Month: December 2013

There is nothing more white trash than a guy holding a beer with a sleeveless shirt on yelling “I thought this was America!”  I know because I have done this multiple times.

If you want to win a singing competition on TV, being a 16-21 year old girl puts you in first before a note is sung.  Girls that watch the show will vote for you…and perverts.  Lots of perverts.

I think my lady found a dead flea in the house.  I have been itching for an hour now.

If you are watching the History Channel, here are the percentages of what you’re watching.  30% Hitler/Nazis.  25% Alaska based reality show, 15% Pawn Stars.  Fill in the rest with terrorism stuff or Bible conspiracy shows.

I bought a McFlurry at McDonald’s when it was 19 degrees outside.  Not because I wanted ice cream, but because I felt guilty about what I did to their bathroom.  I had to buy something.

In the market for a new fridge?  Make sure you are ready for a thrill ride.  My fiancee and I went to get one last Monday, it seemed simple.  Every one in the market was 40% off and there are a ton of options, like ones with water dispensers and ones without.  That’s really about the only option.  Some are big, some are not, but they all have freezers and refrigerator sections.  Oh, we did decided on a smudgeproof finish, since I have OCD and greasy fingerprints all over the front would drive me to an asylum.

My fiancee is the type of person who will look at 77 refrigerators before narrowing it down to 10, then form a subcommittee, have a meeting, and eventually pick one after hours of deliberation.  I am the type of person who will buy one 12.5 seconds after walking in the door.  I make a lot of bad decisions, in case you haven’t guessed.  Amazingly, we found one pretty quickly and made the purchase.  Once all the paperwork was done, the salesman told us, oh by the way, it wasn’t in stock.  Details, details.  After all, we only told you we were sans fridge.  No hurry, I like warm beer, spoiled meat and eating cans of soup for every meal.  Idiot.  We ended up buying the floor model for a big discount.

The next part was fresh also.  They couldn’t give us a delivery time.  That makes sense.  You know, I have 46 days off a year, so I’ll just call off the whole week, it’s no big deal.  Oh wait, I don’t.  Give me a window, dummies.  After 15 more calls, we found out Friday was the big day.  Until Friday, when they called and cancelled.  They got a dose of double wrath from my lady and ended up bringing it at 9 pm Friday night.  It wasn’t a hassle at all, we just had to shovel the driveway three times to keep it clear, I got sprayed by the water line, they lost our screws for the handle (we found them in the street on Sunday), and oh yes, it was on lock mode, so we spent some time figuring out how to turn it on (that is somewhat important, I’ve heard).

In summation, I have decided to withhold the name of this assbag company, because I may have cursed and yelled some more yesterday and we are getting a cornucopia of goodies to make up for it and I don’t want to screw that up yet.  The good news is that we have a working fridge again and I don’t have to keep my beer in the snow.  The bad news is that my body probably is working on a blood clot from all the anger that surged through my veins.  I think it’s a fair trade.

I think the enduring image of Christmas for most people is a kid losing his or her mind running to a tree lined with gifts.  It is magical to watch the pure joy…or sad to see pure greed take over an innocent child.  It is usually the best day of the year for all kids.  Then you get old.

At some point, you start getting stuff you need, not stuff you want.  It’s hard to act like it’s fun to get dress shirts for work.  Wait, are those matching socks?  It’s a Christmas miracle!  The bad thing is if no one buys me these things, I am wearing the same shirts and socks I got in 2001.  I just threw out a pair of socks that had no heels for the last six months.  I not only had them, I wore them and washed them at least 14 times before I finally gave up on them.  You don’t want see how bad my underwear is.  If everyone was like me, the underwear biz would be getting a bailout from the government.

Even more depressing is when I get the “Your body is falling apart, here’s this!”  Gym memberships, Rogaine foam, and the like.  I got a nose hair trimmer recently and have got use from it.  Sure, a PS4 is fun, but it won’t help you when you have black hair curling out of your nose.  Then again, if I had a PS4, I wouldn’t have to leave the house for a while…

 

I got home from the holiday travels last Saturday night and my refrigerator took a dump.  Not literally, that would be strange.  I guess the positive is that with Black Friday and Cyber Monday and Small Business Saturday and Wacky Wednesday and whatever other made up bullshit marketing campaigns are going on is that appliances are cheap.  The bad is that I have no cold beer and my food options are limited.  Especially the beer.

With this in mind, I have been eating lunch on the fast food circuit for a few days.  I had to run a delivery and thanks to a weird exit, I wound up in a part of town where the only place to eat was a Long John Silver’s.  I remembered as a young lad eating the delicious crispy fryer leavings and hushpuppies.  Why not?  It’s probably been 12 years or more.  I couldn’t discern the fish from the chicken and wound up dipping my chicken in tartar sauce.  None of this mattered as the hot grease pocket under the fried surface burnt my mouth beyond recognition.

I then tried the deep fried ball of batter that is a hushpuppy and the moisture immediately was sucked from my body like a sponge full of fatness and heart disease.  My diet (yes, I realize the irony) Pepsi was gone in two gulps and did nothing to quench my burning thirst.  The rest of the day was filled with chugging water and depression mixed with regret.  I think next time I’ll just eat an ashtray or roadkill so I feel better afterwards.

Since I moved in with my lady, I have put my condo up for sale…or rent until that day comes.  I had a couple people look at it this weekend.  One guy texted me to get my address, he came in, checked out the place, asked a lot of questions, etc.  It went well, he and his family left and I took the time to text my fiance.

“Love you!”

Then I realized I had just texted the wrong person.  I told the gentleman who was looking at my condo that I loved him.  Hmm, well this isn’t awkward at all.  “Wrong text, sorry!”  Can you really undo that?  Probably not.  Who knows, maybe this help push him over the edge.  “You know, I liked the vaulted ceilings and the garden tub was nice…but it’s that personal touch that sold me on your place!”  Yay!  Or he says who in the blue hell is this weirdo, I’m changing my phone number.  That’s more likely.