Wayne Knight Was Immediately Flattened

A few years ago, Beth (my sister), Brent (my boo) and I are hanging around our roach motel, drinking some beers to block out said roaches, and trying to find some quality Saturday night TV. Cartoon Network won us over w/ their bold decision to run some back-to-back Space Jam. Hell. Yes.

Brent is fascinating us w/ the actual box score that a Space Jam superfan took the time to compose. Beth asks what the stats for Newman are. Brent’s answer will live in infamy: “Wayne Knight was immediately flattened.” 

You know those inside jokes you have among your friends? That usually aren’t funny to anyone else? This would be one of those times.

This weekend Brent and I are in New Hampshire for some early early birthday celebrations; Brent and his sister both have their birthdays mid to late July, and his parents will be down in Florida for most of July and wanted to make sure they got their party on. Hot dogs and cake and beer? God, do I have to? (sidenote: for anyone not from New England and just assumes New Hampshire is some small lame-o state (sorry babe) I thought the same thing too until I learned that there’s no sales tax in NH. And there’s actually some pretty cool people who live/hail from there ; ) 

So, the Sam Summer is flowing, the hot dogs are grilling, and now it’s time to open presents. I plant myself next to Brent to see his haul. First gift? A case of Sam Summer from his godmother. I guess fairy godmothers do exist. 

Second gift? A pizza cutter. Which I squeal a little too loudly over. The last time Brent’s parents were over, they noticed the puny state of our pizza cutter (a hand-me-down from them, no less). The new one is perfect for the giant slices of pizza I like to cut. 

The next gift was a printer/scanner/copier. I have to admit, I was more than a little excited to not have to email Brent twenty times a week w/ print requests, and I think Brent was too, especially when the next few gifts were necessities like ink and paper. 

The final gift? Space Jam. I literally scream w/ excitement (I blame Sam Adams).

Brent and I are talking about how much fun we had on the drive home the next day and he mentions that his mom was a little surprised by my reaction to the movie versus my reaction to the printer. What can I say; the Tune Squad trumps technology. I mean, do you remember Michael Jordan’s halftime pep talk? That shit still inspires me.