2010625 SCRAM!

By Blake Townsley

Due to the World Cup, Blake Townsley has taken the day off from his regular duties, but has promised us that he’ll return for next week’s regularly scheduled blog. In his stead, PickV.com is proud to present his replacement for the week, guest blogger SCRAM Bracelet #26349, better known as the Lohan alcohol monitoring bracelet. 

Hey. So I guess I’m supposed to fill in for Blake or something this week, since he’s off watching soccer and drinking beers outside. Man, do I wish I could be there with him. I know what you’re thinking. “Wait, you’re an alcohol monitoring device, are you even allowed to drink alcohol?” I get so tired of that question at parties. That’s just my job alright, it’s not who I am.  I can get out there and rip it up with the best of ‘em. Whiskey shots? Fine. Irish Car Bombs? Bring it on. Just not while I’m working. If anything, six straight months of having to be the responsible one in my relationship du jour just causes me to go off the deep end once I’m off duty.  Believe me, I’d much rather be watching the World Cup with Blake, rooting for my home country, South Korea, to make it to the finals and doing some good, old-fashioned day drinking. Just do me a favor, ok, if South Korea’s already out of the running don’t tell me. I’m Tivoing all the games and saving them up for when Ms. Lohan and I part ways. 

So I’m hoping to be done watching them a few weeks before the next World Cup starts. 
 

I’ve never had a job like this. It’s driving me crazy. This girl is up partying all hours of the day, bending rules to the breaking point, and generally daring the judge to discipline her in a way her parents never could. Don’t get me wrong, at first I was the envy of all the other SCRAM bracelets. I was more than a little excited about it, going to all these Hollywood parties, meeting famous people and sharing a joke about my job. It was gonna be great. Instead, what do I get? A spoiled brat wasting her talent on cocaine and painkillers, , living off the glory of a few Disney movies and one job with Tina Fey, and working mall openings for cash. Johnny Depp won’t talk to us, hell, even Jeremy London just looks at me pityingly when we see him at Lindsay’s dealer’s place. Makes me wish I was #36872, riding around with Tracy Morgan. At least Tracy is funny as all hell. Lindsay just spends all her time erasing tweets from the night before and asking Ali, “Sister, sister, skinny as a wall, who’s the freckliest of us all?” before taking approximately four disco naps a day.

Don’t even get me started on that “false” alarm from a few weeks back when Lindsay was at a party where “someone” “spilled” a drink on me. Everyone with half a gram of tech savvy knows alcohol bracelets don’t go off just because someone spilled a drink on them. My parents programmed me better than that. But did anyone believe me that Lindsay had a drink, then spilled one on me when I did my job? Nope. Not even a little jail stint to teach her not to disrespect the court. What is this world coming to?

I just wish there was some way my programming allowed me to alert the authorities for willful and delusional arrogance. I mean, I’ve tried to make the argument with my software that this poor girl is drunk on her own image, but there’s just no getting around it. Sigh. I guess I’ll have to tough it out until that scotch-swilling guy from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour plows through a school bus of tourists in front of Tom Cruise’s next movie premiere. 
 

Uh oh, wish me luck, Lindsay just woke up again, and apparently it’s time for the dinner of champions, by which I’ll assume she’s going to mix the coke in with Bisquick. If anyone sees #36782, you tell that SOB how lucky he is. Time for me to go underneath the godawful goat boots again. Go South Korea!!!
 

(Credits: Image by azrainman)