Alright, now, I think it's safe to say,
that most of us were guilty of playing Hooky at some point,
when we were kids.
For all you young'uns out there,
playing Hooky is where you skip school and you stay at home.
I know it sounds like some old-fashioned phrase,
that your drunk Uncle Rick would say,
"Uh, what are you, playing Hooky from school today?"
"Nobody knows what the hell are you talking about, Uncle Rick.
No wonder why you haven't felt the touch of a woman since the 1980s."
But I have to admit, playing Hooky was a nice little break from school.
And you needed that sometimes because it's hard when you're a kid.
You wake up at the ass crack of dawn.
You're all stressed out right from the get go.
"Oh hell, I got a math test today.
It's on that order of operations crap,
that I haven't been paying attention to all week.
Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally and shit.
Oh, to hell with that I'm not going to school today.
I'm gonna pretend that I'm sick, God damn it!"
Now you got to try to figure out a way to give yourself an artificial fever.
So you go and rest your fucking forehead on a Lite-Brite,
trying to raise your body temperature up to a solid 101-102°F.
Then you walk out to the living room and lie straight to your mom's face.
"Hey, I don't feel very good,
and I've been pooping a lot."
"You've been pooping a lot? How much is a lot?"
"Like, uh... six... teen times?"
"Sixteen times? Holy hell, we need to get you to the hospital!"
"Woah-woah-woah! Wait, a minute, wait a minute!
Alright, maybe not that much, but...
My head feels really hot though."
"Good Lord, you are burning up!
And you smell like hot plastic for some reason.
Okay, you're not going to school today."
Alright, mission accomplished, you did it.
You tricked your gullible-ass mom and they let you stay home from school.
So now you're laying on the couch, like it's your own fucking personal gurney.
You don't even have the decency
to change out of your Hong Kong Phooey pajamas, for Christ's sake.
Your mom's serving you Pepto Bismol by the gallon.
"Make sure you drink all this.
It'll slow down all those shitty escapades you've been having."
Now, I know most people hate the taste of Pepto Bismol,
but when I was a kid, I loved that weird pink milky shit.
My top 3 favorite drinks when I was a kid would be like,
Mountain Cooler Capri Sun,
Ecto Cooler Hi-C,
and then fucking boom, Pepto Bismol, somewhere in between.
Hell, even as an adult,
is my stomach goes, "PHGLGLLGHLLGHL, PHGLGLLGHLLGH,"
I get all excited, because now
I have a reason to drink some goddamn Pepto Bismol.
The shit's good, I don't care.
They should serve that shit at restaurants.
"I'll have the roast duck and a glass of Pepto, served up, with a twist."
"Good choice, Sir."
Anyways, what the hell was I talking about?
Goddamn, I go off on a fucking tangent on Pepto-Bismol.
Oh yeah, playing Hooky from school.
So there you are, laying on the couch like a slug,
pretending you have typhus and shit.
Well, now what are you supposed to do?
Well, you watch shitty daytime TV is what you do,
and shitty daytime TV had all sorts of things to offer.
You'd have your talk shows, like The Maury Povich,
where they do paternity tests on the daily.
"There ain't no way I'm that baby's daddy, Maury.
That girl sleeps with everybody.
Hell, she'd probably fuck a pack of hot dogs,
if they looked at her the right way."
"Well, the test results are in,
when it comes to four-year-old Smith and Wesson Junior,
you are NOT the father!"
(Girl bawling, booing from the crowd)
Then after that you'd have some dramatic-ass soap operas,
that my mom was totally fascinated by.
On the next episode of The Young and The Worthless:
"Victor, you can't leave, I'm pregnant with your baby."
"With all the men you've been with, Veronica,
there's no way I'm the baby's father!
Hell, you'd probably fuck a pack of hot dogs,
if they looked at you the right way."
"Veronica would do, she's such a fucking slut!"
"Uh, yeah, she sure is!"
But out of all the bullshit TV shows that were on during the day,
there was one show that beat the hell out of all the others.
And that show, of course,
was The Price Is Right!
♪ The Price Is Right theme ♪
Now, The Price Is Right had everything.
You got fucking Plinko,
people winning Ford Escorts and shit.
Bob Barker yelling at you to get your goddamn pets fixed.
"And remember, to help control the pet population,
chop you dog's f**king balls off as soon as you can."
You have people being assholes,
outbidding each other by one dollar and shit.
"Uh, 600, Bob."
"Very well, what's your bid?"
"Uh, how about 601, Bob?"
"Oh, what the f**k?!"
"Oh, that's some scheisty shit!
Actual retail price - $650."
"Oh, motherf**ker, are you f**king serious?!
God damn it, you're a f**king piece of s**t!"
This episode of The Price Is Right is brought to you by Oscar Mayer hot dogs.
Hot dogs so good, you'll want to f**k them!
But after The Price Is Right was over,
I knew it was all downhill from there,
because I knew it was only a matter of time
before my dad got home from work, and then the jig was up.
"Woah, what the hell?!
What's the kid doing home from school?"
"Ah, he was sick, so he stayed home."
"What? What the hell, that kid ain't sick!
Did you throw up or something?"
"Uhm, no."
"You've been putting your fucking forehead to that Lite-Brite again, haven't you?
Yeah, you better take your playing-hooky ass to school tomorrow, I tell you what!"
So the next day you show up to school,
and of course, you have to start bragging all of your friends
about your day off the day before.
"Hey asshole, why weren't you at school yesterday?"
"Oh, well, because I was too busy watching The Price Is Right,
and fucking off all day, that's why!"
"Oh well, you're an idiot, we had a pizza party yesterday."
"Wait what, it was yesterday?!"
"Yeah, and then we had an assembly in the auditorium."
"Oh, what the hell?!"
"And the guest speaker was Randy 'Macho Man' Savage!"
"What the fuck, are you serious?!"
"Oh yeah, snap into a Slim Jim!"
"Oh God damn it, what have I done?!"
So the moral of the story is simple:
one, don't be an asshole and lie to your mom.
Two, learn the goddamn order of operations.
And three, take your truant ass to school like you're supposed to.
Because you never know, when a two-time WWF Heavyweight Champion
is going to be a guest speaker at your school.
"Oh yeah, snap into a Slim Jim!
Who wants to touch my biceps?"
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