I'm, like, seriously the muthafuckin' king of Ms. Pac-Man at this dive bar called the Golden Gopher in downtown Los Angeles.
Check this out:
You see that HIGH SCORE? I did that. Me. Do you see how the 1UP and the HIGH SCORE are the same? It's because I made that high score when I was the 1UP.
That's right. I did it.
Because, like, I said, I am the King of Ms. Pac-Man.
(Is that her married name? Because I know she and Pac-Man get married and have kids and all, but her name appears to be "Ms. Pac-Man" even before they're married. Shouldn't she be something like "Ms. Pac-Woman"?)
However, even though I am the kick-ass King of Ms. motherfucking P to the ac to the M to the an, I had never before achieved the distinction of being Mr. High Score on a video game at an actual public place. (Achieving high score on Zelda on my Nintendo box in the late 80's doesn't count because it was my Nintendo box and I was the only person who played it, which meant I wasn't just the High Score, but I was the Low Score as well.) (Do you geeks out there remember how much fun Zelda was?) (Seriously.) (Zelda ruled.) (I remember this one time sitting in my friend Luke's living room and literally playing Zelda for 12 hours straight and we were really good at the game at that point and we knew all of the secrets and we began our mission at the very beginning of the game and at the end of those 12 hours we had won the entire game and we rocked and rolled and ruled back then too.) (We were also pretty good break-dancers, but that's another story for another time.)
Well, the other night, it was my friend Ingrid's birthday and she had a shindig and I met up with her for a drink at this bar that I think was called the Golden Goose, but it might have been called the Golden Grasshopper, or maybe it was the Golden Guppy, or perhaps it was the Golden Greyhound, or the Golden Gargoyle, or maybe I'm even more color blind that I thought I was and it was the Silver Fox or the Bronze Bear or something ricockulous like that, but whatever the bar was called, it was Ingrid's birthday and I want to send a special shout-out to Ingrid and her birth because Ingrid rocks even more than getting the High Score on Ms. Pac-Man at every single bar in the world.
She's that groovy. True story. ('True story!')
So, we were having some cocktails at this colorful bar and my friend Roberta aksed me (that's right, if I remember correctly, she didn't ask me, she aksed me) if I wanted to to play some Ms. Pac-Man.
Um, did I ever. Like, hells yeah.
So we start playing, and, well, the rest is history, really. We were both really fucking good at the game. Not to brag. But we kinda made a scene and we were kinda both yelling and screaming and showing those ghosts who was boss and eating their blue asses and shit and then, suddenly, low-and-behold, I was making Golden Groundling history.
Until some other stupid drunk putz beats my score. (Which, honestly, I have no idea if 107,420 is really high or not, like, by comparison to other Ms. Pac-Man machines. I mean, it was high for the Golden Greenback bar, but maybe no one has ever really seriously played the game there, and my wicked score of 107,420 would actually be laughable in a real video game bar. I don't really know.)
(Did you notice how my "High Score" ends in the numbers "420"? That's totally an accident, but I think that all of the pot heads in the world should light up a dooby in my honor because how funny is a High Score of "107,420"?) (I mean, seriously.) (Potheads should stop referencing "420" and start referencing "107,420" as, like, your "high score, dude.") (I'm not even joking, potheads: start using my number!) (Seriously, do it.) (Unless it really isn't funny.) (Like, it really isn't really isn't funny.) (That would be sad.) (But I think it's at least almost-funny. Like, if you're on the pot, it should be hilarious, at the very least.) (When I said "if you're on the pot," I meant "if you're doing the dooby," not "if you're sitting on the john.") (Obviously.) (Is dooby supposed to be spelled doobie?) (I swear I'm not on the dooby/ie right now, I'm high on chocolate.) (Almond clusters, to be more specific.) (My stomach is SO ROUND.) (I suppose that's not something I should talk about on my blog, but I'm high on chocolate right now and it's fucking round.) (I love using 'fucking' as a fucking adjective. I don't actually use the word IRL very often, but I use it on blog fucking constantly.) (Fuck, you know?)
Anyway, I want to know if my High Score is really high or not, and since I like making my blog interactive, here's a challenge: If you can find this Golden Groucho bar in downtown Los Angeles and you can beat my slammin' score of 107,420 on Ms. Pac-Man and take a picture of it and send it to me, then I will do something really good for you, like bear your first born child, or bake you a loaf of challa bread.
Actually, you don't even have to do this at the Golden Gopher (which I think is maybe possibly perhaps the honest-to-goodness real name of the bar) (maybe). If you send me a picture of a higher Ms. Pac-Man High Score that you yourself earned (no cheating) (and this is the Honors system, folks), then I will at the very least post your picture on my blog and admit that even though I will always rock, maybe I don't roll as much as I thought I did.