I'm sad to report that both of our dogs favorite food is cat poop. I'm pretty sure that they would rather eat cat poop than steak or burglars or whatever. This presents an obvious problem considering we have a cat. If we didn't have a cat they'd never know how tasty cat poop is, because it's not like I could go buy cat poop at the grocery store. I don't even think they sell that at Aldi.
Anyhow, we have a cat, she poops frequently, and then the dogs, especially stupid Polo, sprint down to the catbox and hungrily gobble up poop. Then he runs back upstairs, giddy with delight, with fecal remnants stuck in his gums and tries to lick us. Fortunately it's easy to tell when he's done this because the entire room he's in begins to quickly smell like a train station men's lavatory if a homeless person died in it. So usually I spend the next hour actively avoiding Polo and attempting to shame him into never eating cat poop again
Me: Polo, you're such a moron! What kind of animal eats something that comes out of someone's butt? You should be ashamed.
Polo: Arf
Me: I mean seriously, we paid good money for you, is this any way to repay us?
Polo: Woof
Me: You're a gross idiot!
Polo: Bark.
Then I say this poem to him that I made up to really illustrate the gravity of constantly eating turds:
If you eat cat poop from downstairs
I will not get annoyed
I'll simply take you to the pound
And I'll have you destroyed
You'd think all these threats would really make him think twice about indiscriminately munching crap. After all, it works with the kids. But you'd be sorely mistaken, because it keeps happening. Seriously, why are we so lenient with our dogs? If my wife ate my poop we'd be divorced. After the first time she did it. No marriage counselor in the world is going to help reconcile that.
So I came up with this great idea to buy the cat a fancy new catbox with a cover on it. The cover had a little hole in it so that cat could sneak in and poop and Polo wouldn't be able to get his big stupid head in it. The problem was solved and I was a genius for figuring it out. I felt a little like Sir Isaac Newton when he invented gravity and people no longer just up and floated away.
But of course, since I'm an idiot and not a genius, my foolproof solution became anything but that. Yes, the cat figured out how to crawl in the hole and poop, but, unbeknownst to me, she doesn't like to pee where she poops. With no other bathroom than the poop hole box, she had no where else to pee but in the deep crevices of the furnace room, where I'm certain a hobo once squatted, and also on top of the poop hole box. It's pretty frustrating, especially when you're feeling all smart, to come down to clean the catbox and find a big stinky yellow river floating on top of it and dripping into the poop hole.
So, my solution was to go get the old catbox out of the garbage, and fill it with litter, and then she'd have a separate place to pee. I felt really super smart again, like Ken Jennings smart.
Me: I'll take "Really Smart, Awesome People with Gigantic Heads" for 2000 Alex.
Alex Trebek: "This guy is the smartest, most innovative man in the world in terms of cat bathroom issues"
Me: Who is Brian?
Alex Trebek: Right.
The cat messed up my delusions of grandeur. Since the old catbox had been the catbox she pooped in, she now just continued peeing on top of the new catbox and pooping in the old catbox which was easily accessible to Polo's mouth. So I'm right back where I started plus I'm out 40 bucks for this deluxe catbox with crystal clean litter inside of it and cat pee flowing on top of it that gets rave reviews on the internet. Suck my butt, internet reviewers, you have no brains.
Basically, I'm going to have to either kill the cat, or the two dogs, or just start a urine emporium in my basement. This is retarded.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Olympic Memories
I spent parts of the last 2 weeks watching the Winter Olympics, because my wife likes them and I broke the remote because I got angry at a basketball game so we're pretty much stuck with whatever is on since I'm too lazy to get up, walk over to the TV, and change the channel. If we were watching a show about old ladies knitting booties for charity, and a naked lady gymnastics competition was on another channel, and I didn't have a remote, we would continue to watch the old ladies forever.
Anyhow, I watched a lot of the Olympics by default, and here are just a few random things I noticed.
-Figure skating is really boring. I understand very well that I can't flip around 3 times in the air, or even stay on my skates for more than 30 seconds, and I also can't pour myself into a tight, faux-fur laden, sequiny ensemble without looking like Elton John on a really bloated and extra gay day. That said, it's still boring, and the programs are way too long. The skaters spend an inordinate amount of time skating around vogueing and flapping their arms, and not enough time flipping and spinning in 4000 circles without getting dizzy somehow. And the top American competitor, Rachel Flatt, looked like Jim Valvano. Couldn't we have gotten somebody less atrocious looking?
-Dick Button has to be 80, but he looks very young, and speaks very eloquently, not the slow, slurred version of English that many 80 year old's talk. But why was this young acting, fast talking, intelligent old man wearing gigantic black shoes? The soles had to be a foot thick. It looked like the shoes they give to those people who have elephantitis of the legs. What's up Dick? Why are your shoes so frigging huge? And do people make fun of you because the first two syllables in your name are Dickbutt? Dick Butkus never got over that.
-Biathalon is a make-believe sport. I think a crazy person came up with this idea. Let's ski down a hill and then shoot stuff with a rifle, and then, do it again. One time, when I was 10 I came up with this game where I would pick up my cat, throw him over the shower curtain, and then sprint outside as fast as I could and make three baskets. My record was a little under 25 seconds. I think that if Biathalon can be an Olympic event, then Cat-Fling Basketball should at least be sanctioned by some governing body somewhere.
-The USA women's skiers are a bunch of teary-eyed, soap opera sluts. Geez, what drama, and I'm not talking about skiing. Lindsey Vonn is a prima donna according to her teammates. Julia Mancuso is always crying. Vonn's husband is accusing the track makers of designing the track so it would favor their home country skiers. Either have a big fight at the bottom of the hill, or make out with each other at the bottom of the hill, or just ski, or do all three, I don't care.
-Skeleton is for crazy people. The death of the Georgian kid notwithstanding, going down the hill on a tiny sled that looks like it was built by elves on heroin at 90 miles per hour does not sound like a good idea to me, even for a gold medal. I think I would rather run naked through a village of Penis Cannibals. (Side note: I'm not sure that Penis Cannibals exist, but I still worry about them)
-The closing ceremonies were remarkably dumb with the exception of the giant inflatable beavers, which I thought were aptly pointed out and appreciated by Bob Costas. Everything else was pointless. William Shatner was not funny. The mom from Home Alone?? That's the most famous Canadian you could get to speak? And Michael J Fox must have been on some serious Anti-shaking drugs, because you could barely see him twitch, which is one of his coolest attributes, if you ask me.
So now the Olympics is over but Channel 11 is still on because I haven't worked up the energy to turn the channel yet. Maybe I will someday, or maybe I'll just hire a giant inflatable beaver to do it.
Anyhow, I watched a lot of the Olympics by default, and here are just a few random things I noticed.
-Figure skating is really boring. I understand very well that I can't flip around 3 times in the air, or even stay on my skates for more than 30 seconds, and I also can't pour myself into a tight, faux-fur laden, sequiny ensemble without looking like Elton John on a really bloated and extra gay day. That said, it's still boring, and the programs are way too long. The skaters spend an inordinate amount of time skating around vogueing and flapping their arms, and not enough time flipping and spinning in 4000 circles without getting dizzy somehow. And the top American competitor, Rachel Flatt, looked like Jim Valvano. Couldn't we have gotten somebody less atrocious looking?
-Dick Button has to be 80, but he looks very young, and speaks very eloquently, not the slow, slurred version of English that many 80 year old's talk. But why was this young acting, fast talking, intelligent old man wearing gigantic black shoes? The soles had to be a foot thick. It looked like the shoes they give to those people who have elephantitis of the legs. What's up Dick? Why are your shoes so frigging huge? And do people make fun of you because the first two syllables in your name are Dickbutt? Dick Butkus never got over that.
-Biathalon is a make-believe sport. I think a crazy person came up with this idea. Let's ski down a hill and then shoot stuff with a rifle, and then, do it again. One time, when I was 10 I came up with this game where I would pick up my cat, throw him over the shower curtain, and then sprint outside as fast as I could and make three baskets. My record was a little under 25 seconds. I think that if Biathalon can be an Olympic event, then Cat-Fling Basketball should at least be sanctioned by some governing body somewhere.
-The USA women's skiers are a bunch of teary-eyed, soap opera sluts. Geez, what drama, and I'm not talking about skiing. Lindsey Vonn is a prima donna according to her teammates. Julia Mancuso is always crying. Vonn's husband is accusing the track makers of designing the track so it would favor their home country skiers. Either have a big fight at the bottom of the hill, or make out with each other at the bottom of the hill, or just ski, or do all three, I don't care.
-Skeleton is for crazy people. The death of the Georgian kid notwithstanding, going down the hill on a tiny sled that looks like it was built by elves on heroin at 90 miles per hour does not sound like a good idea to me, even for a gold medal. I think I would rather run naked through a village of Penis Cannibals. (Side note: I'm not sure that Penis Cannibals exist, but I still worry about them)
-The closing ceremonies were remarkably dumb with the exception of the giant inflatable beavers, which I thought were aptly pointed out and appreciated by Bob Costas. Everything else was pointless. William Shatner was not funny. The mom from Home Alone?? That's the most famous Canadian you could get to speak? And Michael J Fox must have been on some serious Anti-shaking drugs, because you could barely see him twitch, which is one of his coolest attributes, if you ask me.
So now the Olympics is over but Channel 11 is still on because I haven't worked up the energy to turn the channel yet. Maybe I will someday, or maybe I'll just hire a giant inflatable beaver to do it.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Brian at the Zoo.
It's become apparent to me over the past year or so that I go to the zoo way too much. We all have things we do too much, but mine isn't even interesting. I don't masturbate in public too much, I don't poop 12 times a day, and I don't spend too much money on Austrian hookers, but I do go to the zoo too much. Pretty lame.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this. After all, I have 2 little kids, and for some reason, as a society we've decided that staring at sleeping wildlife is educational, not to mention the fact that we live 5 miles away from the zoo and have a membership there.
Pretty much without fail, the zoo experience goes like this: We get to the zoo, the kids run ahead, one of them falls and cries and wants a band-aid, we stare at the red-butted monkeys for a while, we go in the Tropics trail, the kids race through the exhibit, we go to the Minnesota Trail, the kids race even faster because it's cold in there and they stare at no animals because all they're interested in is getting to the next animal stamp as quickly as possible, we stare at the dolphins, one of the kids throws a tantrum because we have to leave, and then we leave. That's pretty much status quo for the zoo.
In fact, I bet I can tell you, in chronological order, what we do in the Tropics Trail. It goes like this.
-Enter
-See the large lizard in an exhibit with silhouettes of large, extinct animals.
-Bronze tortoise statue that the kids always feel the need to climb on until one of them falls off and cries
-Mynah bird that never says anything even though mynah birds are notoriously vocal
-Egg scultures that kids manhandle and sometimes lick, much to my chagrin
-2 different colored lemurs that occasionally screech loudly and make everyone think that the zoo animals are staging a riot.
-Black and white monkeys that aren't there anymore, because according to the sign left by the zookeeper, they've been at the "doctor" for 3 months. They're probably dead.
-In the same enclosure are flamingos and ducks. This is a common theme at this portion of the zoo. The kids try to stand on one leg like a flamingo. They fall over. They cry.
-A cave that the kids run in to. Then they pop out the wrong end and for a second they are lost. This frightens us as parents.
-A bird with a gigantic nose. This is a new gigantic nosed bird because I know, since I go to the zoo too much, that the old gigantic nosed bird died. From a stuffy gigantic nose.
-A tree kangaroo that never does anything. I remarked once that it was a statue, and a woman next to me reassured her children by stating, "That man is a liar honey." I felt bad.
-A big fat cow looking thing with a small elephant trunk called a Tapir. The Tapir smells great, if you think a dead old lady who's been laying in a shallow pool of fetid water in the desert for 4 days smells great. In the same exhibit is an animal that looks like a big black house cat (I forget it's name) and smells like popcorn. Another double animal exhibit?? I wonder if the zoo people were carrying the popcorn cat thing and then it started scratching and hissing at them and they dropped in into the Tapir exhibit and were just like "Whatever. It can stay there, it scratched my arm."
-Some tortoises that don't hold anyone's attention for long because the most exciting things they do are turn their heads and chew lettuce. That's pretty boring.
-The upper portion of the coral reef. There's a huge glare coming from the top of the zoo so you can't see anything
-The lower portion of the coral reef. This part is underwater and everyone hangs out there. Sometimes there's a scuba diver with a microphone in there and he feeds fish and answers the same three stupid questions from kids, in slightly different variations:
1.) Do the fishes eat food?
2.) What kind of fish is that big shark?
3.) Are you a swamp monster?
-Some really smelly warthogs. The warthogs never move but you can tell they are alive because they smell like inside buns left on the counter overnight.
-Another double animal exhibit. A red panda who is always sleeping on a tree branch. In the back portion are a few goats seemingly stuck high on tiny ledges on this make believe mountain. I think they act as sherpas if the red panda ever wants to go on an expedition. Or maybe they're just goats.
-Another dark portion. It's under construction, so there's nothing in it except another lemur, and a very large snake that is always curled up in a tiny ball. This is the portion of the zoo that we lost my grandmother in in 1985. We went in, she was with us, we popped out, she was gone. She was lost for like 3 hours too. We almost just gave up and left without her. Lord knows what she doing during that time. Probably sitting in a chair smoking cigarettes and doing crossword puzzles. Since then I've had a profound fear of getting lost in the dark part of zoos. It's not as profound as my fear of big, violent lesbians, but still...
-A section filled with birds that you can't really see because there are too many trees in the way.
-A door made of hanging pieces of bamboo that you have to smash through, so it feels like you're entering a fortune teller's lair. The kids make sure to smash through the bamboo repeatedly until I threaten to beat them about the buttocks if they don't stop.
-Some poison frogs. I know they are poison because they are brightly colored and because they are actually called "Poison Frogs"
-Quadruple animal exhibit alert. A sloth who really might be dead, some more tiny monkeys, a couple of birds, and the infamous red-rumped agouti all share an enclosure. Did the zoo run out of funding or something?
-Finally, another double animal enclosure. An anteater, and some more tiny monkeys share space.
By the end the kids are practically sprinting to get to God knows where, but they always want to stop at that stupid coin thing, where you put a coin in and then in rolls around in a circle for a while before falling into a hole. That stupid thing is like crack to kids. We never have change so they always wind up having a big fit as we're leaving Tropics Trail.
See, I go to the zoo too much. But just to prove to you what a moron I am, we're going on a Disney Cruise in April, and what is the shore excursion we signed up for in the Bahamas? That's right, the zoo. I'm dumb.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this. After all, I have 2 little kids, and for some reason, as a society we've decided that staring at sleeping wildlife is educational, not to mention the fact that we live 5 miles away from the zoo and have a membership there.
Pretty much without fail, the zoo experience goes like this: We get to the zoo, the kids run ahead, one of them falls and cries and wants a band-aid, we stare at the red-butted monkeys for a while, we go in the Tropics trail, the kids race through the exhibit, we go to the Minnesota Trail, the kids race even faster because it's cold in there and they stare at no animals because all they're interested in is getting to the next animal stamp as quickly as possible, we stare at the dolphins, one of the kids throws a tantrum because we have to leave, and then we leave. That's pretty much status quo for the zoo.
In fact, I bet I can tell you, in chronological order, what we do in the Tropics Trail. It goes like this.
-Enter
-See the large lizard in an exhibit with silhouettes of large, extinct animals.
-Bronze tortoise statue that the kids always feel the need to climb on until one of them falls off and cries
-Mynah bird that never says anything even though mynah birds are notoriously vocal
-Egg scultures that kids manhandle and sometimes lick, much to my chagrin
-2 different colored lemurs that occasionally screech loudly and make everyone think that the zoo animals are staging a riot.
-Black and white monkeys that aren't there anymore, because according to the sign left by the zookeeper, they've been at the "doctor" for 3 months. They're probably dead.
-In the same enclosure are flamingos and ducks. This is a common theme at this portion of the zoo. The kids try to stand on one leg like a flamingo. They fall over. They cry.
-A cave that the kids run in to. Then they pop out the wrong end and for a second they are lost. This frightens us as parents.
-A bird with a gigantic nose. This is a new gigantic nosed bird because I know, since I go to the zoo too much, that the old gigantic nosed bird died. From a stuffy gigantic nose.
-A tree kangaroo that never does anything. I remarked once that it was a statue, and a woman next to me reassured her children by stating, "That man is a liar honey." I felt bad.
-A big fat cow looking thing with a small elephant trunk called a Tapir. The Tapir smells great, if you think a dead old lady who's been laying in a shallow pool of fetid water in the desert for 4 days smells great. In the same exhibit is an animal that looks like a big black house cat (I forget it's name) and smells like popcorn. Another double animal exhibit?? I wonder if the zoo people were carrying the popcorn cat thing and then it started scratching and hissing at them and they dropped in into the Tapir exhibit and were just like "Whatever. It can stay there, it scratched my arm."
-Some tortoises that don't hold anyone's attention for long because the most exciting things they do are turn their heads and chew lettuce. That's pretty boring.
-The upper portion of the coral reef. There's a huge glare coming from the top of the zoo so you can't see anything
-The lower portion of the coral reef. This part is underwater and everyone hangs out there. Sometimes there's a scuba diver with a microphone in there and he feeds fish and answers the same three stupid questions from kids, in slightly different variations:
1.) Do the fishes eat food?
2.) What kind of fish is that big shark?
3.) Are you a swamp monster?
-Some really smelly warthogs. The warthogs never move but you can tell they are alive because they smell like inside buns left on the counter overnight.
-Another double animal exhibit. A red panda who is always sleeping on a tree branch. In the back portion are a few goats seemingly stuck high on tiny ledges on this make believe mountain. I think they act as sherpas if the red panda ever wants to go on an expedition. Or maybe they're just goats.
-Another dark portion. It's under construction, so there's nothing in it except another lemur, and a very large snake that is always curled up in a tiny ball. This is the portion of the zoo that we lost my grandmother in in 1985. We went in, she was with us, we popped out, she was gone. She was lost for like 3 hours too. We almost just gave up and left without her. Lord knows what she doing during that time. Probably sitting in a chair smoking cigarettes and doing crossword puzzles. Since then I've had a profound fear of getting lost in the dark part of zoos. It's not as profound as my fear of big, violent lesbians, but still...
-A section filled with birds that you can't really see because there are too many trees in the way.
-A door made of hanging pieces of bamboo that you have to smash through, so it feels like you're entering a fortune teller's lair. The kids make sure to smash through the bamboo repeatedly until I threaten to beat them about the buttocks if they don't stop.
-Some poison frogs. I know they are poison because they are brightly colored and because they are actually called "Poison Frogs"
-Quadruple animal exhibit alert. A sloth who really might be dead, some more tiny monkeys, a couple of birds, and the infamous red-rumped agouti all share an enclosure. Did the zoo run out of funding or something?
-Finally, another double animal enclosure. An anteater, and some more tiny monkeys share space.
By the end the kids are practically sprinting to get to God knows where, but they always want to stop at that stupid coin thing, where you put a coin in and then in rolls around in a circle for a while before falling into a hole. That stupid thing is like crack to kids. We never have change so they always wind up having a big fit as we're leaving Tropics Trail.
See, I go to the zoo too much. But just to prove to you what a moron I am, we're going on a Disney Cruise in April, and what is the shore excursion we signed up for in the Bahamas? That's right, the zoo. I'm dumb.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
A Day in the Life...
Sometimes people categorize me as strange or odd. Some even think I might just be crazy. But, I'm not any different from the next guy. How, pray tell, do I know this? Well, I've decided to enlighten you with a glimpse of a typical day for me, which should erase any doubts you may have. This was what I did yesterday.
Wake up
Pee for 48 seconds, wonder how many glasses I could fill up with that much pee
Get dressed to go work out
Sit down and watch a show about white street gangs while I wait for the car to warm up
Fall asleep
Wake up and realize I have no time for the gym
Go to let the dog inside and realize he's standing next to me
Drag him into his kennel while he's shreiking in anguish and biting my hand
Curse him loudly and kick his kennel
Leave
Turn around, forgot cell phone
Leave
Turn around, forgot wallet
Scream in anger
Leave
Get gas
Get accosted at the gas station by a worker because I am kicking off my klinkers from the bottom of my car into his parking lot (Side note: Klinkers are those icy, snow chunks that hang off your car, by your wheels)
Yell back at him, buy beef jerky
Drive in miserable, snowy rush hour
Scream at slowness of commute
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" by Dr. Dre seven consecutive times
Shout "Blizzards Ain't Shit" more than seven consecutive times
Honk at everyone in anger
Get to work
Work a little, and also watch Super Bowl commercials
Develop a crush on Danica Patrick
Work some more
Play online Scrabble
Cook soup in microwave, spraying chunks everywhere
Eat Chunky Soup, Extreme Chicken Alfredo flavor
Decide it's not "extreme" or even "tasty"
Work more
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" on Youtube
Notice that my jeans have a large hole in them that I could theoretically let my penis dangle out of
Contemplate doing this for the rest of the day
Decide against it because I'm not sure if snow on the penis would be even a little OK
Turn down a walk-in salesperson who wants to sell me a reservation to play paint ball on his farm in Carver.
Buy a spooky, noisemaking flashlight from him instead (Side note: What kind of a weird combo sales package is this? The flashlight makes 8 spooky noises like a witch cackling and a door squeaking. Odd.)
Leave in a blizzard
Decide I need food
Stop at Subway, chatting with sandwich artist about the fact that she has a tattoo of a mermaid on her serving hand.
Frighten her
Leave with food
Eat it quickly spilling lots of lettuce in my car
Swear about this loudly
Think about Danica Patrick while throwing lettuce out the window
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" several more times
Honk at someone angrily for having Packers decals on his car.
Have a long argument with myself about the merits of knowing how to play the fife
Lose the argument
Watch a guy nearly drive off an embankment because he needed to cut in front of a car to save 20 seconds
Condemn his foolishness and short sighted nature
Get very angry with a man shoveling his driveway because he's home am I'm not
Finally get home.
Yell at the air in frustration
Shovel snow like a crazy person, flinging it everywhere like a monkey flinging poo
Get nervous because the dog is out in the yard unleashed, and looks as though he wants to run and bite every car that comes by
Calmly tell him, "Polo, you idiot, cars are not food."
Notice that the neighbor, (the professor's wife), is stuck in her own driveway
Laugh at her, then mosey over to help
Get there just as she gets unstuck
Tell her, "Oh, you're unstuck, I was just revving up my loins to help push."
Watch her back away in fear and confusion
Advise my daughter NOT to build a snow fort by the place that Polo just took a big dookie while gearing up for the next approaching vehicle.
Become dismayed when she picks the poop up with a little red shovel and prances around with it.
Walk inside and get ordered by my son to play MarioKart
Whoop him severely and talk trash about it
Get whooped by him and pout and kick the couch
Decide that I am probably not teaching him great sportsmanship
Pout and kick the couch over this realization
Get presented a gift of Exotic Sea Salt by my wife as an 1st date anniversary/fake 1st date anniversary/Valentines Day present
Panic because I have nothing thoughtful to give back to her
Pout and kick the couch because of this
Eat dinner and sprinkle exotic sea salt on all my food
Text my sister as to the condition of her sprained ankle that has a walking boot on it
Make up a new word, "Booterus-A uterus with a boot on it"
Play more MarioKart with my son to satisfy his addiction
Sit on the couch fiddling around on the internet while my son, daughter, and wife fall into a coma watching Food Network next to me
Hum "Bitches Ain't Shit" while pooping
Get mad at online Scrabble because words like "Whiteboy" "Buttfish" and "Ballhair" are not recognized Scrabble words.
Kick the couch a little more
Drink a Purple Mountain Dew. Realize that I have no idea what "Voltage" is supposed to taste like.
Watch out the window and root for people to slip down the hill and get stuck in their cars
Cheer loudly and wake up the family when one does
Boo loudly when he escapes
Carry the entire family up to their respective beds
Poke myself in the eye taking out my contacts
Lay down in bed and realize I am laying on a tiny stuffed dog
Cast dog into closet
Toss and turn for a while thinking about Danica Patrick
Fall asleep and dream of Dragons
See, that's entirely normal.
Wake up
Pee for 48 seconds, wonder how many glasses I could fill up with that much pee
Get dressed to go work out
Sit down and watch a show about white street gangs while I wait for the car to warm up
Fall asleep
Wake up and realize I have no time for the gym
Go to let the dog inside and realize he's standing next to me
Drag him into his kennel while he's shreiking in anguish and biting my hand
Curse him loudly and kick his kennel
Leave
Turn around, forgot cell phone
Leave
Turn around, forgot wallet
Scream in anger
Leave
Get gas
Get accosted at the gas station by a worker because I am kicking off my klinkers from the bottom of my car into his parking lot (Side note: Klinkers are those icy, snow chunks that hang off your car, by your wheels)
Yell back at him, buy beef jerky
Drive in miserable, snowy rush hour
Scream at slowness of commute
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" by Dr. Dre seven consecutive times
Shout "Blizzards Ain't Shit" more than seven consecutive times
Honk at everyone in anger
Get to work
Work a little, and also watch Super Bowl commercials
Develop a crush on Danica Patrick
Work some more
Play online Scrabble
Cook soup in microwave, spraying chunks everywhere
Eat Chunky Soup, Extreme Chicken Alfredo flavor
Decide it's not "extreme" or even "tasty"
Work more
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" on Youtube
Notice that my jeans have a large hole in them that I could theoretically let my penis dangle out of
Contemplate doing this for the rest of the day
Decide against it because I'm not sure if snow on the penis would be even a little OK
Turn down a walk-in salesperson who wants to sell me a reservation to play paint ball on his farm in Carver.
Buy a spooky, noisemaking flashlight from him instead (Side note: What kind of a weird combo sales package is this? The flashlight makes 8 spooky noises like a witch cackling and a door squeaking. Odd.)
Leave in a blizzard
Decide I need food
Stop at Subway, chatting with sandwich artist about the fact that she has a tattoo of a mermaid on her serving hand.
Frighten her
Leave with food
Eat it quickly spilling lots of lettuce in my car
Swear about this loudly
Think about Danica Patrick while throwing lettuce out the window
Play "Bitches Ain't Shit" several more times
Honk at someone angrily for having Packers decals on his car.
Have a long argument with myself about the merits of knowing how to play the fife
Lose the argument
Watch a guy nearly drive off an embankment because he needed to cut in front of a car to save 20 seconds
Condemn his foolishness and short sighted nature
Get very angry with a man shoveling his driveway because he's home am I'm not
Finally get home.
Yell at the air in frustration
Shovel snow like a crazy person, flinging it everywhere like a monkey flinging poo
Get nervous because the dog is out in the yard unleashed, and looks as though he wants to run and bite every car that comes by
Calmly tell him, "Polo, you idiot, cars are not food."
Notice that the neighbor, (the professor's wife), is stuck in her own driveway
Laugh at her, then mosey over to help
Get there just as she gets unstuck
Tell her, "Oh, you're unstuck, I was just revving up my loins to help push."
Watch her back away in fear and confusion
Advise my daughter NOT to build a snow fort by the place that Polo just took a big dookie while gearing up for the next approaching vehicle.
Become dismayed when she picks the poop up with a little red shovel and prances around with it.
Walk inside and get ordered by my son to play MarioKart
Whoop him severely and talk trash about it
Get whooped by him and pout and kick the couch
Decide that I am probably not teaching him great sportsmanship
Pout and kick the couch over this realization
Get presented a gift of Exotic Sea Salt by my wife as an 1st date anniversary/fake 1st date anniversary/Valentines Day present
Panic because I have nothing thoughtful to give back to her
Pout and kick the couch because of this
Eat dinner and sprinkle exotic sea salt on all my food
Text my sister as to the condition of her sprained ankle that has a walking boot on it
Make up a new word, "Booterus-A uterus with a boot on it"
Play more MarioKart with my son to satisfy his addiction
Sit on the couch fiddling around on the internet while my son, daughter, and wife fall into a coma watching Food Network next to me
Hum "Bitches Ain't Shit" while pooping
Get mad at online Scrabble because words like "Whiteboy" "Buttfish" and "Ballhair" are not recognized Scrabble words.
Kick the couch a little more
Drink a Purple Mountain Dew. Realize that I have no idea what "Voltage" is supposed to taste like.
Watch out the window and root for people to slip down the hill and get stuck in their cars
Cheer loudly and wake up the family when one does
Boo loudly when he escapes
Carry the entire family up to their respective beds
Poke myself in the eye taking out my contacts
Lay down in bed and realize I am laying on a tiny stuffed dog
Cast dog into closet
Toss and turn for a while thinking about Danica Patrick
Fall asleep and dream of Dragons
See, that's entirely normal.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My Brushes with Mortality
You ever almost die? I almost died the other day. It was last friday and I was driving to a friend's house to play poker. Before I went I stopped at a gas station and bought a Cherry Crush. I was really excited because I'd never seen a Cherry Crush before and, as everybody knows, any kind of Cherry flavored soda is really awesome and sweet.
So I was driving on a county road, happily swilling my cherry flavored beverage, and loving life when all of a sudden I got a really bad ear itch. It was something that needed scratching immediately. So I started itching my ear. To do this I had to transfer the cherry pop to my left hand. I was now steering the car and clinging to my pop with one hand. Then the pop started to slip out of my hand. Being that it was a terrific, new, potentially rare kind of pop that I may never have the opportunity to drink again, I instinctively clasped my legs together so that I could catch my soda between my knees before it fell on the dirty interior of the car and spilled all over the place.
Unbeknownst to me however, my left leg was resting directly against the underside of the steering wheel, so slamming my legs together caused my knee to turn the wheel left very violently, aiming the car right towards the concrete divider in the center of the road. Now, because I was lucky I managed to catch my pop, grab it with my ear-itching hand, and then grab the steering wheel with my other hand and correct my direction back towards the middle of the road all in the same motion. I came about a millimeter from the divider and I spilled a little pop on my crotch, but other than that I was fine. But it could have been way worse. I could have whacked the divider going 55 and then overcorrected trying to get back on the road and flipped my SUV and crushed my neck and died face down in the snow, and nobody would have ever known what the hell I was doing.
It got me to thinking about how many times I've almost died based on pure stupidity or weird luck. I thought of about three different examples.
1.) Age: 9
Nearly died from: Hanging/ or serious head trauma
I had just finished playing a rec league basketball game at my elementary school and, along with some friends, was getting ready to watch the game after us. It featured 3rd graders from my own school, so it held a certain level of interest to me. We would sit on the stage facing the game and cheer or boo, or whatever. While the teams were warming up we spent most of our time screwing around on the stage. There was a big port-a-pit back there for reasons unknown, and it was always fun to launch yourself onto the port-a-pit because it felt really comfy to land on. So during one of my forays onto the pit, I got a really big running start and dove, but because I had such a head of steam, I dove a little far and hit the corner. Landing on the corner made the port-a-pit shoot me off at a weird angle, backwards, and towards the edge of the stage. Realizing that I was in trouble, I tried to flip my body around in mid-flight to see where I was going. Just as I did that, I got caught by my neck in the rope that was used to pull open the stage curtains. I was officially hanging myself. Just as I started to die my neck dislodged itself from the rope and I landed on my butt, about two inches from the edge of the stage. Now the weird thing is, if I hadn't almost hung myself, I would have flown off the stage backwards and probably cracked my head open. (Side note: My mom was always warning me about cracking my head open, usually wide open. Until I was 24 I believed that you could actually hit your head and it would crack wide open like an egg, and your brain would just fall out with a loud "PLOP" . I'm glad I never saw that. Ick!) Anyway, I only hung myself a little bit, and I didn't fall off the stage and crack my head wide open so my brain plopped out. Instead I ran back and jumped on the port-a-pit a little bit more.
2.) Age: 16
Nearly Died From: Crushed by a Semi
I was driving to school one spring day. I had just gotten my license about two weeks earlier and I was feeling pretty geeked about my new found autonomy. To drive to school, I had to drive through Highway 7. There was no overpass or anything, so you had to wait for a stop light. I got about 3 blocks from the stop light, when I heard a buzzing coming from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and I saw, to my horror, that there was a hornet flying around in my back seat. Now, people that know me know that I hate hornets more than just about anything, because they've always loved to sting me. For some reason mosquitos love to bite me because I taste good, and hornets love to sting me because I must feel really good on their stupid hornet butts to sting. I immediately started to freak out, roll down all my windows that I could reach, and pay complete and absolute attention to what the hornet was doing. This meant I was paying no attention to where I was going. Then I heard a bunch of honking, including one big giant horn honking. Screw you people, there's a hornet in my car. I finally looked up to see where I was after the hornet stopped flying around for a minute and was instead crawling around on my back window. I was all the way across Highway 7, I had gone right through the red light, and I had come within about 2 seconds of being smashed by a semi-truck. The cars in the left lane had stopped and honked at me but the semi probably couldn't stop that fast so instead he just honked really loudly. I stopped my car and got out to ponder all this, and also to give the hornet a chance to leave, and then when he finally flew out I stood there a minute, and then shrugged my shoulders and got back in my car and drove to school. Let me just say this for posterity: Hornets are punk ass bitches!
Age: 21
Nearly Died From: Broken Throat.
I was at baseball practice and we were all in lines playing catch before the actual practice started. Next to me was a teammate of mine named Pat. Pat was a young kid, and we loved making fun of him because his name was Pat, so we'd yell stuff at him that the androgynous "Pat" character from Saturday Night Live, played by Julia Sweeney, used to say, such as "I forgot my travel baaaaggg" and "My partner's name is Chris". Hey, baseball practice is pretty boring, it was something to do. In this instance, I threw the baseball to my partner Mitch, and then turned to Pat and said, "PAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!!" He did not appreciate this which made it even more fun. So I was staring and laughing at him, and I forgot that Mitch was throwing the ball back until he hit me directly in the larynx with it. Instantly I forgot about how much fun I was having teasing Pat because I was very concerned with the new reality that I could not breathe. You ever try to breathe and you can't? It's gay! So I bent over, holding my throat, and started to die. After about 10 seconds my throat opened up a little so I could sort of breathe, but still not well enough to not die. In the midst of slowly dying of asphyxiation, I thought to myself, "Hmm, the throat is sort of flexible, I wonder if I could choke it open?" That's what I did. I began choking myself and in doing so I opened up my esophagus more so that I could breathe well enough to not die. After about 5 minutes of sitting on a training table choking myself, my throat opened up enough by itself so that I didn't need to choke myself anymore. I never forgave Pat for that. He almost killed me!
It's kind of weird when you think about it. I bet the graveyards are full of people lying there dead just because they were acting dumb at the wrong time. And here I am. I guess that means there must be a greater plan for me. Either that or it's just a big coincedence. Whatever, I don't care, I'm going to go eat a bagel.
So I was driving on a county road, happily swilling my cherry flavored beverage, and loving life when all of a sudden I got a really bad ear itch. It was something that needed scratching immediately. So I started itching my ear. To do this I had to transfer the cherry pop to my left hand. I was now steering the car and clinging to my pop with one hand. Then the pop started to slip out of my hand. Being that it was a terrific, new, potentially rare kind of pop that I may never have the opportunity to drink again, I instinctively clasped my legs together so that I could catch my soda between my knees before it fell on the dirty interior of the car and spilled all over the place.
Unbeknownst to me however, my left leg was resting directly against the underside of the steering wheel, so slamming my legs together caused my knee to turn the wheel left very violently, aiming the car right towards the concrete divider in the center of the road. Now, because I was lucky I managed to catch my pop, grab it with my ear-itching hand, and then grab the steering wheel with my other hand and correct my direction back towards the middle of the road all in the same motion. I came about a millimeter from the divider and I spilled a little pop on my crotch, but other than that I was fine. But it could have been way worse. I could have whacked the divider going 55 and then overcorrected trying to get back on the road and flipped my SUV and crushed my neck and died face down in the snow, and nobody would have ever known what the hell I was doing.
It got me to thinking about how many times I've almost died based on pure stupidity or weird luck. I thought of about three different examples.
1.) Age: 9
Nearly died from: Hanging/ or serious head trauma
I had just finished playing a rec league basketball game at my elementary school and, along with some friends, was getting ready to watch the game after us. It featured 3rd graders from my own school, so it held a certain level of interest to me. We would sit on the stage facing the game and cheer or boo, or whatever. While the teams were warming up we spent most of our time screwing around on the stage. There was a big port-a-pit back there for reasons unknown, and it was always fun to launch yourself onto the port-a-pit because it felt really comfy to land on. So during one of my forays onto the pit, I got a really big running start and dove, but because I had such a head of steam, I dove a little far and hit the corner. Landing on the corner made the port-a-pit shoot me off at a weird angle, backwards, and towards the edge of the stage. Realizing that I was in trouble, I tried to flip my body around in mid-flight to see where I was going. Just as I did that, I got caught by my neck in the rope that was used to pull open the stage curtains. I was officially hanging myself. Just as I started to die my neck dislodged itself from the rope and I landed on my butt, about two inches from the edge of the stage. Now the weird thing is, if I hadn't almost hung myself, I would have flown off the stage backwards and probably cracked my head open. (Side note: My mom was always warning me about cracking my head open, usually wide open. Until I was 24 I believed that you could actually hit your head and it would crack wide open like an egg, and your brain would just fall out with a loud "PLOP" . I'm glad I never saw that. Ick!) Anyway, I only hung myself a little bit, and I didn't fall off the stage and crack my head wide open so my brain plopped out. Instead I ran back and jumped on the port-a-pit a little bit more.
2.) Age: 16
Nearly Died From: Crushed by a Semi
I was driving to school one spring day. I had just gotten my license about two weeks earlier and I was feeling pretty geeked about my new found autonomy. To drive to school, I had to drive through Highway 7. There was no overpass or anything, so you had to wait for a stop light. I got about 3 blocks from the stop light, when I heard a buzzing coming from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and I saw, to my horror, that there was a hornet flying around in my back seat. Now, people that know me know that I hate hornets more than just about anything, because they've always loved to sting me. For some reason mosquitos love to bite me because I taste good, and hornets love to sting me because I must feel really good on their stupid hornet butts to sting. I immediately started to freak out, roll down all my windows that I could reach, and pay complete and absolute attention to what the hornet was doing. This meant I was paying no attention to where I was going. Then I heard a bunch of honking, including one big giant horn honking. Screw you people, there's a hornet in my car. I finally looked up to see where I was after the hornet stopped flying around for a minute and was instead crawling around on my back window. I was all the way across Highway 7, I had gone right through the red light, and I had come within about 2 seconds of being smashed by a semi-truck. The cars in the left lane had stopped and honked at me but the semi probably couldn't stop that fast so instead he just honked really loudly. I stopped my car and got out to ponder all this, and also to give the hornet a chance to leave, and then when he finally flew out I stood there a minute, and then shrugged my shoulders and got back in my car and drove to school. Let me just say this for posterity: Hornets are punk ass bitches!
Age: 21
Nearly Died From: Broken Throat.
I was at baseball practice and we were all in lines playing catch before the actual practice started. Next to me was a teammate of mine named Pat. Pat was a young kid, and we loved making fun of him because his name was Pat, so we'd yell stuff at him that the androgynous "Pat" character from Saturday Night Live, played by Julia Sweeney, used to say, such as "I forgot my travel baaaaggg" and "My partner's name is Chris". Hey, baseball practice is pretty boring, it was something to do. In this instance, I threw the baseball to my partner Mitch, and then turned to Pat and said, "PAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!!" He did not appreciate this which made it even more fun. So I was staring and laughing at him, and I forgot that Mitch was throwing the ball back until he hit me directly in the larynx with it. Instantly I forgot about how much fun I was having teasing Pat because I was very concerned with the new reality that I could not breathe. You ever try to breathe and you can't? It's gay! So I bent over, holding my throat, and started to die. After about 10 seconds my throat opened up a little so I could sort of breathe, but still not well enough to not die. In the midst of slowly dying of asphyxiation, I thought to myself, "Hmm, the throat is sort of flexible, I wonder if I could choke it open?" That's what I did. I began choking myself and in doing so I opened up my esophagus more so that I could breathe well enough to not die. After about 5 minutes of sitting on a training table choking myself, my throat opened up enough by itself so that I didn't need to choke myself anymore. I never forgave Pat for that. He almost killed me!
It's kind of weird when you think about it. I bet the graveyards are full of people lying there dead just because they were acting dumb at the wrong time. And here I am. I guess that means there must be a greater plan for me. Either that or it's just a big coincedence. Whatever, I don't care, I'm going to go eat a bagel.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Brian Learns to Chat
You know what's really fun. Going onto chat lines and bothering people. I know it might be a little bit old hat, but screw it, I'd never done it before, and I wanted to get in on the fun. So I found myself a chat line and went about trying to get people to chat with me. Here is a transcript:
-A website-
Me: Hey, anybody want to have sweaty avatar sex???
(No responses)
Me: Hey, I'm buck naked and doing jumping jacks. Let the sex begin.
Person: This is a chat line for the American Girl Dolls. Go away.
A better website:
Me: Hey, my avatar wants some lovin' from all of your easy bake ovens. BOI-OI-OI-OI-OING!!
Person: What's up?
Me: My boner. Let's have some avatar sex.
Person: LOL. OK.
Me: So, like how do we do this. Do I stick my weiner in the disk drive or something??
Person: What???!!
Me: I'm new to this game, like a fresh faced rapper...
Person: You have a disk drive?
Me: Actually, I have an old toaster at my feet. I figure it will work OK for this.
Person: What??? Is wrong with you.
Me: Well, it's not like it's plugged in or anything. I'm following safety standards.
Person: You don't stick your dick in a toaster.
Me: Now that's sound advice. Note to self: No dick in toaster. Thanks!!
Person: How old are you?
Me: 4 and a half.
Person: No you aren't.
Me: OK, you got me.
Me: I named my ding-dong. You know what his name is?
Person: Oh no.
Me: Ed.
Person: Ed. Why Ed?
Me: Well, why not? Why did your parents name you Ginger?
Person: My name isn't Ginger!??
Me: Shut up Ginger.
Me: This is going well, are you ready for some sweaty avatar sex where we don't stick our dicks in the toaster?
Person: I'm a girl.
Me: Whew. So a toaster would be pretty pointless for you then huh? Maybe a milk frother would work better.
Person: What are you talking about? This is stupid.
Me: Wait, guess what I'm wearing?
Person: A sign that says "I'm stupid."
Me: No, cowboy boots, a dickie, and a deer skin.
Person: Really?
Me: Yes, my bear skin is at the dry cleaners.
Person: You are very strange.
Me: I used to be a mountain man. Except that I didn't have a mountain, only my parents basement. Minor detail.
Person: IMHO you are just screwing around.
Me: Don't call me Imho. My name is Big Ernie, and my weiner's name is Ed. Old Ed wouldn't hurt you, would he?
Person: I don't think we'll ever find out.
Me: Are you breaking up with me?
Me: Because if so, I'm sticking my dick in the toaster.
Me: I don't like all your draconian rules.
Me: I just wanted some sweaty, no-strings-attached, dick-in-the-toaster, avatar sex. Is that so much to ask??
Me: Are you blue, like the people in the movie about avatars?
Me: Because being blue is a turn-on for me. That and having more than two nipples. If you had 3 boobs like that girl in Total Recall, I'd marry you.
Me: I also like girls who swear in Polish. C'mon give me a big Yavutski!!
Me: Do you know what a face baby is?
Person: AAAAHH, leave me alone.
Me: You have sexy elbows.
Person: (is offline)
Me: Bye, bye Ginger
That was fun!!
-A website-
Me: Hey, anybody want to have sweaty avatar sex???
(No responses)
Me: Hey, I'm buck naked and doing jumping jacks. Let the sex begin.
Person: This is a chat line for the American Girl Dolls. Go away.
A better website:
Me: Hey, my avatar wants some lovin' from all of your easy bake ovens. BOI-OI-OI-OI-OING!!
Person: What's up?
Me: My boner. Let's have some avatar sex.
Person: LOL. OK.
Me: So, like how do we do this. Do I stick my weiner in the disk drive or something??
Person: What???!!
Me: I'm new to this game, like a fresh faced rapper...
Person: You have a disk drive?
Me: Actually, I have an old toaster at my feet. I figure it will work OK for this.
Person: What??? Is wrong with you.
Me: Well, it's not like it's plugged in or anything. I'm following safety standards.
Person: You don't stick your dick in a toaster.
Me: Now that's sound advice. Note to self: No dick in toaster. Thanks!!
Person: How old are you?
Me: 4 and a half.
Person: No you aren't.
Me: OK, you got me.
Me: I named my ding-dong. You know what his name is?
Person: Oh no.
Me: Ed.
Person: Ed. Why Ed?
Me: Well, why not? Why did your parents name you Ginger?
Person: My name isn't Ginger!??
Me: Shut up Ginger.
Me: This is going well, are you ready for some sweaty avatar sex where we don't stick our dicks in the toaster?
Person: I'm a girl.
Me: Whew. So a toaster would be pretty pointless for you then huh? Maybe a milk frother would work better.
Person: What are you talking about? This is stupid.
Me: Wait, guess what I'm wearing?
Person: A sign that says "I'm stupid."
Me: No, cowboy boots, a dickie, and a deer skin.
Person: Really?
Me: Yes, my bear skin is at the dry cleaners.
Person: You are very strange.
Me: I used to be a mountain man. Except that I didn't have a mountain, only my parents basement. Minor detail.
Person: IMHO you are just screwing around.
Me: Don't call me Imho. My name is Big Ernie, and my weiner's name is Ed. Old Ed wouldn't hurt you, would he?
Person: I don't think we'll ever find out.
Me: Are you breaking up with me?
Me: Because if so, I'm sticking my dick in the toaster.
Me: I don't like all your draconian rules.
Me: I just wanted some sweaty, no-strings-attached, dick-in-the-toaster, avatar sex. Is that so much to ask??
Me: Are you blue, like the people in the movie about avatars?
Me: Because being blue is a turn-on for me. That and having more than two nipples. If you had 3 boobs like that girl in Total Recall, I'd marry you.
Me: I also like girls who swear in Polish. C'mon give me a big Yavutski!!
Me: Do you know what a face baby is?
Person: AAAAHH, leave me alone.
Me: You have sexy elbows.
Person: (is offline)
Me: Bye, bye Ginger
That was fun!!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
My Neighbor
I have this neighbor. I really like my neighbor. I really like all my neighbors, I mean, that's kind of the point of having neighbors right? But this particular neighbor that I'm speaking of, worries me a little bit.
We call him "The Professor" because I believe he is a teacher, either that or he's unemployed over Christmas and the summer. He's very tall and skinny, with a gray pony tail, and a gray beard. Every conversation I've had with him has been cordial, although he is one of those people who cares nothing about what you have to say, and instead waits patiently, and in many cases not so patiently, to talk about himself.
Being the good neighbor that I try to be, I smile and nod, and acquiesce, and pretend that his drivel is important and meaningful to me, as I do with many people who I come into contact with.
The thing that worries me about this man is that he has perhaps the worst "up front" temper I've ever been privy to. I understand that people, behind the privacy of the walls of their homes, may scream and say some terrible things, but this man seems to leave the privacy walls behind him. And he's LOUD!!
I remember a time this summer when he and his wife were out doing yardwork, she was raking up old, dead grass and shrubs, and he was mowing, and I was out picking up dandelions, which is a large part of my summer work, and it looked as though he deliberately drove the mower directly into a large pile of crud. It was large enough to short the mower, and it made him start jumping around in furious anger. It made me giggle because it looked retarded.
So, I sat there giggling to myself at the idiocy of this man, but then he let loose with a string of profanities that shcoked even me, and it's me.
"WHAT IS THIS FUCKING PILE OF SHIT DOING HERE." He was furious. I realized this and it worried me enough so that I snuck behind my truck to make sure he couldn't see me snickering at him. You ever do that, see somebody lose their cool, and then go pretend you are doing something behind something? Just to make sure they don't run over and quickly kill you. I also planned my excuse too. I bet you don't do that. If he came over I was going to say that I had seen a chipmunk in my garage, and I had gone over to investigate. I had my bases covered.
I've also seen him get mad this winter. Now realize how loud he was yelling here because I was in my house when I heard him. I heard a loud screeching noise, and when I peeked outside I saw him gesticulating wildly with a snow shovel in his hands. So, naturally, I went outside and pretended I was shoveling..... behind my truck. I can't lie to you, he was cursing at the weather. There was nobody else out there and he was yelling things like "I'LL FUCKING TEACH YOU TO BE THIS COLD" and "OH YEAH, PILE IT ON MOTHERFUCKER!!" Then he got in his car and screamed........ for about 30 seconds. I was worried and excited, like when hookers are nice to me in Vegas.
The thing is, I don't think he'll go off and kill the entire neighborhood, but I've been wrong before, and he's still there, even right now as we speak. He's still there, he's still there, he's still there.....
We call him "The Professor" because I believe he is a teacher, either that or he's unemployed over Christmas and the summer. He's very tall and skinny, with a gray pony tail, and a gray beard. Every conversation I've had with him has been cordial, although he is one of those people who cares nothing about what you have to say, and instead waits patiently, and in many cases not so patiently, to talk about himself.
Being the good neighbor that I try to be, I smile and nod, and acquiesce, and pretend that his drivel is important and meaningful to me, as I do with many people who I come into contact with.
The thing that worries me about this man is that he has perhaps the worst "up front" temper I've ever been privy to. I understand that people, behind the privacy of the walls of their homes, may scream and say some terrible things, but this man seems to leave the privacy walls behind him. And he's LOUD!!
I remember a time this summer when he and his wife were out doing yardwork, she was raking up old, dead grass and shrubs, and he was mowing, and I was out picking up dandelions, which is a large part of my summer work, and it looked as though he deliberately drove the mower directly into a large pile of crud. It was large enough to short the mower, and it made him start jumping around in furious anger. It made me giggle because it looked retarded.
So, I sat there giggling to myself at the idiocy of this man, but then he let loose with a string of profanities that shcoked even me, and it's me.
"WHAT IS THIS FUCKING PILE OF SHIT DOING HERE." He was furious. I realized this and it worried me enough so that I snuck behind my truck to make sure he couldn't see me snickering at him. You ever do that, see somebody lose their cool, and then go pretend you are doing something behind something? Just to make sure they don't run over and quickly kill you. I also planned my excuse too. I bet you don't do that. If he came over I was going to say that I had seen a chipmunk in my garage, and I had gone over to investigate. I had my bases covered.
I've also seen him get mad this winter. Now realize how loud he was yelling here because I was in my house when I heard him. I heard a loud screeching noise, and when I peeked outside I saw him gesticulating wildly with a snow shovel in his hands. So, naturally, I went outside and pretended I was shoveling..... behind my truck. I can't lie to you, he was cursing at the weather. There was nobody else out there and he was yelling things like "I'LL FUCKING TEACH YOU TO BE THIS COLD" and "OH YEAH, PILE IT ON MOTHERFUCKER!!" Then he got in his car and screamed........ for about 30 seconds. I was worried and excited, like when hookers are nice to me in Vegas.
The thing is, I don't think he'll go off and kill the entire neighborhood, but I've been wrong before, and he's still there, even right now as we speak. He's still there, he's still there, he's still there.....
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