By: Leo McCoy: The Man Who Allegedly Once Met James Van Der Beek
Howdy doo, 3.5 readers.
Leo McCoy here, still resting on my laurels because I accomplished my life’s work in the 1990s when I delivered a sandwich to that blonde God-man, James Van Der Beek. To flip the script of that sexy man’s theme song, I don’t have to wait for my life to be over, because I found out what the purpose of my life will be – to sit around and be happy that I met James until the end of my days.
FYI I used the word “sexy” in a manly way. I appreciate JVDB’s physique and want to make mine look like his but you know, that’s not gay or nothing.
Look, 3.5 yahoos, the topic du jour of this column is this – I just tried seven layer Mexican dip for the very first time and it was a bittersweet experience. Sweet because it tasted so good. Bitter because my ass exploded like the cannons in the “1812 Overture.”
I like sour cream. I like shredded cheese. I like salsa. I do not like guacamole or jalapenos so I never tried this dip before because I didn’t want to eat something I didn’t like but as it just so happened, there was some in my fridge. I don’t know how it got there. I think my old frenemy BQB left it there because he felt sorry for my supposed unemployment issues. All I can say is I don’t need your charity, nerd boy.
So I tried it. And I enjoyed it. First you get the sour cream and cheese and its like a nice texture, kinda chewy. Then you get the salsa and its hot. And honestly, I find guacamole to usually suck but when you mix it with the other stuff it’s pretty good.
Anyhow, an hour goes by. I’m content. I’m glad I tried something new, not nearly as glad as I was on that fateful day when I met the Beek from the Creek, but still, pretty happy nonetheless because I was dreaming of all the dip I’d eat.
Long story short, my ass started blowing up like a 2 dollar whore’s phone on check cashing day. Whoa nelly. Such sounds. Such smells. Was it worth it? I don’t know. It was pretty tasty and I do live alone so I suppose so.
Still, I can’t help but think that Bookshelf Q. Battler put that delicious dish into my fridge just to assault my colon. The nerve. Besides that time I tried to feed him to zombies, what did I ever do to him?
What’s your favorite James Van Der Beek memory, 3.5 readers? Discuss in a purely aesthetical, non-gay way in the comments.