The other night I went to my buddy Evan's house and stood around as my friends played beer pong. There was a show at The Dial and some other concert at a wine bar that Skylar's brother was playing music at too, but it was also the Saturday night before St. Patty's. We already knew there was a DUI checkpoint on Ynez (and another one materialized on Jefferson later) so it was probably best for us not to be driving all around to places that require main roads.
Later on in the night I went outside while everyone else was smoking cigarettes because they have this gigantic $200 glass bong I would never buy myself. Mark and I got to shooting the shit and the conversation quickly progressed into an engulfing portion of the night. He had something he just HAD to get off his chest. It was like he was brimming at the edge to tell me this and at first it was difficult to even say the words because he was so excited.
The other day at America's Tires they got a new client, and his name is Pat Butt.
I'm gonna stop right there and give you all some context:
Mark was my nextdoor neighbor when we were growing up and in many ways we're both still kids. Some of you may remember him as the OG drummer for The Gravitys. Sometimes/most of the time our conversations devolve into incomprehensibly childish rants that we will both readily admit are over-the-top stupid as well as fundamentally entertaining.
His sense of humor is gleefully, obstinately, unchangingly juvenile. Toilet humor without any sense of decency or grace. He has a particular fondness for jokes about butts and poop (go for it, Freud) so as soon as he told me that name, I already knew:
Pat Butt is one of the greatest things in Mark's life right now.
He said that he got Mr. Butt's order form for some tires or whatever, and he didn't say a word he just turned around and went into the garage to find Adam to share this newfound golden treasure. It's even spelled B-U-T-T, there's not an E at the end like the city, it's so much funnier that way.
They don't even really have anything much to deal with on this poor bastard's account but his name is goddamn Pat Butt. Mr. Butt. This is a tire place you think the entire garage isn't gonna be clowning on that? This guy has probably had a pretty difficult time with that name his whole life. That's for a different blog.
His wife's name is Bobbi Butt, which is fun phonetically too.
So for the last week or so, all day in there I guess it's all "I'll be right back, gotta deal with that whole Butt situation," and "those Butts, I swear, they're gonna bring this place to its knees" and other Butt-as a person riffs.
For a person who almost/did get expelled (I'm not even sure) for being an unruly teacher-hating bastard who refused to put together paragraphs if there was a gun to his head, Mark's ability to put together very appropriate double entendres on the spot is uncanny. He's a real master of his craft and he's helped me grow in that respect over the years but I still kinda have to think about ones like I wrote above. I can't even emulate that kind of ridiculousness, its a level beyond.
A few days after Mr. Butt came in, proof that there is true greatness in this dark world was manifested unto America's Tires because a man named Peter Wang came into the shop, in need. Admittedly, Wang is is a much more common name so the hilarity has waned significantly since elementary school (shit I went to UC Irvine), but this guy is named Peter as well and if you think there aren't fresh new ways to use a Wang, that Butt really gives you a new avenue.
(You see what I mean about Mark's influence?? -- it's incalculable. Here's one I put some time into but I still don't think its all the way there -- "I feel different about Pat Butt depending on who I'm with. With some people, I dont know, the whole approach, its inappropriate")
After exhausting a wide slew of Butt-Wang combinations and sharing some hearty guffahs, I came upon a revelation: The existence of a Pat Butt entails an entire lineage of Butts. A Butt ancestry. Butts who fought in the Civil War.
Mark's eyes lit up like his world was given a new light; the floodgates were reopened, there was still so much more joy to be had with this ever-giving gift he has been given. It's like a little nerdy kid learning about the extended Star Wars universe. I just hope Mark has more quality work come out of this whole Butt excursion.
I do want to emphasize that both of us are 25-year-old "adults" who spent a significant portion of their Saturday night in a backyard smoking weed and giggling about Farrelly-level butt jokes.
Some things will never change
Overall the whole night was pitted, I didnt play any pong because I am notoriously bad and my partners always get pissed at me. They have the best dogs and they got some badass new boat from like the late 60s that I guess just HAULS. I don't wanna fish but I do wanna go mob around in that thing.
As has become standard, Sarah finally pulled her eyes out of the constant roll they had been in and drove us home as we continued to speculate on different ways this whole Butt situation can further benefit our happiness.
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