Bitching about Randall

Tuesday, 13 August 2013


I stayed with my friend Han in Los Angeles. Han had a few days off work to recover from a three-day binge drinking session, and his soon-to-be wife Sara was nursing him back to health. My week in the city was mostly spent lounging around with the two of them, watching Dollar Store DVDs of old drive-thru movies and poking their resident black widow spider with a twig.

One morning I woke up early (9.30am) and made oatmeal for the three of us. Han and Sara were still in bed, but I didn't want their porrridge to turn into wallpaper paste, so I decided to wake them up. Not wanting to be too forceful with my oatmeal at such a Godless hour, I decided that I should pass the social responsibility onto an ironic persona that wasn't me. Thus, I adopted the voice of an affluent and well-educated homosexual who was born in the Deep South but had sinced moved to a gentrified urban environment.
"Hey you guys, I made oat-meaaal, you buys betta come eat it afore it gits cold."
They came out for breakfast. Han picked up on the persona instantly, and we riffed back and forth over porridge and orange juice. Sara rolled her eyes with despair. Evidently it was too early in the morning to listen to the gossip and conjecture of two frivolous urban gays.
Gradually, throughout the day (in spite of Sara's misery), the characters developed until they had fixed jobs (working at the deli counter in Wholefoods) and friends (Scotty, Luke, Stefano and Dolorean). Eventually, Han decided that the personas needed an arch-enemy to bitch about, and that's when he coined the name 'Randall', which seemed to fit like a glove.
Randall was the guy next door. It could be concluded only from his name that he was a quiet, unattractive, awkward man who frequently inspired the ire of the urban gays for his unrefined taste and poor social skills.
Randall wasn't gay but he flirted wih the idea in a vain attempt to win the attention of his neighbours and remedy his chronic loneliness. Randall's Ma and Pa died in a house fire, much to the irritation of the boys, who were having a 'Back to the 70's' costume party at the time.  Since that time, Randall (with his unsightly and gross 2nd degree burns) would always invite himself round to the house, pleadingly carrying a 6-pack of Miller Lite in one hand.
We exchanged much shallow, histrionic gossip about Randall and his dead family, which always fell back on absolvitory sentences such as he's sweet, though - or - his heart's in the right place.
Sara's threats of 'not wanting to marry a Southern gay man' fell on deaf ears, and the stories and misadventures of Randall were sporadically anthologised throughout the week. Since leaving Los Angeles I have almost no idea as to the well-being of Han and Sara (nor do I know the details of their erstwhile wedding day), because our communications have been taken up almost solely with bitching about Randall. In fact, one of the few times in which Han broke character was to tell me that some of their drinking buddies at the local dive bar had taken to bitching about Randall as well, and also that Randall had inspired him to make a series of nightmarish instructional sandwich-making videos.

Here's an excerpt from our recent facebook correspondence:

HAN: Randall just got a job at a Denny's restaurant. He says that he gets free old eggs

S: Oh Gawd
he won't last five minutes there
remember when he worked at Wendy's and he wus fired cuz they caught him licking the pickles before he put them on the burgers
he's so creepy that way
I'm like "Randall, stop licking my produce"

H: He said he's working as a bathroom attendant, I said "Randall, Denny's don't have bathroom attendants, I think you're just hanging out in the Denny's bathroom and people give you eggs sometimes"

S: Did y'all notice how he disappears for a while when we go to a bar, I once asked him where he goes and he wus just like
'I like the toilets because I feel more comfortable in there' and I was like 'Randall, that's why you smell so much like urinal cakes, git outta there'

H: He takes a tube of tooth paste around with him because he said he likes to read the ingredients label while he goes to the bathroom

S: I wouldn't mind but he don't even brush his teeth, he's got like, all scaly moss or sumpthin on 'em
looks like he's been eating handroll tobacco

H: That tube doesnt even have a dent in it. His breath smells like old dog milk

S: Ah know. And he keeps asking me if James from Long Beach is single, and I'm like Randall, I don't mean to sound discouraging but James
wouldn't even slow his car down if he saw your corpse lying in the middle of the street
he's like, at least 12 social levels above you
so stop trying to smell his hair when he's sitting at my Ralph Lauren coffee table

H: I don't blame him though, James is a piece of candy

S: But Randall's idea of candy is a butterfinger dipped in nacho cheese
and James is wholefoods 75% cocoa
I don't mean to sound bitchy but I find it offensive that Randall even thinks he has a chance with James
especially with that creepy, wide-mouthed smile of his

H: I heard he was sending him anonymous love emails. About how his eyes is like the ocean and stuff. I was like "Randall you put your damn name in the email address"

S: He's dumber than a box of groundhogs, and ugly to boot

H: still, he's a sweetheart though

S: He means well

S: Remember the pride weekend in Austin when he asked if he could come with us, and you wus like 'ok but bring your flag', and he comes catching up to us waving one of his Dad's old nazi flags? I wus like 'Randall, Quit wavin' that thing around outside Trader Joes - I know people who work in there.'

H: I said I'm not going out with him again till he grows his eyebrows back. He said he can't grow them any more since the accident but I don't believe him
Remember when he got in trouble after trying to steal that "get well" card from Target? I was like "Randall who is that even for? You don't know anybody"

S: He once asked me if he could come decor shopping in Target with me because he was bored, and he ends up stealing this disgusting 4-carat gold brooch and showing me when we got to the car, he was like 'It's for my Mom' and I was like 'Your Mom's dead, Randall'

H: He told me that his father's name was Teddy, and his mothers name was Burgus. I was like "holy shit Randall, Burgus isn't even a fucking name"
Randall drinks hose water

S: You know he has that ashtray in the shape of a skull? I saw him eating lucky charms out of that one morning on the stoop and I was like 'ewwwwww randall that milk's got all ash floatin' in it'

H: He said he got it at Crate & Barrel, I was like "why do you lie about that shit? I was at the yardsale with you"

H: I saw Randall eating an orange with the skin on, I was like "Randall, you know that aint no apple", he was like "i know, but its better this way, its how my dad used to eattum" and I said "jesus no wonder you came out with a pink face and clown hair"

S: Every time he hears us having a moustache party he comes round with a six pack of Miller Lite so he can git in
I keep telling him, "Randall, nobody drinks that shit, it makes Scotty come out in hives"
I swear we have 200 bottles of Miller Lite on the front porch
no-one will even steal it

H: Its like, you got a million dollars from your inheritence or whatever, get some heneiken or something

S: The only thing worse than letting him into the party is not letting him in. He just stands outside and stares through the screen door like a hungry lizard

H: I know. I almost feel bad if i dont leave the porch light on for him

S: He never drinks the Miller Lite so I've started leaving the hose out there for him to drink from

H: I noticed a few leftover pieces of roadkill out there on his stoop, but it might just be dogs or sumpthin

S: but then again he does have that horrible fucking hat with the possum tail nailed to it

H: I asked him about that hat and he said that he got it cause it was ironic, i was like "you dont even know what that means" and he said "sure i do, like tshirts, ironic tshirts". I told him to go back to his burnt-up house and stay there

S: jesus christ

S: have you seen his new hair cut?
you know how he always has his hair just kind of mashed onto his head all flat and sweaty, like he's just basted his head with rapeseed oil?
Scotty said he should do something with his hair, like make it a little spiky or sumpthin
so the next day Randall drops by Scotty in the cafe and he's got the whole fuckin' lot spiked up like a suprised porcupine
Scotty was like 'Randall, just spike a few bits up, you don't need to walk around looking like a shaving brush'

H: What a ridiculous little faggot

H: Remember that time we followed him into his garage and he had like 25 crates of Cheetos and I was like "shit, Randall did you win a contest?" He was like "naw naw I just like Cheetos". Fuck doesn't have money to take his cat to the vet but can go to the Costco and buy a life time supply of cheese puffs

S: The only time I ever saw him playing with that cat was when I went next door to tell him to keep the volume down on his Munsters VHS - I swear I looked through his screen door and he was holding the cat between his legs and just teabagging it with his big floppy foreskin

H: Cats got that disease where his muscles don't work so good, he didn't have a fighting chance

S: OMFG he's such a freak

H: Still, his heart's in the right place though

S: He means well
Randall by Han