Update, In Case Anyone Cares.

December 20, 2009

PREVIOUSLY ON “MAN OVERBOARD”: Coco and Bim go to a wrestling show and make out like a couple of little girl-gays.

Fast-forward to five and a half months later, we find Coco sitting home alone on a Sunday morning while taking a break from unclogging the bathroom sink, and under the influence of over-the-counter medication as he enters Day Four of waging war against the flu.

Pretty pathetic, if you ask me. But given the circumstances, I’m still smiling from ear to ear. If you knew why, you’d probably smile along. Do you want to know why? Because I wouldn’t mind telling you why.

So do you want to? No? Seriously? I’ll pay you!

For one thing, I finally got myself a car. It’s a second-hand dark red M/T 2.0 ’91 Toyota Corona that came with fairly new tires, battery, and timing belt. A/C was okay but then it went on the fritz so I had to have it fixed this morning. It’s got a radio that works and a cassette player that doesn’t. It has an alarm system and a heavy, somewhat-squeaky clutch, which I kind of like because I drove a Mitsubishi Adventure for a couple of years back in college and an L200 pickup in 2007. So I’m definitely used to giving my left foot a workout.

I still haven’t come up with a name for it but I’m not sure if anything could top “Fernando,” my previous car’ name.

I spent what’s left of my life savings to get this car and even loaned money from my sister to get it so I hope it’s worth it. I mean, I never owed anybody any money, ever. Sure, I may have borrowed fifties several times back in the day so I could get home from school every time I miscalculated my daily budget (i.e. those times when I treated my special lady to not one, but TWO soft tacos for lunch), but that’s it.

I’ve also been seeing my friends a lot lately. Now that I’ve got myself a motor vehicle, I could find even more time with them than before.

Though, to address the elephant in the room (the monkey in the fridge, the snake on the plane, the cheetah in the bank, whatever), yes, I ended a six-year on-and-off relationship back in October.

But like a motherfucking Phoenix, I set a lot of stuff ablaze and rose from the ashes. Unlike a motherfucking Phoenix however, I wiped my slate clean and did plenty of sweeping. (Fun fact: Pheonices tend to leave a bit of a mess after every fiery emergence as they lack opposable thumbs which prevent them from holding contraptions that are used for tidying up. Now you know.)

And the best thing about my life since my last documented adventure? A girl named Angel. No offense to any of my exes, they were all pretty, but GOD-DAMN, I have not seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.

This one takes the cake, baked it to begin with, and eats it too. And she’s now officially with me: some scrawny, talentless, presently-broke douchebag who has seriously been more-than-once referred to as an emotional retard.

Again, no offense to my exes, but I’m just not used to getting “the” girl. When I showed her photo to some of my friends, I got high fives.

When we met with some TMB folk last month and introduced her to them, I got high fives. I didn’t get simple, backdoor high fives, like while she’s in the restroom or something, but blatant high fives IN FRONT OF HER FACE. To quote Bim: “Angel, I know I just met you, but Coco… (raises him palm and preps for what could be the high five of the year).”

Hell, even my Mom, MY MOM, gave me a high five after meeting her.

And how did we get started? This girl asked me out first. Do you know how insane that is? I honestly do not know what in the hell I did to deserve this.

Anyway, I know all of this sounds awful tacky. It’s just that every time I get on here and write, I’m either whining or making jokes about the Pope and I simply wanted to do something different this time around.

So that’s what’s been going on under my patch of the sky. Also, I’m not really paying you for reading along. Go away.