Totes Rando

Last Friday I went to Floyd’s Barbershop in Santa Monica and told the stylist that she could do whatever she wanted.  While the tattoo laden stylist distracted me with an interesting conversation about the health risks involved in anal sex she managed to give me a haircut that later garnered references such as - a fighter pilot, Hitler and the guitarist from Interpol.

Later on that night, an Amazonian cougar drunkenly swaggered over to me, showed me a dinner menu and asked me if I was on it.  She was about three inches taller than me and there was a decent chance I would find a dick under her skirt, so I politely walked away.  As she attempted to grab my ass a friend with slightly lower standards gently nudged his haunches in the path of her gorilla hands and let her feel his goods.  I watched in horror as he stuck his tongue down her throat and proceeded to lift up her shirt exposing her (prosthetic?) breasts.  This wasn’t a dive bar by the way, it was a high class restaurant on Main Street - the Vatican is presently in debates to determine if it was a miracle he wasn’t promptly removed from the establishment.
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When I was growing up, I always thought Mick Jagger (and thus also the Rolling Stones) and David Bowie were weird, cheesy, and sorta gay. David Bowie did all that sexually androgynous looking stuff (and Labyrinth), and I just didn’t get his song and voice style, or should I say wasn’t really exposed it. Mick Jagger on the other hand had less reason to make the young me not like him. I think unconsciously I accepted the awesome Stones jams I heard on Oldies 103 without putting a band name to it really. But then something happened that tattooed the brand name of the Rolling Stones on my mind forever. 7th grade: My middle school had a lip sync contest and this fat annoying looking girl did “You Start Me Up”, prancing around the stage like a jackass, wearing a Stones T-shirt with the lips and tongue logo. From then on, every time I saw Mick Jagger singing and doing his dance moves all I could think was, “I hate these guys”.

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Good afternoon team, and allow me to introduce myself. I am Totes Rando. This is my blog.

You may be wondering where a name like Totes Rando came from. Well, the ladies in the sewing circles say it’s the name of a notorious Moroccan rapist, while others suggest it to be a majestic Nigerian prince from a money wiring scam. Still more tell me how great they thought I was in memorable action films such as “Gone in 60 Seconds” and “Romeo Must Die,” when in reality that was Delroy Lindo. The truth is, I am none of these things; the name’s origin is totally random.

Starting April 7th, 2008, you’ll see a new post daily by either myself or one of my extremely famous and well-to-do friends. Besides a super sweet blog pseudonym, I keep their names anonymo for protection. Let’s just say some of them rhyme with “Spitney Queers,” “Arrid Ghetto,” and “Belta Durke.”*
 
 
 
 

*I’m available to start tomorrow, MAD Magazine!