It’s hard to believe, but tonight is the season finale of The CollegeHumor Show (9:30 on MTV, in case you’re just joining us). Thanks to everyone who tuned in or watched online. I hope you enjoyed watching the show as much as we enjoyed making it.
We’ll be doing another Q&A on CollegeHumor later today, so keep an eye out for that.
So. F’ing. Tired.
The dream trip is over. We are all alive. One for the books.
Time to get my unemployed on!
Now just another 4 hours till we’re actually home.
Don’t believe the hype.
- Me: Jorge, were you wasted last night?
- Jorge: No, man! Otherwise I wouldn't have driven. What do you think I am?
- Kevin: You didn't drive...
Last night was pretty damn good considering we were a couple miles away from spending the night in McCarthy’s packed car in the middle of the desert with no service on our phones and only Chips Ahoy, Oreos, a few chance York peppermint patties and some old unclaimed half-drunken Dasani bottles to nourish us, with the grim options of either waiting for another vehicle to come by to help which would surely be a person who would want to make costumes out of our skins OR walking to the nearest gas station ourselves eventually resulting in a dozen or so coyotes shitting us out next to some cactus to fry in the desert sun.
Yeah, last night was pretty good. Considering.
Some great Mexican (food and people) in this town. Kev’s ‘Los Mavs’ shirt was quite the hit (two dudes talked to him). It’s rare being a white male that you actually feel like a minority in an entire city in the United States. It was kind of cool.
Totally kept talking for like a minute after that. Told you we were in the middle of nowhere; suddenly had no service.
Rolling into El Paso momentarily.
I smell like gasoline.
Thanks hottumblrs for the reblog of my gross beard! Eat it, Kevin Begley!
A Puerto Rican named Jorge Gonzalez and an Irish guy named Kevin McCarthy.
Other people who should hop on in:
An American named John Smith.
A Chinese named Wang Lee.
A German named Hans Volkswagon.
A French named Jacque Pierre Croissant..
A Russian named Boris.
A redneck named Joe Bob.
A stripper named Bambi.
And a dog named Fido.
Gulyas does not fit in here.
- Me: How much would you guys pay for one night with one of the Mav Girls?
- Jorge: Everything. Literally everything I have.
- Me: Kev?
- Kev: Uh... Fifteen years.
Were gonna go but sounds pretty grim with a rash of animal deaths lately possibly due to old age and of course the whole Jenny the Elephant fiasco. Plus some gorilla escaped because it was only contained by a low wall that it easily jumped over and started picking people up and shaking them. So we’re not gonna go to the Dallas Zoo.
The Big D is just too colossal to be digested in a single day — even a long one. So tonight was the prologue. Expect tomorrow’s stories to be even better. We have some ideas we’re batting around. You’ll be informed as events transpire.
I got the Mixed Grill for dinner. A meal that always reminds me of Don DeLillo. Don’t ask if you don’t know. Anyhow, three animals gave their life so that I could feed: a quail, a deer and a buffalo. I had to explain to my friends that Buffalo Filet Mignon does not contain hot sauce.
There were some pretty girls out tonight. Unfortunately, in my efforts to avoid them, I happened upon a chance encounter with a sloppy cougar. She asked me if my balls were in my sweatshirt pocket while I did my best Queen’s guard impression. I was waiting in line for the bathroom. When my turn finally came, one of the first things I heard from the urinal was her drink smash on the floor. Dallas has been kind to us.
They are always the worst timing like when a hot waitress is walking towards our table or when I’m brushing my teeth. These babies have range, too. On our flight from Cali to CT a little kid got blamed for Jorge’s fart and he was sitting on the exact opposite side of the plane.
I shit you not.