It is surprising that on a tanker full of weapons sailing through waters notoriously plagued by pirate attacks, no one thought it would be appropriate to keep an RPG launcher or two handy just in case.  More surprising is the pirates’ ability to seize the vessel because in  looking at it, it seems as though a bebe gun or medium-sized stones would have inflicted significant damage to their ships, which appear to be paddle boats stolen from the San Diego Harbor, and caused them to reconsider.

Shortly after the hijacking, the US and Russia scrambled ships to aid the Faina which the US Navy quickly cornered in a rocky segment along the Somali coastline. The Russian ships were distracted by a cover of “Dancing Queen”emanating from the band in the captain’s lounge on a passing Carnival Cruise liner, and are still somewhere at sea. Once the ordeal concludes, Fox News will be chronicling America’s arrival on the scene before Russia in an hour long docu-drama entitled “A Day For Heroes.” The docu-drama will be based around the now emerging evidence that the arms were headed for Kenya on paper but may have ultimately been destined for southern Sudan as part of an illicit weapons deal. To make it fair and balanced though, they will portray the arms deal as being orchestrated by Barack Obama and the lead pirate will be Ted Kennedy.

The U.S. Navy has been allowed to check on the crew’s health and well being which is good because pirates from a famine-ravaged nation probably know as much about health as Dave Matthews does audible rhythm.  Not only has it been challenging ensuring the health of the crew, but keeping them entertained has also proven difficult for the Somali pirates. Said Mr. Ali: “We tried having a costume party one night, but no one really showed up cause there was a new episode of ‘The Amazing Race’ on. It sucks cause I was gonna kill it dressed as Lumbergh from Office Space.” He continued “You know, I signed on for this thing thinking that at some point Bono would get involved and try to get these dudes released and that maybe we’d hang out or something but so far all we’ve received is a lame letter from George Clooney.”

Now, let me take the opportunity to out myself on this and speak from experience. I have ordered these before because they taste good. I like them. It’s as if God himself had crushed up some Starburst, mixed it with 7-Up and gently sprinkled the mixture down my throat. But, never, ever have I ordered one without thinking to myself “this makes me a douchebag.” This is because somehow, the Vodka Red Bull is the John Cusack of cocktails. You know it, the bartender knows it, and the guy with his hat backwards wearing the Big Lebowski-themed t-shirt from Urban Outfitters drinking Bud Light who is only slightly less of a douche knows it. There’s just sort of a universal understanding on this that is hard to put your finger on, but rings true throughout the land.

Keep in mind that this only applies to the straight males out there for some reason. You’re not allowed to order a glass of white wine for yourself at a bar either, but for everyone else, it’s ok. Whiskey? Man’s drink. Beer? Perfectly acceptable. White Russian? Pushing it. The point is that whether it’s fair or not, society may judge you based on the drink you have in your hand, and that judgment is likely to be unkind when it it is a Vodka Red Bull . I don’t know when it happened or who decided it, but it’s something you need to accept and keep in mind because it is reality and for some reason, it just makes sense. My brief but completely valid and scientific survey of female readers also verifies that a straight man will find the wings given to him will be flying away from any female’s pants when he is with a Vodka Red Bull in tow. Perhaps you can help me explain this phenomenon in the comments section below, and it may be short-sighted, but as I see it, ordering a Vodka Red Bull is a definite sign of douchery.

DavidGorcey.com Disclaimer: Some of the lyrics featured in this song are graphic, so those with more modest sensitivities should proceed with caution, although I have gone with the rather PG-lyrics as featured on the radio/MTV.

Just wakin up in the mornin gotta thank God
I don’t know but today seems kinda odd
No barkin from the dog, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog

Here the artist reflects on the eerie sense of happiness he feels upon waking up, and his delight is enhanced by his mother’s cooking of a breakfast that conforms to both Kosher and Halal culinary observances.

I got my grub on, but didn’t pig out
Finally got a call from a girl I wanna dig out
Hooked it up for later as I hit the do’
Thinkin will I live, another twenty-fo’

The artist ate quite a bit, but thankfully not enough to result in discomfort, then received a call from a desirable young woman with whom he made plans, pondering whether or not this day will be his last in the same interval.

I gotta go cause I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
Had to stop, at a red light
Lookin in my mirror and not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright
I got a beep from Kim, and she can do it all night

Here, our protagonist leaves in a convertible equipped with hydraulic capabilities. Upon stopping at a red light in accord with common traffic procedures, he looks in his mirror and notes a refreshing lack of potential criminals in view. All is well, and he is even paged by a lady-friend named Kim, whose love-making prowess is well respected for the endurance with which it is conducted.

Called up the homies and I’m askin y’all
Which park, are y’all playin basketball?
Get me on the court and I’m trouble
Last week messed around and got a triple double
Freakin brothers every way like M.J.
I can’t believe, today was a good day

Moving on, he calls his friends to inquire where they are meeting for a game of basketball, noting that on the court he is a formidable competitor, and that even when not playing seriously, he can post double-digit stats in points, rebounds, and assists in a fashion reminiscent of Michael Jordan.

Drove to the pad and hit the showers
Didn’t even get no static from the cowards
Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me
Saw the police and they rolled right past me
No flexin, didn’t even look in a brotha’s direction
as I ran the intersection

Hygiene is imperative which sees the writer heading home to cleanse following exercise. On the way, there were no potential conflicts with policemen/women whom just the day before had found reason to engage him with gunfire. This time, the police merely drove on causing him to be at ease as he knowingly defied the rules of the road and drove through an intersection he should have remained fully stopped at.

Went to Short Dog’s house, they was watchin Yo! MTV Raps
What’s the haps on the craps?
Shake ‘em up, shake ‘em up, shake ‘em up, shake ‘em
Roll ‘em in a circle of homies and watch me break ‘em
with the seven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven
Seven even back do’ Lil’ Joe

Arriving at the home of a peer, he sees that friends are gathered watching a show popular on MTV at the time. His curiosity quickly heads towards gambling and the game of craps in which he partakes, breaking the hopes of the others participating by rolling winning numbers on the dice. No idea what “back do’ Lil Joe” pertains to, sorry.

I picked up the cash flow
Then we played bones, and I’m yellin domino
Plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.
Today was a good day

After collecting his winnings, the writer’s luck continues when a game of dominoes is played in which he finds himself victorious. This culminates with his yelling of “Domino”. The time passes with no news of casualties amongst his cohort in the neighborhood of South Central L.A. further distinguishing this day as a “good” one.

Left my homie’s house paid
Picked up a girl been tryin to dig since the 12th grade
It’s ironic, I had the brew she had the chronic
The Lakers beat the Supersonics

He leaves the house of Short Dog with more money than he arrived with, and then picked up a female whom he has long courted. Usually he might have had the cannabis that characterizes many of his interactions with friends, however, this time, she was the one with cannabis, while he supplied alcoholic beverages. Furthering his enjoyment, the Los Angeles Lakers basketball team were victorious over their rivals, the Seattle Supersonics.

I felt on the big fat fanny
Pulled out the jammy, and killed the punanny
And my jimmy runs deep, so deep
So deep put her butt to sleep
Woke her up around one
She didn’t hesitate, to call Ice Cube the top gun

Admiring the physique of his companion, the artist practices safe sex with his guest before waking in the early morning hours to compliments from her.

Drove her to the pad and I’m coastin
Took another sip of the potion hit the three-wheel motion
I was glad everything had worked out
Dropped her ass off and then chirped out
Today was like one of those fly dreams
Didn’t even see a berry flashin those high beams

He dropped his friend off after their rendezvous before drinking more and further engaging the hydraulics on his vehicle causing it to ride on only three wheels. He was glad with the way the night had progressed, comparing it to a good dream and noting the absence of police inquisitiveness directed at him through the use of their high-powered flood lights.

No helicopter looking for a murder
Two in the mornin got the Fatburger
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read, “Ice Cube’s a pimp” (yeah)
Drunk as hell but no throwin up
Half way home and my pager still blowin up
Today I didn’t even have to use my A.K.
I got to say it was a good day

As the song winds up, it is noted that no helicopters are searching for a crime scene, and that he was able to procure tasty fast food even at the hour of 2 AM. A good omen surfaced in the appearance of the Goodyear Blimp, and although he comments that it ran a complimentary message about him, this is likely a metaphor for the general euphoria of the evening rather than an actual occurrence. Though inebriated, he keeps it together without vomiting, and while halfway home, his popularity has yet to wane illustrated through the activity of his pager. Concluding his reflections, he notes that violence was even unnecessary as he found no use for the soviet made assault rifle he owns, and therefore, it was indeed a good day.

We haven’t crossed paths in a while, but I know you’re still out there. And I want you to knock it off, because I haven’t forgotten about you. You’re still occupying the fitness room at a 24-Hour Fitness when no classes are in session, and you’re still ridiculous. Your Senor Frog’s Ensenada souvenir tank top indicates that you are in your mid-forties, maybe older, and that makes your behavior all the more sad.

The fact that you do not see how absurd it is for you to practice your katas in front of the mirror only makes me want to kick your ass that much more. And it looks like I have a good chance because I don’t plan on attacking you in a rhythmic, predictable assault of punches to your stomach and kicks to your lower legs. Anyone practicing katas somewhere other than their “dojo” or still-dinosaur-wallpapered bedroom should have their blue belt taken away from them and be spanked publicly with it. You are possibly the only person alive whom I would root for Cobra Kai against. “No Mercy for the tool doing katas at the gym, Johnny!”

So stop it, because I feel embarrassed for you, ok, “Mitchell” or whatever your name is? Don’t make me come for you, because if I do your Senor Frog’s Ensenada souvenir tank top and Ocean Pacific shorts will never be the same…