A short story about me at Blizzard Beach

So a few years back I was going to Walt Disney World (the 7th happiest place on earth) and needed something to swim in. Went down to the local mall and found this pair of teal green swim shorts ( trunks? suit?) and headed down south.

Typhoon Lagoon? The hotel pool? Blizzard Beach? Where should I swim?

Blizzard Beach was the choice. Huge water park with giant slides, wave pools, and all that kinda stuff. Jammed packed with not the most attractive people in America.

I'm going down the slides, floating slowly in innertubes down lazy winding rivers, burning my skin to a crisp...you know, having fun... when all of a sudden I notice all the ladies looking at me. They've probably never been so close to perfection in their lives. I'm digging the attention. I'm striking poses. Then I notice all the men looking at me. (UH-OH) And the kids (crap)

I quickly check my fly to see if I'm exposed...I aint. But flowing down my leg is massive amounts of teal dye from my new swim togs. I HAVE TEAL GREEN LEGS!!! I AM A DORK!!! A TEAL COLORED SKINNY SUNBURNED IDIOT!!!

No matter how cool I really am there is no way to translate it to the thousands of people at Blizzard Beach. I rush to the lockers and put on my jeans.

I read the tag on the inside of my teal green swim shorts: WASH BEFORE WEARING.

It took about three days for me to get the dye off my legs and other things.

Moral of the story?
Never ever go swimming at Blizzard Beach while other people are there.

PS:
About a year or so later I had to have surgery on my leg and the doctor told me to wear shorts during the operation. I slipped into my Teal Fighting Suit. They ended up soaked in blood. Someday I'll make up a neat story about how I got all bloody at Typhoon Lagoon.

Is my total hatred of the New York Yankees irrational?

Nope.

Halloween

Do you remember when you were a kid and you couldn't wait for Halloween?

Sometime in the summer you'd start thinking about what might be the coolest costume ever.

Maybe a pirate or vampire? Superman or Batman? A hobo. A witch or the Frankenstein monster? Something cool. Sometimes your Mom would help you make the costume. Halloween was the best.

Except for the douchebag parents who made their kid dress up as a German Shepard. You know and I know that this kid got his ass kicked.

Often.

Today's handwriting lesson

Let's get right to it. The capital cursive Q is retarded. You know it. I know it. It looks like the number 2. Nobody EVER uses it when handwriting a letter, yet it still exists. When you handwrite a letter you do what I do...you print the capital Q and then use cursive for the rest of the word.

What kinda idiot invents something as stupid as the capital Q?

The capital cursive Q is clearly the transsexual of all letters.

Dude...you're a letter, not a number. Nobody likes you. NOBODY. 2uit trying to be something you aint.

And don't get me started about always having to have the u close by at your side. Pussy. No other letter always has to have a u next to them. So why don't you just go and put on your little pink frilly dress and try hanging out with the numbers.

PS
The numbers think you're a jerk and really are sick of you trying to be like them. Especially 2. 2 is really, really pissed.

PPSS
There should be an Island of Misfit capital letters. You would be King. Or Queen. Actually you couldn't be Queen...you'd be 2ueen. I hate you.

Joey Shell is a douchebag

So I'm at the SHELL gas station yesterday and hear an announcement over the gas stations PA system notifying me and everyone else that air is free and all I have to do is ask.

What if I don't ask? I now need permission from Shell Oil Corp for free air? I don't think so.

I just kept breathing. Screw them.

And I'm not making this up....on the window was a banner proclaiming FREE AIR FRESHENER with purchase of 8 gallons of gas. So the free air they were offering before didn't smell good? Now why on earth would I want stinky air? Even if it's FREE it doesn't seem like something I'd want. The only time I'd want free stinky air is if I was bolted to a hunk of coral reef or something.

And I'm not making this up (channeling Dave Barry)...on the window of said gas station was another sign proclaiming FREE POPCORN with 8 Gallon purchase of gas. So this generous gas station was offering me free smelly air, free air freshener for their stinky air, and now free popcorn. Their entire offering of free stuff cost them 2 cents. And I have the privilege of paying $3.07 cents for a gallon of gas.

And why would I need their "FREE AIR FRESHENER" if I had their "FREE POPCORN"....Popcorn makes everything smell better.

Except brownies. Brownies smell wonderful without gas, without free air fresheners, and without free popcorn. Though I'm guessing popcorn baked inside of a brownie would as close to heaven as most of us will get.

I now want a brownie, some fried chicken, and maybe a Jack in the Box taco. And a soft pretzel.

This is the one about how to reuse a Target Department Store bag.

Target Department Stores are one of the finest chains in the USA. Large aisles, clean & well stocked, reasonable prices, not WalMart, good employees.

But is Target Department store trying to be helpful or do they think America is jammed with retards. I'm guessing the latter. Or is that the former?

Anyhoo....(don't ya just want to kill people that say anyhoo?)

On the side of an empty Target bag is listed '10 Ways To Reuse Your Target Bag'

1. Tiny Trashcan Liner
2. Doggy Duty
3. Water Balloon
4. Roadtrip Rubbish
5. Soggy Laundry
6. Ice Pack For Head Lump (this is the one that made Hoag show me the bag in the first place)
7. Toiletry Tote
8. Kitty Litter Liner
9. Tomorrow's Lunchbag
10. Care Package Padding.

Now those are all fine ideas....no brainers (don't ya hate when someone says something is a 'no brainer'?)....but I think we can do better.

11. Severed Hand Holder
12. Children's Halloween Mask (Rubber band not included)
13. Target The Happy Tramp Hand Puppet
14. Huge Condom with Handles With Nifty Bullseye Design.
15. Severed Foot Holder
16. Freezer Bag For A Baby if You're A Cannibal And Not All That Hungry.

17. Toenail Collection Closet Buddy.
18. Roadkill Microwavable Bag

Any other uses?

Fine Dining...Texas Style.

Back in the early 1980s my wife (Wifey) and I (me) took a few weeks off and drove from Boston to California. No real plan, no maps, no rush, 400 or so miles a day and then we'd just stay wherever we ended up. Everything was going nice. We were having fun.

Until that little restaurant in Texas.

We were in some crap Texas town way off the interstate when I saw the sign that said Fried Chicken. You always stop when you see a sign that says Fried Chicken. Always. Especially if its a neon sign that blinks :FRIED CHICKEN: :FRIED CHICKEN:

So we go in and take a seat, the waitress (Flo) gives us our menus (not that I needed one with the Fried Chicken sign outside)...and then we start looking around. The place is filled with wannabee cowboys and douchebags....even some douchebag cowboys. And they all notice me and my long hair. A bit too long for their douchebaggy cowboy way. I'm nervous. Wifey is nervous...but they have fried chicken so we risk our lives.

Our waitress (Flo) brings us our food. OH MY GOD. What was on the plate was NOT fried chicken. I'm pretty sure it was a fried dog leg. A large fried dog leg. We're talking Golden Retriever, maybe a fried Black Lab. It was HUGE. And fried. And not chicken. Unless in Texas the chickens are as big as huge dogs (it's possible) And all the cowboys just watched us as Flo put down the plates. They knew. They've done it before.

We decide not to eat the fried dog leg. We also decide not to make a fuss and send it back.

I quietly tell Wifey to just get up and go to the car and start it...I'll be right out. I throw some money on the table (including a please don't follow us and kill us tip) run out to the car and drive off.

Damn. I really wanted fried chicken. And mashed potatoes. Gravy. Maybe some biscuits. Big glass of cold milk. Nice wedge of chocolate cake.

I want fried chicken right now. For breakfast. In Massachusetts.

Rules of the Catholic Church I've broken

I'm not Catholic but I love breaking their rules.


1. I've coveted my neighbor's kite.

2. I've eaten cheese on Tuesday

3. I once said 4 Hail Marys in my 'retard' voice

4. I once said 4 Heil Marys in my Hitler voice

5. I once went fishing on a day other than Friday

6. I once went a week with out drinking alcohol

7.I once (a whole bunch of times) voted against Ted Kennedy

8. I once refused to keep standing up and sitting down and mumbling something incoherent after the priest said something equally incoherent for no particular reason at church.

9. I've never given up anything on lent nor will I ever. I'm eaten' pizza while you chowderheads are starving. Losers.

Footnote:
Pound for pound Catholics are the most insane of all religions. It's true. Look it up on
www.I'm GladIAintCatholicCuzTheyAreCrazy.com

I felt like Puching.

For some reason I didn't have a car and needed transportation so I did what every 19 year old did when they needed transportation and wanted to be cool.

I bought a moped. A Puch® brand Moped

Nothing was ever less cool than me riding that Puch moped but it got me to work on time. I have a 'thing' about getting places on time. I'm always on time. Even if I have to ride a Puch moped.

So anyhow...

That summer about 20 of us went down the Cape for a week or two and I left my Puch at my apartment. I was nervous about leaving it inside with the gas fumes and stuff so I locked and chained it to a bush outside.

When I came home Ol' Puchey® was gone. So was the bush. SOMEONE STOLE THE FREAKIN BUSH!!!

About a week later the police called me and told me they found my moped torched and in the woods. They never found the bush.

Moral of the story?
Don't chain your moped to a bush when there are bush thieves around.

He Loved The Marines.

Years ago I had this friend named Dwayne. Nice guy, but dumb as can of retards. He said stuff like "baseballs aren't round" and claimed his dog could outrace a car. He always thought he was the King of the Pool and Leader of the Pack. He was neither the former or the latter. Or was he the latter and not the former? Maybe he was the former but not the latter. Whatever....he was an idiot.

So anyhow one night he fell asleep (passed out) and me and Hoag took a couple of Marks-A-Lot® permanent markers and wrote on Dwayne's back. Stupid stuff. Embarrassing stuff: I LOVE THE MARINES, I'M A CHUBBY FELLOW, and other ridiculous stuff. And then we told everyone never to mention it to him. We even told his Dad. Everyone agreed.

The next three weeks we made sure we just hung around the pool where we could just laugh behind his back. I think we even took a trip to the ocean so countless thousands of people could make fun of this dolt. He never knew. For three stinkin' weeks we just laughed and laughed and he never had a clue as to why.

Morals of the story?

1. Marks-A-Lot® brand permanent markers only last about three weeks on skin if you swim a lot.

2. Look at your back in a mirror once in a while.

3. The former is always more important than the latter (whichever one that is)

The Dance. The Girl. The Favor. The Horror. The Solution.

Back in Junior High (Middle School) me and Hoag took our ladies to a school dance. While they were in the girls room doing whatever girls do together in the girls room, me and Hoag were approached by Gail (real name)....here is what happened next.

Gail obviously excited and breathing heavy asks Hoag if he'll do her a favor. Hoag says sure not having any idea what is about to happen. Gail motions for the three of us to sit in this row of chairs. We do. She then puts her hand up her skirt, does some fishing around with belts or adhesive or whatever was used back then and balls up a used Kotex® brand maxi-pad and hands it to Hoag and asks if he'll get rid of it for her (why she didn't just go in the girls room we'll never know.) Seems Gail met a guy and she wants to have sex or something. She also know that the Kotex® brand maxi-pad is sure to be a turn off for said sex partner.

So now Hoag has this giant Kotex® in his hand and I'm not sure he even knows what it is (I have an older sister...he has a younger one)....so what does Hoag do? He hands the freakin' thing to me! I don't even like shaking someone's hand and now I'm holding a bloody used Kotex® brand maxi pad and the panic starts setting in. We start playing a round or two of hot potato and even that doesn't help our horror subside. We can't get caught with a used Kotex®. We just can't.

And then we spot the solution:

The teachers coat rack.

The balled up Kotex® fits perfect in the French teacher's coat sleeve.

Moral of the story:
If a girl asks for a favor at a dance and then puts her hand up her skirt there is a good chance she'll want you to dispose of her soiled feminine hygiene products.

If You Ever Participated In A Seance Or An Ouija Board Session With Me And The Hoag...

...it was us moving the little pointer thingy and making the doors close and the table rise and the candles blow out.

The Most Embarrassing Moment Ever.

I was in the 5th grade and had the most awesome of teachers ever...Mrs. Pratt.

One day I was leaving school and I turned around and looked at her and said:

"Bye Mom"

And then the rest of the class just started laughing at me. They laughed at me the next day also. And so on. And so forth.

Hug me.

The $3004.14 Tacos

About 12 years or so ago my Cousin Saul and I took our wives to Las Vegas. We ate in great restaurants, stayed in fantastic hotels, saw some fairly decent shows, won lots of money.

And had $3004.14 tacos.

You see, I love Jack in the Box tacos. 69 cents each and filled with a touch of heaven. We were out driving by the Hoover Dam on the outskirts of Vegas when I started craving those wonderful Jack Tacos. I had to have them. I had to have then NOW! So we drove around and finally spotted a Jack in the Box and I ran in....while I was devouring six of those spicy puppies our wives spotted a jewelry store across the street. Saul's wife spent about $2500.00 on a diamond ring and my wife spent about $500.00 on non-diamond rings.

$3004.14 tacos I still love you and you were worth every penny.

The Best Seat In The House

Me and The Hoag always went to the movies and as kids and adults we've always been a bit obsessive about where we sit. We hated getting in late and having crappy seats up front or in the middle behind some douchebag. Hated it.

So very early on (age 13) The Hoag took matters into his own hands. We discussed what the best seats in the house were (unlike a concert, at a movie you don't want to be in the front row)....and then The Hoag takes out his knife (non-switchblade variety) and proceeds to hack up and just totally rip the stuffing out of his "seat"....He got it down so that seat was nothing but springs and a cushioned back.

From that day forward no matter how late we were for the show, that seat and the one next to it were always empty and just waiting for us....cuz who on earth would want to sit on springs?

The Hoag. That's who.

Yag A Zoo Zee, Yag A Zoo Zee, Yag A Zoo Zee ZIM!

Back when I was about 5 or 6 years old I had three evil step brothers and my own evil real brother. Sometimes the three oldest could be pretty mean. And evil. They used to force me to give them money or do their chores (we called them chores back then)...

So anyhow this one time they asked me for my money and I said no. They told me if I didn't give them the money the Boogeyman would get me. And then they really started playing up how mean and vicious the Boogeyman was. How scary he was. And what he did to children. I was probably crying at this stage as I wasn't a big fan of the Boogeyman. They repeated that if I gave them money they would protect me from the Boogeyman. I sobbed: "BUT I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY!!!! Is there anything else I could do to keep the Boogeyman away?"

They turned down the lights and pulled closed the curtains and told me that the Yag-A-Zoo-Zee dance might help. The Yag-A-Zoo-Zee dance was performed in counterclockwise fashion around the room with hard stomping with a very Zombie like monotone. I had to circle the room (a very large room that was built over the garage) five times. It was pitch black. Hands would grab my legs as I circled the room stomping out Yag-A-Zoo-Zee, Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee-ZIM,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee-ZAM! Tears streaming down my face until I finished...over and over agian. Scared to death. Until finally the Boogeyman was forever gone.

But I always remembered him.

Then about 3 years ago I'm watching Nick at Nite with my kids and an episode of Bewitched was on and sure enough one of Samantha's wacky relatives was singing (chanting?) Yag-A-Zoo-Zee, Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee-ZIM,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee,Yag-A-Zoo-Zee-ZAM!



Moral of the story:
TV writers hide in kids rooms to get story ideas.

I think Hitler had mental problems.

So after a Sunday of volunteer work at the Children's Burn Center (not really) I went home and had dinner and just started watching tv....flipping through the channels I stumbled upon a Hitler Documentary.

What I saw and heard has forever changed my views on Hitler....I'm sure it will change yours also.

The documentary stated that Adolf Hitler wouldn't let photographs be taken of him with his hands in his pockets (really).

What a douchenburg!

Closed Until Monday

For repairs or something.

Sharpie, you're dead to me.

Do you know what a Sharpie is? It's a permanent ink marking pen. They're awesome. Or were.

On the side of the pen its states:

NOT FOR LETTER WRITING.

What kinda lame warning is that? Why can't I write letters with it? Is it a law? Will I get cancer?

How To Survive The Korean Missle Crisis.

Buy Haliburton stock now.

Free Stuff.

Do you ever notice when you're driving down the street and there is something in front of someone's house with a big sign that says FREE?

Usually it's something big that the person doesn't need anymore.... A refrigerator, a desk, a treadmill, computer monitors, TVs, maybe that recliner that looked oh so great in the 1980s. The people aren't giving it away FREE because they're nice...they're giving it away because they don't want the hassle of bringing it to the landfill site.

So whenever my pal Hoagy sees that stuff by the side of the road and has room in his car, he just takes the sign that reads FREE. At one point he had nine of those FREE signs.

He's thinking of putting them up on ebay.

The gray cat, circa 1970

My sister adored cats. Always had a bunch of them and treated them better than most people treated their own kids. My brother and I liked cats also. But probably not as much.

So one morning my brother and I woke up early and noticed that the gray cat (Grays) was dead. We knew Sis would freak out when she saw him dead, so we did what any caring brothers would do....we put the cat in a sitting position (rigor mortis was just starting), put a book in his lap, and a cigarette in his mouth, and then waited for Sis to wake up. The cat looked pretty sophisticated sitting there just a reading and a smoking.

She came out about four hours later and the cat was as stiff as a board just sitting there with the Gideon's and a Marlboro. She picked him up and the cat remained in the sitting position with his paws still clutching the book.

I don't think she ever knew she had a cat that could read.


Good times.

Happy In Depends® Day.

It'll happen to us (you)....you know people it's happened to. A parent. A grandparent. A friend. At some point someone decided an adult diaper would be best and at that point life was pretty much over. You have no control over the one thing in life you really want control over. And that has to stink. So to speak.

Here's how I'm gonna beat it:

Sometime this year, maybe at the neighborhood wine tasting, maybe at the store, possibly on buddy night, maybe Christmas Eve with family, could even be at the annual camping trip, but sometime while I still have control and a brain I'm gonna wear an adult diaper (Depends® brand) for a full day.

If you notice me just standing there with a dopey smile you'll know what I'm doing.

Happy Independence Day!

Bad Ring Tones

Why do people want 'fancy' ring tones for their cell phones?

Don't you get embarrassed when the phone rings and 'We Are The Champions' blares out and everybody turns around and sees what a loser you are? How about the douchebag that actually has a Bob Segar Old Time Rock N' Roll ring tone? Or O' Canada? Maybe a ring tone by an American Idol performer (Oh god...just shoot me before I hear a Taylor Hicks ring tone)

And some people (you know who you are) actually pay money for a trendy ring tone. The record companies are making a huge percentage of their profits by selling ring tones, which tells me the world is filled with way too much money, way too much spare time, and way too many douchebags.

Clever ring tones should never, EVER be used by people over the age of say 17 or so.

My phone rings like a phone. So should yours.

Confess your ring tone here. And if you don't confess it, I'll just assume it's the theme to Gilligan's Island or something by Travis Twitt or something. Loser.

Imagine if you resembled Chazz Palminteri....

...and liked hats. You'd look something like this.