Sneak Preview of “Randy! The Full and Complete Unedited Biography and Memoir of the Amazing Life and Times of Randy S.!”
A Slackjaw Comedy Exclusive, from Author Mike Sacks
Slackjaw is tickled to present this exclusive, from the mind of comedy writer Mike Sacks (Vanity Fair, Esquire, GQ, The New Yorker, The New York Times, McSweeney’s).
Randy! is a self-published memoir of a man from Maryland found by Mike Sacks at a garage sale and is being re-published “as is.” Randy is a thirty-something who sells his family farm and commissions an out-of-work local author, named Noah B., to write and type his memoir.
“This book is fucking awesome. It’s my life’s story. I’m thirty-four but look twenty-one. Maybe twenty-two at the most. I live in Maryland. Please read it. I’m a writer, a songwriter, an artist. I do it all. I’m an artist of life. I’m an adventurer, I’m the president of my development. Read the memoir. You won’t be disappointed.” — Randy S.
Enjoy the preview, then pick up Randy!
Chapter Five: Spring Break
Randy decides to take a much needed week off.
It’s late March, a few weeks after Randy has returned from the “Cryptocurrency Convention” in the Pooks Hill Holiday Inn.
He couldn’t afford to buy.
But it’s now Spring Break.
Just as he’s done every Spring Break for the past twelve years, Randy is heading down to Ft. Myers to party his ass off. It’s a tradition.
“I have more damn fun down in that town than I do anywhere else. I hate to travel. Never do it. Except into D.C. maybe. But I don’t consider this travel. This is F-U-N. That spells fun. And it is. But it hasn’t always been without its stink-ass wrinkles.”
Randy is leaning back in his Spirit Air seat, wearing his blow-up neck pillow, munching on a smuggled packet of peanuts.
“Not allowed on the plane,” he states, holding up the packet. “Could be too dangerous for the allergic. That’s a conspiracy theory. There are so many. 9/11 was a conspiracy created by the news organizations to have something to talk about. That’s clear. Charlie Sheen talks about this. Michelle Obama has a penis. That is true. I’ve seen photos and charts. Adam and Eve were both sent to Earth from outer space. Where in the hell else would they come from?
“President Kennedy shot himself. I know this for a fact. Princess Diana was killed by Mexican mercenaries. That’s true. I don’t believe Elvis is alive or any of that shit. I believe he never existed. That was a government creation to take people’s minds off war. As for that plane no one’s ever found, it’s in Greenland. When was the last time anyone said anything good or bad about Greenland? They wanted the world’s attention. So they forced it to land. Pathetic. I hate those people.”
Randy settles in for the two-and-a-half-hour flight. He has his iPhone mixes and his Uncle John’s Bathroom Reading books to read and his Word Scrambles to puzzle over. But for now, Randy is more than content to just talk about his past Spring Break adventures.
“I first started going when I was twenty-two. I was at Montgomery College. I quit. The professors were idiots. Never really had the opportunity to party. One year, I said fuck it. This is when I was working as a temp in Rockville. God, I hated that job! Bunch of morons. Just Xeroxed and shit. World Bank. I told them all to fuck off and I quit, but not before I left them a little present. Probably still smelling it.
“So I thought, Where should I head now?I read something in Maxim about Spring Break, and Ft. Myers sounded real cool. I drove on down.” He laughs. “I couldn’t afford the fancy air travel like I can now!
“So I go down. No place to stay. I checked fliers on light poles. There was a house that was looking for more people to offset costs. I show up. It’s a bunch of fraternity types from University of Georgia. That’s fine. The house is huge. I party my ass off. I see a triple rainbow. Hooked up with a lot of Bettys. Incredible. Fly a kite for the first time. Played Frisbee for the first time. Flew a kite for the second time. Played drinking games but not alone for a change. I’m still amazing Facebook friends with a lot of these people!
“We called it the Frog Cave. The house was green like a cave where a frog might live. I’ve been going back ever since. I’m now in charge of the house. Der commandant! Yavul! I rent for the week, others pay me. I’ve never had trouble finding enough kids.
“Crazy shit has happened. Insane. Slept with practically an entire nerd sorority from Tulane in 2008. I have that down in my Fuck Journal. That was easy. God, I love it down there. 2010 was the worst year! I suffered a ‘break.’ I went bazookas. Came to believe that hermit crabs were talking to me. Ran along the beach at night until I was tackled by a lifeguard. This is another reason I hate those fuckers. He was off duty. The crabs were telling me to light the boardwalk on fire. I did as they told me. There were people on the boardwalk laughing, throwing fudge and taffy. They were pouring crab fries on the fire to put it out. Big fucking joke.
“The next year was much better. Ironically, I ended up selling bootleg hermit crabs on the boardwalk and made a shit ton of money. A lot of the crabs died. I sold them as young, but they were old. The kids couldn’t have afforded the more expensive ones anyway. Everybody won.
“That was the year I was accused of stealing the Frog Cave’s ‘Rash Cash.’ That’s the money — mostly change — that was used for suntan lotion, condoms, things like that. I didn’t steal it. I was borrowing the money to pay for a henna tattoo. It was a Chinese symbol for ‘virtuous.’ That was also the year I got that bad sex thing. My groin itched so bad it glowed in the dark. So maybe that wasn’t a good year. And the henna symbol turned out to be Chinese for ‘halitosis.’ A Chinese guy who worked at a restaurant told me. He thought it was fucking hilarious. Big joke.
“It’s fun to be around people who are younger. They don’t have as many hang-ups. No kids to worry about. That’s good. No second mortgages. No talk about office bullshit. Who cares about your office problems? I don’t. No talk of divorce. I think we have a really solid group this year. They have to send their photos and they have to pay in cash. I’m excited. A great looking bunch!”
A stewardess arrives and asks Randy if everything is okay, did he push the HELP button? Randy replies that he didn’t push the HELP button but perhaps, just maybe, if it might be okay, and only if it would be, could he possibly have her cell phone number? The stewardess smiles. There’s a glint of interest in her sparkling blue eyes. She walks away. Maybe later.
“I do have to be careful, though,” Randy states, adjusting his neck pillow. “A few years ago some college girls made trouble for me. Or their boyfriends did. I somehow convinced them I was a photographer for Vice. I was putting together a photo spread. I asked them to pose nude behind a Lido’s. They were really into it. The problem was my disposable single-use camera. It didn’t look ‘professional’ enough. So that was hard to talk my way out of. They chased me and I escaped. I still have the pictures in a special album.
“Speaking of which,” Randy says, unclasping his seatbelt. “Time for me to make myself young. I look much younger than thirty-four, but my teeth are yellow. I’ll admit to that. Everyone in my family has yellow teeth. PopPop had yellow teeth until they fell out. Then he had yellow dentures. I could never understand that. That’s why you buy white teeth! He was an idiot. So I bleach. And I wear a baseball cap backwards. I can easily pass for twenty-two, twenty-four at the most, especially with a ton of face lotion. I’ll see you in a half hour.”
Randy slaps on his Orioles baseball cap, twists it backwards, and slides into the aisle.
“I’m gonna look so goddamn sweet, gay guys will fucking want to sleep with me! I’m not gay. I’ve had one homosexual experience. I fucked a male deer. I should say that I dreamed I fucked a male deer. I love deer. We shook hands afterwards. I have no problem with gays. Here’s the thing about me: I’m way more into the rose than I am the hose!”
With that, Randy heads on back to the lavatory. There’s work that needs to be accomplished. It’s Spring Break.
Before he does so, however, Randy gives a hearty wink to the stewardess. She doesn’t return his generous display of affection.
Maybe later.
For Randy and his friends at the Frog Cave, it’s almost time for one thing:
F-U-N.
And that spells fun.
Coming Soon… Part 2: A Slackjaw Exclusive Q+A session with Randy S.!, the man himself!
Randy! comes out September 11, 2018. Order it at Amazon.
Mike Sacks is also the author of Stinker Lets Loose and Poking A Dead Frog: Conversations With Today’s Top Comedy Writers, among many others.
Learn more about Mike Sacks at his website, and follow him on Twitter.
