I’m sitting here writing this post in my Kmart underwear … and nothing else. Yes, even though Kmart sucks. Maybe because of it. I gotta be me. We all know how much I enjoy humiliation.
I don’t know much and what I do know seems to be shrinking on an almost daily basis. My existence is increasingly consumed by thoughts regarding my sanity.
For those keeping track the opening paragraph was “underwear” and the follow-up paragraph was “shrinkage.” This is known as a progression of ideas. I’m building up to something. You are wise to still be reading this.
Aside from all that, there seems to be something else going on.
My rate of “Rain Man” moments seems to be on the rise. There’s been an uptick in momentia, if you will.
No, we decidedly do not refer to them as “senior moments.” Despite being a grumpy grandpa and standing on my lawn and yelling at kids, I’m not ready for that schtick just yet. Not while I’m still young and in my prime.
Besides, I’m an excellent driver.
Then I was responsible for a car accident after going to the pharmacy to pick up my “meds.” Oh, shit. Did I just use the word “meds?” This is the end.
So yeah, that happened.
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Man To Man?
A wise person once said, “I feel in need of a long, hot shower.” Yep, that’s the most recent comment on this blog as I sit down to work on this post and a fitting way to start. Yesterday’s topic decidedly left me wanting the same.
The key word in the opening statement is “hot.”
Q. What goes in the toaster?
A. Bread, you idiot.
Q. Do you sell any hot water heaters?
A. No, you idiot. You don’t need to heat water that’s already hot.
Ah. So we’ll need a water heater if we want our shower to be nice and toasty.
We’ve lived in the big city for eight months now. During that time the hot water has had a rosy hue. Kind of the like the candy apple red on the car in the movie Corvette Summer starring Mark Hamill. We’ve been showering in rust.
The water heater, circa 1985, was almost 30 years old. My wife finally convinced the property management company to put in a new one. They were sending over their man to install it.
The big day came and I listened out of the corner of my ear, working on my computer, safely ensconced in my office, as my wife met the guy and they set about the task. Everything seemed to be going fine.
I went to the kitchen to get a refill on my coffee. The man saw me. Oh shit.
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A Snot Across The Bow
I’ve always had the ability to sniff out Danger. Let me tell you, it does not smell good. Why do things always have to end up like this?
My mission today is to discuss Weiner and address the elephant man in the room.
I’m going to be straight with you. I’m a dude, albeit a feminized one. So I asked myself, what’s the hubbub about this man all about? Something isn’t kosher!
When I look at the face of Anthony Weiner blood rushes away from my naughty bits and leaves me with a bit of a headache. His face actually causes shrinkage.
Am I missing something? Not to put too fine of a point on it, but the Weiner is completely unattractive. I ask myself, if I woke up in the morning and found him laying on my body, what would I do? I’m forced to admit I would chew off my own arm just to get away. Trust me on this, not many humans meet that standard.
“Weiner” and “wiener” are two different things. Never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never mix them up.
–Tom B. Taker
We call it “fugly.”
Unattractive. Unbeautiful. Man Medusa. Unseemly. Repelling. Unsightly.
So what is it? What’s the attraction? Does he have the heart of poet? A horny poet? Does he understand women to such a degree that it turns them on? Does he hot chat better than the author of 50 Shades of Grey?
Or is it merely the money? Power? Celebrity? Is it all about the unquenchable lust for 15 minutes of shame? Is this what we have come to? That life is the ultimate substitute for reality TV like the game of Survivor?
I don’t get it. Luckily I keep an airsickness bag handy for times like these.
Scream Within A Dream
Dimly I slowly become aware that I’m no longer asleep. When did that happen? I’m not really sure. My eyes become imperceptible slits just enough to perceive a bit of the world external to my body. That level of activity in my eyeballs takes an amazing amount of effort. Holy shit it’s dark. I suddenly realize I am curious. The burning question in my mind is obvious: What time is it? I pierce through an entirely new level of consciousness and become aware my body is in the wrong position if I ever hope to see the clock. What an incredible perception on my part. Some time later I realize this means I’m going to have to physically move if I’m ever going to obtain an answer to my question. Continue reading →
Hot Water Burn Baby: I Am Rain Man
I was going to write something interesting but I forgot what it was.
There’s nothing like waking up, making a fresh, hot, delicious cup of coffee, preparing your travel mug with cream and sugar – just so – then driving off to work leaving it on the kitchen counter. More about coffee in under a minute…
Lately I’ve been losing my mind more often that usual. So far I’ve been able to find it again, but not until things get dicey.
Is it even possible to lose an iPad around the house? I make it look easy.
I’m definitely not wearing my underwear.
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BlogFestivus – Day Two: Dapper Dancer
Dancer was an original member of Team One, the elite cadre of reindeer that powers Santa’s sleigh on that most important night of the year. Although his name was known the world over, he was rather shy and eschewed the spotlight and few would ever recognize him if they met him on the street. And little was known about his life away from Christmas Town the rest of the year…
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