HAHAHA!!!!!!! What the hell????
Well they do get the message across. So what do you think? Notice those are beer goggles he's wearing.
I think in the outtake he pulls a gun out and kills her.
Here’s an idea for a commercial that I’ll be offering Old Country Buffet*:
- Instead of “All you can eat,” The promotion will be called “All Hugh can eat.”
- And Hugh will be this huge fat fuck. Close to four bills. The following is just a random brainstorming list of some ideas for the commercial:
- Opening of commercial shows Hugh pulling up in his handicap van and hobbling up the six steps to the restaurant. (Stopping twice to catch his breath).
- Huge stands at the hostess table and is greeted by a cheerful hostess who says to Hugh “follow me” – giving the appearance that he’s being seated in a real live restaurant and not a homeless shelter grade dining hall. She reminds Hugh of the “no sharing policy.” She looks at him again and says, “Seriously…no sharing. We’ll find out if you do. And you won’t be able to come back. Are we clear with that?”**
- Hugh drops his oxygen tank at his table and makes his way to the vittles. Mother’s pull children from his path as if guarding them from a charging rhino.
- Hugh wraps his sausage fingers around the dirty ladles and drops food onto his plate: Heat lamp crusted mac and cheese, unseasoned baked chicken, mashed potaters topped with fatty gravy and more….much, much more.
- His plate is loaded. A young chubby lad looks up at him, “Hey Mister, you don’t need to load up your plate THAT much because it’s all you can eat.”
- Hugh looks at the boy, leans down as much as he can and with garlic and cigar breath hitting the kid’s face with the intensity of a CVS handheld hairdryer says, “No mother fucker, It’s all HUGH can eat. You got that? All HUGH can eat. So get the FUCK out of my way!”
- Then cheerfully the announcer explains that although it’s all HUGH can eat, it’s also all YOU can eat. Both really. Hugh AND you. Do you know what I mean? Yeah. Like everyone can eat at Old Country Buffet. Hugh AND you….the person watching the commercial. All creeds too. Seriously. Everyone.
*Commercial to be filmed at the Downingtown Old Country Buffet.
**See what I did there? I worked the problem of sharing right there into the commercial. So it’s crystal clear that people know. Maybe slow zoom in shot of a video camera will follow - with a huge eye peering out. Not sure what it will do to the pacing or tone of the commercial. That decision can be made in editing.
Jesus Christ I can’t believe what I used to wear back in the day. Here was the getup I wore at senior week. I have a picture to prove it but I won’t be posting it.
I’ll start from the bottom and work my way up.
Converse hightops (untied)
Tight ass Levi’s jeans
Belt (thank GOD I didn't have a rock group belt buckle)
Surgical shirt (authentic)*
Blue bandana tied around neck. Ala’ Howdy Doody.
Lightening bolt ear ring.
And I actually hooked up with two chicks wearing that outfit. What were they thinking???*
*look at me saying "authentic" with unbridled pride.
**I ran into the one chick a few years ago. She's looks 10 years older than her age. Found the other on Facebook. She still looks pretty hot.
Yes. I know how to read. I’ve been reading a lot lately as a matter of fact. And one book I’d like to recommend is “I Killed: Top Stories of the Road from America’s Top Comics.”*
It’s basically stand-ups telling their favorite stories from traveling around the country doing comedy. Some of the stories are hysterical.
- Taking a dump in the comedy condo pool.
- Two comedians picked up a drunk chick and had sex with her. They realized the next day she wasn’t drunk. She was actually retarded. Whoops.
- One comedian picked up a chick and brought her back to her apartment. She wanted to be tied up so he did. Then he had to run to his car and get something but when he came back he forgot which apartment she was in. Haha. Guess who is was? Jay Leno! Do you believe that??
Many of the stories are about the nightmares of doing stand-up. Like bombing.
My worst nightmare when I did stand-up was when a fellow comic friend of mine started booking shows. So he booked a show at a college bar near Drexel University in Philly. The problem was that it was the day before Spring break so everyone was out to just party. They had no idea that a comedy show was supposed to even happen so it was like, “Attention everyone. The show is about to start. Hello? Could everyone please keep it down? The show is about to start.”
Oh. And the microphone wasn’t really working so only people five feet away could hear. Everyone was just standing around in groups talking. Drunk. Except five college frat douche bags that pulled chairs up to the front of the stage and as I walked out just started yelling, “You suck. You’re not funny. Nobody is listening.”
Literally the only people that could hear were these five guys. So I was like F this noise and left the stage. The dude booking it was like, “What are you doing? You can’t just walk off stage.”
I was like, “Fuck you Steve. Keep the $20.”
What a joke.
*If you’re local you can check it out of the Chester County Library.
Do you know what’s weird? I’ve never thought Jennifer Aniston was that hot. She’s pretty but something about her personality just turned me off.
Until…..
I saw her in the movie “Horrible Bosses”*
And I think I liked her because she was super slutty. Not just the extra eyeliner but the character she played. She plays a dentist who’s trying to get her dental assistant into the sack. And she’s all horned up all the time. Sexually harassing him at every turn. Probably the best movie role she’s had really. Actually the only good movie role she’s had because all of her movies stink.
And two Jennifer Aniston questions:
1) Why is she still considered America’s sweetheart?
2) Why do so many magazine’s pull for her to find somebody? There are tons of great guys she could date but she obviously only wants to date another celebrity so if you ask me it’s her own damn fault. What do YOU the reader think?
*check your local listings for showtimes
Anyone from the Philly area remember the Krass Brothers commercials? Take a look. Which girl is your favorite? I bet you like the one second from the left don't you?
Come on...don't lie.
And look at when the women are talking. He's mouthing their lines.
I was away with my son two weeks ago at a hotel because he had to pick his college classes so we stayed overnight at a hotel. So in the morning he says, “Dad what were you having a nightmare about?”
And then I remembered what I did in the middle of the night. I woke up, sat up and loudly said, “WHA WHA WHA WHA WHA WHA WHA AHHHHHHHH!!!”
The “AHHHHHH” being a scream. Then I tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. Kind of like a stroke victim, “A ra ra ra ra ra”…
I forget what the nightmare was about but I have been having more nightmares these days for some reason. And I wake up screaming.
But I still have tons of regular dreams too. Like the other night two people were trying to convince me to go to Halloween party at their CCD. I guess it was CCD for adults because they were two grown women. And I didn’t want to go because they wanted me to wear a grass skirt and be like male hula dancer. And I was too embarrassed to wear it. And because CCD is BS.
Then the one woman jumped on top of me and said I got a joke for you. And then she pretended to kiss me. She said, “Anda one…”. And I’m thinking, “OK this is weird.”
Then she kissed me for real and said, “..Anda two.”
And then she said, “…Anda THREE.” And then she pretended to pull a toy out of her butt and said, “Get it??”
And I just wanted her to get off of me so I said, “Oh yeah. I get it.”
What do you make of that?
Oh. And I had a dream last night that I had a staple caught in my dick and the local news stations were calling because they wanted to interview me.
Really sad about Amy Winehouse dying. I remember the first time I saw her on Letterman a few years ago and being blown away. I can't remember the last time I saw a musical act and I was so moved. Really. Maybe the Killers. But still.
And if you just sneak a peek you're like, "What a skank." But you look closer and there's something so sexy and chrasimatic and hypnotizing. Well..maybe to me. Here's the performance.
Let me know what you think.
Haha!! This mashup of the new Adam Sandler trailer is pretty funny. What do you think?
Oh man. Yesterday was a doooozy. I was returning from Wawa near work and I slowed and stopped at a red light. Next thing you know a woman came screeching behind me and slams into the telephone pole right next to me! (That’s the actual telephone pole above. I can’t believe it wasn’t smashed in two) She was probably going about 40MPH. She must have been distracted and swerved so she wouldn’t hit me.
I look and I see the airbags. Her car is totaled.
I jump out and her face is covered with blood from the airbag. And she’s screaming and crying hysterically. Someone else at the Wawa saw it and called 911. It was pretty bad.
So I look in the back and there’s a baby in the back seat. His head was smooshed up and at first I thought maybe his neck was broken but it wasn’t. He was fine as far as I could tell. The woman is still screaming and appeared to be in shock. She’s saying, “My husband stole all my money and kicked me out of the house and I’m on my way to a woman’s shelter.” She repeated this about 10 times.
Then the baby started crying so I held the bottle through the window for the baby because I was afraid that if I picked the baby up I might hurt it.
A nurse must have seen what happened and ran across the street and was helping to calm the woman down.
When the police arrived I left. And then when I drove away I realized how surreal and crazy it was and my hands started shaking.
Yup. It was fuuuucked uuup!
Oh and in other car related news a deer jumped in front of my car this morning and I hit it’s foot. No damage.
I hope car related bad things don’t happen in threes.
So I was at the Square Bar in West Chester the other night and saw this girl that I know. So I walk over to her (she’s not facing me) and I literally palm her head. Like you would do to a basketball.
Well, she turns around and guess what? Yup. It wasn’t her. Whoooops. I was all, “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
Phew! At least she was cool about it. And there were a bunch of people all crammed together and I had a few drinks in me so it really wasn’t embarrassing. She just kind of laughed and said, “Oh that’s OK.”
I guess that beats getting slapped.
A similar thing happened when I was in third grade. I was at church and after mass I snuck up to a girl I thought was my older sister, pulled her hair back and just whispered gibberish into her ear. Like, “Blubba goola gobbla ramalam ring ding gooba agoobba…” (something like that)
And she turns around like, “WHAT THE HELL?....”
I froze like a deer in headlights. Then I just turned and walked away. And I had to see her for the next 10 years in church. I never made eye contact with her. Because of the shame.
How. The. Hell....did I never hear of this movie?? Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the trailer for Black Mama, White Mama.
A few movies I've seen in order of worst to best.
The Hangover 2 - Terrible. What a rip off of the first. I want my money back. And Mike Tyson singing was the most unwatchable thing I've seen on film all year.
Bad Teacher - Some laughs. One of those movies that you'll stop and watch once it's on TV and you're flipping around. And how did Jason Segel start to get all these roles? He's kind of hard to look at. Am I wrong?
Green Lantern - Do you think I actually would sit through this movie that looks like a video game? From what I saw from the trailer? The special effects look too fake. Noooo friggin' thank you!
Horrible Bosses - Some pretty good laughs. Not great but pretty good. And I never thought Jennifer Aniston was hot but she's SUPER hot in this. I think it was the slutty eye makeup.
Super 8 - I really liked this. It felt like an old time Spielberg movie. And I like that it took place in the 70's.
Bridesmaids - Really funny. And I predict that Kristen Wiig (see picture above) is going to be in a lot of movies because of this. She super adorable. Nothing like a really funny cute girl. So rare.
So did you guys see any of these? And has 2011 been bad for movies or what?
It’s official. I will now declare my favorite cheeseburger anywhere. It goes to Buddy’s Burgers, Breasts and Fries. Located in West Chester, PA and Exton, PA. Note picture above that really doesn’t highlight it’s deliciousness too well. Oh well. You’re gonna have to live with it.
And did you ever notice that some people never declare their favorite foods? I do.
And trust me. I’ve had burgers all over the place. I guess what makes this cheeseburger the best is that not only is the meat fresh (not frozen. I may be making this up) but the veggies are always super fresh. Especially the lettuce. Nice and crisp.
Also, the bun is covered with sesame seeds*. Which I love.
It’s even better than Five Guys Burgers.
Here are the toppings I get on mine: bacon, American chee, lettuce, onion, tomater, pickles (the pickles are quarter inch thick deli pickles), ketchup and mustard.
Oh. And I just read some reviews and avocado is included as a free topping. Which I never knew. So next time I’ll be getting that on top too.
So there you go.
*I had a discussion with the owner once and he said they tried a variety of different buns until the found the right one. (Look at me going all investigative journalist on his ass)
Casey Anthony will pose in Playboy.....is my prediction*. Don't you think? She does need the money.
My other prediction on Twitter was that she'll be on a reality show. But I don't think that will be for a few years.
Oh. And on a related note my @FatherKelly tweet right after that verdict came out got 190 Retweets. I didn't even think the tweet was that funny to tell you the truth. The tweet was: "I wonder if Nancy Grace turned into the hulk? #notguilty "
*I'll report back in a week or so how many hits I got from using that title for a blog post.
Once and a while I'll get a comment on a blog post that I wrote a long time ago. For example I wrote a post about these dancers that were on Soul Train and how one of the dancers look all nervous and shit?...Well the actual dancer left a message saying he was NOT nervous.
So this weekend I got a comment on one of my favorite blog posts. It's called Top 10 Things I Need to Know About Carny Housing. To read the post click here.
Did you see the comment at the very end? Yup. That's one pissed off Carny. Here's the comment in case you want to read it again:
Hi, im a South African that got recruited to work and travel in America for a carnival over 8 months. We are the biggest carnival company called North American Midway Entertainment. Yes those are what out bunks look like. Most of us come from farms or cities just like u do. Ordinary people exploring a new country. We are hundreds of employees from different countries. Ever wonder how those rides get set up and torn down every week? We are not filthy animals living in a shoe box. We take pride in ourselves and what we do. Of course u get the dodgy few but u do in almost every work place. And about the gypseys, there are none. When last have u been to a carnival? Do u eat at a carnival? Why buy food from stinky dirty carnies? Your all so ignorant its pathetic
Not too shabby huh? And only a few errors. But it did make me feel a bit bad. And I have a feeling he actually hates gypsies.
Behold it's glory.
OK this shouldn't even be considered a recipe because it's just so easy. But also it's sooo delicious. I give you: The Dr Van Huesen* Sphincter Burners.
OK. Get your aprons on and lets get cooking:
- Buy a bag of long hots. I get mine from Produce Junction in Exton because you get a huge bag for $2.
- Slice open the peppers and remove seeds and the walls. You know...the white part. I forget what they're called. The veins? No. I think it's the walls.
- Add a strip of prosciutto to the peppers then stuff it with cheese. I usually stuff some with mozzeralla and others with cheddar.
- Sprinkle some salt and pepper on top and drizzle some olive oil on top as well.
- Place in pan and cook for about 20 minutes at 350 or until cheese is melted.
Then? ...Enjoy.
*Van Huesen is one of my aliases.
The other day I was thinking of something odd. What if you could gather every person you’ve ever hooked up with in one place? From people you’ve made out with to people you’ve…well…you know*.
I’m picturing for me I’ll need a large place**. You can use a VFW but for me I’m thinking a really nice place. Cause I’m classy like that. Hey, if you want to skimp and have a roast beef station and two drink tickets for each guest that’s fine. Go for it. For me though? Ima keep it classy. I’ll be wearing a tux too. Actually maybe just a really nice suit. Yeah, a suit should do it.
And here’s the thing: All the women would be the exact same age as when I hooked up with them. And wearing the clothes that they wore the first time I was with them. “Hey, there’s one with a Duran Duran shirt!”…”Ooohh. Loving the shoulder pads!”
And they would all have name tags that list their names as well as the place we met because to tell you the truth I don’t want to embarrass myself by saying, “Uh so how do I know you?” So for instance a name tag might say, “Maryanne – Phillies ball girl” or “Jane – Pub at Georgetown University” or “Amy – Ocean City Boardwalk.” You get the idea.
And it might be kind of weird because some of the “women” would be underage. But still. I would mingle around. Chit chatting. Aweing them with stories of the modern age, “Yes in 2011 we have computers. In our homes. And this thing? It’s a phone AND a computer!”
Then here’s the weird thing. Once the cocktail hour was over, (and I made a “thanks for coming” speech – peppered with amusing tales) a new group of women would come in the room. And these women would be the same women that I hooked up with but how they look NOW. And they would come in and stand next to their younger self. Oh yeah this is gonna be great.
I wonder which ones still look good and which ones would have let themselves go?*** Hmmmm…I guess I’ll have to wait and see.
OK. Now somebody make this happen.
I will now open this up to a question and answer session in the comments area.
*Vodeo-do-do
**To make sure that everyone is there I would give the party planner the piece of paper I have hidden in my attic that lists all the women I ever hooked up with. I wrote it out years ago. I wrote it when I was drinking one night in case I ever get senile and I forget. Come to think of it, I forget where I stashed it up there.
*** I know one that let herself go. This chick we’ll call “CZ” that I was with for a few weeks in college. I swear if you saw her then you would shit. Sexy blond with a super hot, curvy 18 year old bod. Literally a 36-24-36. I know this because I asked her. Well about two years ago I searched her name and I found her. Sadly, she is now a whale. Easily over 220 pounds. Easy on the buffet CZ. Easy on the buffet.
I’m not saying this story is true.
But I’m also not saying it’s false.
But suppose I used to work with someone. And this person was a a-hole. Like in meetings she would just snap at not just me – but at everyone. You know the type. Just a big jerk and a bully. Accusing everyone of false things, not being a team player, narcing people out.
So suppose then I realized that she always brought her lunch in a red cooler. So one day I crushed the chips.
And she went all bat shit telling everyone that her chips were crushed. Everyone acted shocked but was secretly happy.
Then a week later I dropped staples and crinkled post-its in the cooler. And a few weeks later I took a single bite out of the sandwich.
Do my alleged deeds even things up? Probably.
Oh my God. How did I forget to post this story about when I totally put my foot in my mouth?... Then shamelessly tried to back pedal my way out of it. Like lamest backpedal ever.
This was a few years ago and I was coming back from a night out with my friend “The Child” and The Child’s college buddy. I met the college buddy maybe 3 times over the years but didn’t really know him well at all. (And to set the picture the buddy was kind of a serious guy.)
We’re driving in the car and a radio commercial for the Boy Scouts comes on. Then this happens:
Me: (in loud, blow hard, sarcastic voice) The Boy Scouts? Phhhhttttt! What about those dudes that are Boy Scouts into high school? Like an Eagle Scout? "Look, I earned my 'Doesn’t want to get laid badge.' Look at meeeee..” You’ve got to be kidding me.
College Friend: (from the back seat) Actually both of my son’s are in high school and really involved in Scouting. I’ve even been a troop leader. We’ve gone on some great camping trips and it’s been a really great experience.
**** SOUND OF SCREECHING BRAKES IN MY HEAD…TOTALLY EMBARRASSED, THE WORST BACKPEDALING BEGINS*****
Me: Really? (acting is if his three sentence statement somehow changed my entire perspective on what I think about being a Boy Scout in high school. Like it was the closing statement in the Scopes Monkey Trial and I finally saw the light) …I didn’t know THAT. Hmmm..I guess scouting can be kind of cool.
Silence from the backseat. Then The Child changes the subject. I look in mirror and see this: 
There’s nothing I can’t stand more than a bore ass. People just yappin’ about stuff that isn’t remotely interesting or funny. And giving every mundane detail. Going on and on.
Like this chick I used to work with would go on a cruise every year and when she came back she would tell me every boring detail. She’d start off like, “OK, so we get there Monday. And usually we like to check in and get right to the bar, but it was really crowded so we decided, ‘What he hell’, lets sneak in a drink across the street…”
But saying it in a way like “Aren’t we crazy?” And trust me. Nothing interesting happened across the street but the margarita’s were sooooooo good.
Then she would proceed to go day by day and tell me every boring detail. I’d sit there nodding (because I’m a nice guy – plus I was trapped in her office). Sometimes when you thought your sentence was almost over she’d remember something “important” in the story and have to go back, “So we wake up on Thursday and then and I wanted to get to that buffet so….Oh wait! I forgot to tell you about the illusionist we saw Wednesday night*!!!”
I was always happy when she was done and even happier when I’d see her corning someone else in the hall or in the coffee room. And you’d see the same glazed over look in their eyes as she excitedly told them the exact story. Word for word, “We met this couple named Peggy and Mike. They were sooooo funny. We’re going to keep in touch. Mike was a RIOT!” I'd give the person a look behind her back like, "Hmmm you don't say.."
So basically what I’m trying to say is: if you’re boring, please shut the fuck up.
(And look at that fat fuck in the blue at the buffet table. Jesus Christ Tubby. Leave some food for the rest of us!)
*can he make me disappear
I find nothing funnier than when things are going great for people then all of a sudden disaster strikes.
Well not like tornadoes or death or anything but things like the story I'll now tell you that my sister told me.
A little background. My sister at the time had three kids. Ages 5, 4 and zero. And she was kind of paranoid about going out at the time with all three because it was such a big ordeal. So the idea of bringing the three of them to the park AND the 4 year old's friend was a major thing for her. This is how she told the story to me:
So I can't believe how great things were going. The boys were being so good, and the baby wasn't crying and I'm thinking this is such a great day. I was really proud of myself. Then all of a sudden Billy Bob's* friend says "Mrs Renard** I have to go potty."
And Jimmy, I'm like, "Oh no. Not now!" And I look in the distance and at the far end of the park there's a porta potty. So I gather up all our stuff and we make our way over there. Billy Bob's friend is saying, "I really have to go Mrs Renard."
And I'm trying to stay calm. Well we get over there and believe it or not it's a brand new porta potty. It had never been used. Totally clean. So the kid goes in, he says, "I can do it myself."
And I just give a sigh of relief.
Well about 30 seconds later I hear a panic in the kid's voice saying, "Mrs Renard,I need help!"
Well Jimmy, I opened the door....and there's shit EVERYWHERE! All over the wall, on the toilet, on the floor, all over him and his clothes. It was like someone had filled up a bag of shit and hit it like a PINATA!!!
So I'm trying to stay calm but his clothes are covered with shit so I had to undress him and wrap him in the baby's blanket and we made our way back to the car.
HAHAHA! A Pinata! God. I love that story. So glad it didn't happend to me.
And if you're a fan of explosive diarreah stories you'd LOVE this one: Clicky here
*fake name
**Also a fake name
One of the jobs I had when I was in about 6th grade was selling flowers on the corner. Yup, read it and weep. There was a guy in my neighborhood that ran it as a side business.
He would buy flowers wholesale then have 12 year olds dropped off around busy traffic areas around Chester County to sell them. We’d hold the flowers out for drivers to see. They would sometimes stop and buy them. I think we got 25 cents for each small bunches we sold and 35 cents for the large bunches.
And it sucked. I swear that if it wasn’t a holiday like Easter or Mother’s Day and I was on a crappy corner I’d sometimes make like $12 after six hours. That comes to…well…YOU do the math. What am I? A human abacus or Chisanbop expert?
Here are a few of the things I remember most about the job:
- The first day I show up and we’re all piled in the back of a white serial killer style van. We’d sit on overturned buckets. When we passed under overpasses, all the greasers would throw bottles out of the windows to smash on the walls. (By the way – other than my friend Flare and me – it was all greasers. Oh, and the teenage goofy ass driver Gene. He looked like a shorter version of that tall freak on C.P.O. Sharkey*)
- Once on the corner of Boot Road and Route 100 - with all of my flower buckets lined up – an 18 wheeler accidently turned the corner and came up on the grass and smashed all of my flowers. The A-hole didn’t even stop. The faces on the drivers that witnessed it ranged from “Oh my God! That poor boy’s flowers!” to “HAHAHA!! That kid’s flowers are getting smashed by a fucking 18 wheeler!” (I was so embarrassed I stood there and pretended it wasn’t happening.)
My friend Flare was selling flowers on 113 in Downingtown and the police showed up and were looking for something in the weeds 10 feet behind him. Flare asked what they were looking for and the cop said nonchalantly, “There was a murder in that house last night. We’re looking for the gun.”
Once on Route 100 (near the Exton Drive-in) I opened a soda bottle and the cap flew off and shot into my eye. I was so startled I almost walked into traffic.
Once when we were dropped back at Randy the owner’s house he called me into his office and this happened:
Randy: Jimmy, there seems to be some money missing of yours.
Me: Really?
Randy: Did you steal it?
Me: What?? No.
Randy: I’m going to have to ask you to empty your pockets and take your shoes off.
Me: What???
(Gene walks his goofy ass into the office)
Gene: Hey Randy here’s the money that was missing.
Randy: You asshole Gene!!! Jimmy you can leave now.
Yup. I had all the glamorous jobs.
*See his goofy ass picture above.
I have to give credit to anyone that goes out on a limb and makes a fashion statement out of their comfort zone.
Naaa. I’m lying. I’ve never put any thought into that really. Who do you think I am? Mr Blackwell?
But I wrote it because I was thinking about what my neighbor Jim did in 10th grade. I knew Jim since 7th grade. We both wore the same type of clothes. Jeans, flannel shirt, occasional concert t-shirt…. (I did start to dress a bit preppy in 11th grade but doesn’t matter for the story).
It was the height of Southern Rock being popular. The Outlaws, Molly Hatchet and 38 Special were in rotation on the radio.
So one day I see Jim walk to the bus stop and I’m thinking, “What the hell??”
He was wearing a big ass cowboy hat!! He walks up and I’m just looking at him. The funny thing is that he’s pretending like nothing is out of the ordinary.
“What the hell? Is this a joke?”
All casual-like he says, “Oh the hat? Naaa. Just got it this weekend. You know it’s pretty cool. It’s all Southern Rock and shit.” (and he wasn’t even convincing HIMSELF. He knew he wasn’t just going to just blend in. There was only one other kid that wore a cowboy hat and he was a friggin’ hick)
“Dude. You can’t wear that to school. You look ridiculous.”
“Hey whatever.”
Of course I was right. He went to school and by the second period so many people made fun of he threw it in his locker. It was never seen again. Come to think of it, I don’t even think he brought it home. I bet he just threw it in the trash.
And oh yeah. It had a feather in it. (See picture above)
The moral? Don't try and be different.
And on a related note these two preppy ass idiots in 11th grade did a similar thing. They both wore clogs on the same day to school. It was the gayest thing you ever saw and they were laughed out of the cafeteria. I don’t know which is gayer – wearing clogs or planning to have your friend wear them on the same day so you can unveil them together.
Gay blades.
I remember just starting my first corporate job. I had been there a few weeks and I’m standing there finishing up at the urinal, I flush it and then the unthinkable happens.
It started to overflow.
And I don’t mean a little either. It was like a pipe had burst. Water was just pouring out. At the rate of like a gallon every three seconds.
And it’s loud too! The water hitting the tile floor in this huge corporate bathroom was even making an echo. So I just calmly walked out of the bathroom. Quickly. Trying to look innocent as I walked out. Fleeing the scene of the crime.
I return to my desk and was going to call maintenance but thought that the story would change from “the new guy flushed the urinal and the pipe broke” to “That new guy apparently thinks our bathrooms are some sort of playground or something. He clogged one of the toilets.” Someone else would chime in, “The bastard probably used too much toilet paper! Doesn’t HR do background checks anymore? Jesus Christ!”
So I returned to by cube and sat down knowing that a disaster was happening. Gallons of water flooding the Men’s Room. Then I hear someone at the copier which is right by the Men’s Room. After a few copies are made I hear, “OH MY GOD! Somebody call maintenance. There’s a flood!” Her look was probably one of horror as she dropped her papers.
Next I hear maintenance opening up the door after breaking through the crowd. OK. There were only a few people there but still. I pictured a wave of water piling out like the scene from The Shining where the blood comes rushing down the hall. And I picture the water flooding the area outside of the Men’s Room. Fish flopping all over the floor. Random seaweed and six pack plastic thingies littering the walls.
Then I was on edge all day thinking they were going to catch me:
Marketing Dude: Hey Jim do you have the product info for…
Me: There’s no way you’re going to pin this on me Pal! You can’t PROVE anything. Can you?..Oh….what?
Or:
Advertising Dude: Jim are you finished looking at the copy for…
Me: What? Cause I guy pees it means he BROKE a urinal? What is this? The god damn Nuremburg trials? ..wait….what?
Bottom line is that nobody ever found out it was me. So don’t go narcin’ me out. Got it?
Back in college I had a part time job selling magazine subscriptions to people over the phone. I know, I know..”How do YOU get all the glamorous jobs?”
Of course this was before the “do not call” list. So it was a time when random people could call you and try and sell you things you didn’t need ala’ the phone.
It didn’t bother me when people said no or hung up on me but some people were real jerks. Like, “Listen you loser, take my name off your list! Don’t ever call back here again you asshole! Do you hear me??!”
Oh I hear you all right. I hear you enough to make a notation next to your number (usually a drawing of skull and bones) then when my manager leaves the room I will do this:
Jerk: Hello?
Me: Uh yeah…it’s me again. The magazine guy.
Jerk: I thought I told you not to….
Me: (calmly) Hold on now dear sir. Because I’m only going to say this once: You WILL be buying these magazines. Are we clear?
Jerk: I will not be buying your magazines!!!!!
Me: Oh no you will. Everybody’s doing it. Now the next step is you picking which one to buy. Were you aware that Good Housekeeping offers helpful tips for the modern…..
Jerk: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!!
Me: Sir, my manager is a very busy man. You sound like a bowler. Oh….and before I forget, can you have your credit card number ready because I get a break in a few minutes and I want to wrap up this sale quickly…OK, now back to the selling…
Jerk: I AM NOT BUYING ANY MAGAZINE!!
Me: Sir, I’m not going to call you cheap but will you – in a calm voice – explain to me why you’re so unwilling to open your wallet. Do you know HOW to read? Because if you don’t magazines would make a great gift for a friend…if they can read of course.
Jerk: WHAT IS THE NAME OF YOUR COMPANY??!! I’m calling the Better Business Bureau!!
Me: Sir the name of my company is very confidential. I’m really not at liberty to say. But I will say this: Cat Fancy is the top selling cat magazine in…
*Click*
Was telling someone the other day about when my sister worked at the Wrangler Ranch at the Exton Mall. I was in 9th grade and I had to go in to get a pair of jeans.
Her manager was a woman of about 50 named Cookie. She was one of these loud talking, super confident, drill seargent type women. But she was nice. She was just Cookie.
So I go in the store, she's standing there wearing all demin - Wrangler brand of course - and looking like she was ready to go to The Brickette. The Brickette is a local country music bar. And oh yeah. She had that really high hair. It always looked like she just came from the beauty parlour. That's what they used to call it back in those days.
I'm looking at jeans and:
Cookie: Looks like you need to be measured first Mister. Do you mind?
Me: Oh OK.
(She takes the tape measure and wraps it around my waist and measures. Then she gets on her knees so she can do the length)
Cookie: Are you OK with me touching your inseam to get a proper measurement?
(I had no idea what an inseam was)
Me: My what?
Cookie: Your inseam. You know..your crotch region.
Me: Uh....I guess.
Cookie: OK. And the reason I ask Jimmy is because you're a young man. And young men are very excitable? Do you know what I mean here? And even the slightest brush from a woman's hand - or even a tape measure can cause a raging boner. Do you know what a boner is Jimmy? Was that covered in your health class yet?
Me: Uh. Yeah.
Cookie: OK good. Because first thing it's a boner and the next thing you're spewing jizz all over my store. Not on my watch Jimmy. Not on my watch!
OK the last part I made up but she did ask me if she could touch my inseam. So there's that.
I had tons of part time jobs when I was younger. One of the coolest was a job I had driving cars to an auction.
There was a place in West Chester that would buy sports cars and high end cars, then fix them up and sell them at auction.
Pretty smart guy huh? Well he wasn't THAT smart because he hired 18 and 19 year old kids to drive them to the auction in Cowtown New Jersey. He would always give the same speech before four or five of us left in separate cars, "This is important..Obey all traffic laws and DO NOT SPEED!"
Yeah OK buddy. That's like throwing an antelope into a lion pit and saying, "Im not kidding guys, Everyone gets a limb. After you're done that I'm going to come in and divide the body and the head into equal parts. Are we clear?
We'd drive really slow up the street in our Corvettes, Camaros or Mercedes then as soon as we were out of sight it was PEDAL TO THE METAL BIATCH!! I remember driving an orange Corvette 120 MPH. Safely mind ya'.
Yeah right.
Well nobody got killed thank God so I guess no harm no foul. Is that the expression? Once we got to Cowtown we'd drop the cars off and all pile into one of those white windowless, serial killer vans for the ride back. Crouched in the back and being driven a ridiculous 55 MPH.
It was fun while it lasted.
