Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Ru, Ru, Rubio!
I don't know who this person is because I don't follow it like when I was a kid, but apparently there is an NBA lottery pick named "Rubio." Which reminds me of TSGT Rubio from my technical training school in the USAF post boot-camp. He was a small Billy Martin-looking guy who couldn't speak if you chopped his hands off, and throughout the weeks I got quite well-known throughout the base for my Rubio impersonation. Which, I assumed, Rubio was oblivious to.
The morning of our graduation, Rubio sternly called me up to the front of class, looking pissed. I thought he was going to kick me out, that I had somehow failed, that I was being sent back to boot camp or something crazy. I was scared shitless. What did he want?
He wanted to see my Rubio. And I brought the fucking house down.
And oh yeah - as for helping sew the very blanket of freedom you will safely sleep under tonight, you're welcome.
The morning of our graduation, Rubio sternly called me up to the front of class, looking pissed. I thought he was going to kick me out, that I had somehow failed, that I was being sent back to boot camp or something crazy. I was scared shitless. What did he want?
He wanted to see my Rubio. And I brought the fucking house down.
And oh yeah - as for helping sew the very blanket of freedom you will safely sleep under tonight, you're welcome.
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