Mona Lisa to look away, take a stroll along the Seine. Buy a baguette and a beret. Hey, you want to look authentic, right?

me: While in France, meditate on what it means to be a ‘real American,’ but get Hulk Hogan’s entrance song stuck in your head instead.

Megan: When France fails to give you the answers to all your BIG questions, head to Spain to take in some bull fighting and tapas.

While in Spain, realize you like to wear tight pants.

me: It reminds you of your glory days in the NFL

When you used to be a role model

Megan: Determine to figure out how to become a role model once more.

Ask Miley to help you write a hit pop song.

me: About important stuff

Like abstinence

Megan: Because you’re getting bored with the songwriting process, begin to insist that your house is haunted. Call in the TAPS team to investigate. Get really excited that you’re going to be on Ghost Hunters.

Then write song about ghosts abstaining from life . . .and therefore sexual activity.

Win a Grammy.

And an MTV Cool Dude of the Year award.

me: Avoid having to explain what that song is about. Turn to Carly Simon for advice in keeping a secret about the meaning of a song.

Megan: Decide that you want to discover something, like gravity or a new planet.

Or at the very least have something named after you.

me: Buy a chemistry set from a mail-order catalouge

Megan: Get in a fight with Miley when she tries to give it to Toaster and Spork . . . it’s SCIENCE!, Miley. Not a toy!

me: Remodel the basement into your laboratory. Put up a ‘No Girls Allowed’ sign on the door.

Megan: Tell Juan that he and Dennis can stop by . . . but no bikinis allowed. This is science time.

me: You start developing a sensitivity to light after spending so many hours in the lab

Megan: And you have to buy a tanning bed so that people don’t think you’re an 80-year-old albino.

me: You start wearing dark sunglasses at all times

Megan: Which prompts TMZ to post photos of you on their website while playing the Corey Hart song in the background.

me: You shy away from the press, making little Spork and Toaster wear masks

Megan: Sometimes you wonder, “Am I becoming Michael Jackson?”

me: This question weighs heavily on you…

Michael Jackson is pretty creepy

But you can’t deny that he had some hits

Megan: Especially Thriller . . . that dance is awesome.

And that one, The Girl is Mine with Paul McCartney.

me: There’s that other song, the one that goes:

something something

yeah

something

ba-dah-ba

you know that one?

Megan: mah na na na na na na

oogie boogie boo

me: I think that’s the same one.

Megan: Woooh!

me: What a hit!

It sure puts that little ditty about ghost abstinence of yours to shame

ditty

Megan: Now you want to write a song that has a cool dance.

A zombie dance!

me: You ask Miley for help

But are shocked to see that she’s grown older

Megan: But she obviously knows a thing or two about zombies. . . since she’s cheating on you with Christopher Walken.

He volunteers to help you choreograph a sick dance for your new video as long as you promise to divorce Miley.

You agree . . . the dude is scary! And he’s worked on Broadway as an actual dancer.

me: Plus, he’s pretty funny. And you know how crazy the press is about divorced couples who get along!

Megan: You divorce Miley and Chris Walken moves in. You move into your basement lab full time. Except for Sunday night family dinners.

Megan: And you wonder, damn not only was I the best QB ever to play the game, but my life since has been pretty fucking neat. So you plan the first volume of your autobiography.

me: You recruit a cadre of professional writers to help you out

Like Stephen King and Dave Eggars

Megan: And eventually, Stephen King finishes his newest book “How I Kidnapped and Murdered Mary-Kate Olsen” and agrees to ghost write your memoirs.

me: You’re confused by the fact, though, that Stephen King insists on you calling him “Little Caesar”

But you roll with it, since he’s pretty cool and you’re a little scared of him

Megan: But, you agree to call him anything he wants, since HIKAMMKO: The Elizabeth Haranas Story won several prestigious awards.

me: HIKAMMKO?

Megan: “How I Kidnapped and Murdered Mary-Kate Olsen”

obviously

me: Oh,

sorry

So you and Little Caesar start hanging out at his pad in Bangor, Maine

Megan: With a strange photographer friend of his, who insists on chain smoking in the nude.

You are unsure of which of these men scares you the most.

me: But you continue to work with them, since you’re Brett Farve goddamn it, and you’re not scared of nuthin’!

Megan: Well, the only thing you’re scared of . . . is the possibility that a rabid animal will break into “Little Caesar’s log cabin and bite your neck.

But, other than that you ain’t scared of nothin’.

me: Little Caesar refuses to show you any of his notes and drafts, and you begin to grow suspicious of the whole thing

Megan: Especially when he insists that you rub yourself with shea butter lotion twice a day.

me: You realize things are pretty bad when you uncover a stack of human bones in LC’s closet.

Megan: “But,” you think to yourself, “Christopher Walken could totally kick Little Caesar’s ass in a fight. And he’s sort of my friend . . . since he married my ex-wife.”

me: Walken was pretty badass.

And so you get Walkin to fight LC

Which promptly causes LC to lose whatever marbles he has left

Since Walken starred in ‘the Dead Zone’ movie

Megan: And The Prophecy . . .

me: LC thinks that his creations are coming alive to kill him

Megan: in which he can set people on fire by pointing at them.

me: You and Walken share a good laugh over the corpse of your former biographer

Megan: However, this leaves you in a bind . . .

since you’re not quite smart enough to write your own book.

me: And you just killed off a major author

Megan: Well, actually Christopher Walken killed him.

But, you’re still slightly fucked.

me: Yeah, you’re definitely sort of fucked.

Megan: So you and Christopher Walken decide to leave the country and go hang out in Cuba with Fidel.

That dude always has great cigars.

me: And the senoritas are muy caliente down there

Megan: Which is awesome, since you are TOTALLY not a homo anymore.

me: You did go to straight dude camp for quite some time, after all

Which ALWAYS cures homosexuality

Megan: ALWAYS

me: For sure

Megan: While you’re in Cuba with CW and Fidel

you remeber the invention that you were working on in your basement lab

a biochemical agent!

me: Which you left with your two young sons, Spork and Toaster!

Megan: Fidel, admits, that he is quite interested in your brilliant discovery.

me: But you need to figure out how to get it out of the hands of Toaster, who you suspect might be an evil genius

So you and Fidel and Christopher Walken put your heads together to make a plan

Megan: AN EVIL PLAN.

me: The three of you conspire to lure your young son to Cuba

Megan: Most likely using a muy caliente senorita as bait.

me: that was epic friend!

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