This piece comes from the good people at medicalbillingandcoding.org (as sexy as it sounds) They care.
I'm sitting now but, I'll get up tomorrow and I'll ride my bike. And then I'll lie down. That's still safe, right?
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
What's left for me?
I like sitting. It's all I do. I'm crafting my life so I can someday be a "sit-down comedian." I wish I were better at it. No matter what I'm doing I'm looking for a place to sit- even when I'm sitting. There's got to be a better place to sit. Is it worth getting out of my seat to go sit somewhere else? You have to weigh the benefits. Regardless you should alway know your options. Every day is about sitting at point A, to sitting at point B. I'm always on the lookout for the perfect chair. So this next bit of health art propaganda makes me sad.
This piece comes from the good people at medicalbillingandcoding.org (as sexy as it sounds) They care.
I'm sitting now but, I'll get up tomorrow and I'll ride my bike. And then I'll lie down. That's still safe, right?
This piece comes from the good people at medicalbillingandcoding.org (as sexy as it sounds) They care.
I'm sitting now but, I'll get up tomorrow and I'll ride my bike. And then I'll lie down. That's still safe, right?
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Back on the Bike!
After the Gulf Oil Spill, I had a hard time finding the funny. Where was the comedy of devastating environmental and economic damage? I had to stop and consider my part in the catastrophe. Is there any way that I can make the spill about me? Could the problem be my need for gas in my hybrid SUV? I posted my disgust with myself, and you, last year. (I've made it about you too, now. You're welcome.) Perhaps things like that would be less likely if we didn't use so much oil. Maybe if I rode my bike that's been gathering dust in my living room for 5 years. I fixed the inner tubes last week. Dug up the bike clothes this week. Tightened up the reflectors and mirrors and, inspected all of my gear.
Today I went for a ride. The plan was, and still is to ride my bike to school at least once a week. It’s only about 4 miles. I had intended to ride to school today for a math lab with Roger at noon. (Algebra is still a little fuzzy.) Alas, I was still in bed at 11:30 so I didn’t get out of the apartment until 2:30- only an hour and a half after the lab was over.
Regardless I took the bike to the Post Office, a couple of blocks from school, where I have moved my P.O. box. Not too difficult at first, still I had to think a lot from the start. I think riding a bike requires a lot more thought than any motorized transportation. You have to watch cracks, holes, glass and of course the cars. They tend to stalk you just a little. I don’t have my speed yet and my knees hurt when I’m not careful. However, the area is pretty flat on the whole, especially when you’re traveling east-west. I had been on the road less than a minute when I heard a tiny clank and looked down to see something bouncing on the ground. I turned around to see if a part had fallen of the bike. It turned out to be the key to my Kryptonite lock. I had put the key in the lock about a year ago so that I could find it when I decided to ride again. What a pain that would have been if I hadn’t gone back to check that out. The ride was mostly uneventful until the end. Except for being crowded a couple of times by cars. I’m fairly sure that if I’m killed on a ride it will be by someone trying to send a text.
I remembered a lot. Asserted my position. I rode predictably. Had to take a detour or two when I was out of position to make a left turn and lacking the burst of speed to compensate.
Went from the Post office to the Bank at Ventura and Laurel Canyon. From there, I headed home. Ventura was jammed on the way home so I had no real trouble keeping pace with cars. I went down Whitsett to get away from all the traffic. As I worked my way left behind a car to make a left turn onto Woodbridge, things got hairy. A van was stopped ahead in the left opposing lane waiting to make a left in at the intersection in front of us. Unknown to the driver I was following in the Accord, there was a car behind the Van in the right lane traveling on its merry way. I could see it because I had moved to the left later in the sequence of events. I also had a height advantage from being on a bike. I had prior knowledge that probably no one else had. Regardless, the driver of the Accord, without being able to see into that lane decided to just go for it, starting her left turn from a looooong way back, which is probably what saved her. The big old Lincoln, maybe a Mark VI of my mother’s era, slammed on the breaks locking up the front wheels and skidding a couple of feet to the left, and the Accord gunned it to get through without a collision. You could hear parts of the old Lincoln clanking and straining from the sudden exertion. They probably came within a foot of each other. I’d bet there was some damage to their suspension. The two geezers seem pretty stunned but, straightened out and I guess went on their way. I, still with my better visibility, looked past the van to be sure the coast was clear, made my left through the stinky cloud of tire smoke and rode home. The Accord turned up the nearest alley. I don’t know if it was to hide or that was the destination. I would certainly want to hide if I was she. I’m pretty sure she was talking on her phone as I passed. Hmmm…
There’s a lot that can go wrong on a bike and still I love it. The effort and danger, speed and exposure. I’ll have to stay on the smaller streets in hopes of not dying so soon. And smaller streets will make it easier to text while I ride. Still not sure if I’ve found the comedy.
Today I went for a ride. The plan was, and still is to ride my bike to school at least once a week. It’s only about 4 miles. I had intended to ride to school today for a math lab with Roger at noon. (Algebra is still a little fuzzy.) Alas, I was still in bed at 11:30 so I didn’t get out of the apartment until 2:30- only an hour and a half after the lab was over.
Regardless I took the bike to the Post Office, a couple of blocks from school, where I have moved my P.O. box. Not too difficult at first, still I had to think a lot from the start. I think riding a bike requires a lot more thought than any motorized transportation. You have to watch cracks, holes, glass and of course the cars. They tend to stalk you just a little. I don’t have my speed yet and my knees hurt when I’m not careful. However, the area is pretty flat on the whole, especially when you’re traveling east-west. I had been on the road less than a minute when I heard a tiny clank and looked down to see something bouncing on the ground. I turned around to see if a part had fallen of the bike. It turned out to be the key to my Kryptonite lock. I had put the key in the lock about a year ago so that I could find it when I decided to ride again. What a pain that would have been if I hadn’t gone back to check that out. The ride was mostly uneventful until the end. Except for being crowded a couple of times by cars. I’m fairly sure that if I’m killed on a ride it will be by someone trying to send a text.
I remembered a lot. Asserted my position. I rode predictably. Had to take a detour or two when I was out of position to make a left turn and lacking the burst of speed to compensate.
Went from the Post office to the Bank at Ventura and Laurel Canyon. From there, I headed home. Ventura was jammed on the way home so I had no real trouble keeping pace with cars. I went down Whitsett to get away from all the traffic. As I worked my way left behind a car to make a left turn onto Woodbridge, things got hairy. A van was stopped ahead in the left opposing lane waiting to make a left in at the intersection in front of us. Unknown to the driver I was following in the Accord, there was a car behind the Van in the right lane traveling on its merry way. I could see it because I had moved to the left later in the sequence of events. I also had a height advantage from being on a bike. I had prior knowledge that probably no one else had. Regardless, the driver of the Accord, without being able to see into that lane decided to just go for it, starting her left turn from a looooong way back, which is probably what saved her. The big old Lincoln, maybe a Mark VI of my mother’s era, slammed on the breaks locking up the front wheels and skidding a couple of feet to the left, and the Accord gunned it to get through without a collision. You could hear parts of the old Lincoln clanking and straining from the sudden exertion. They probably came within a foot of each other. I’d bet there was some damage to their suspension. The two geezers seem pretty stunned but, straightened out and I guess went on their way. I, still with my better visibility, looked past the van to be sure the coast was clear, made my left through the stinky cloud of tire smoke and rode home. The Accord turned up the nearest alley. I don’t know if it was to hide or that was the destination. I would certainly want to hide if I was she. I’m pretty sure she was talking on her phone as I passed. Hmmm…
There’s a lot that can go wrong on a bike and still I love it. The effort and danger, speed and exposure. I’ll have to stay on the smaller streets in hopes of not dying so soon. And smaller streets will make it easier to text while I ride. Still not sure if I’ve found the comedy.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Beware of Comedy Dogs
I’m at my rich comedian friend’s house. He’s out of town, a few days in Amsterdam after a month in South Africa for the World Cup. The dogs are here at the house and I am their bitch. It's not so bad. It’s a nice house with free soft drinks and I like being alone, even though I’m not much alone most of the time, at least not as much as I’d like.
There are 4 dogs now. There used to be two. Dave is the geezer- a 12 year old black lab with some gray hair in his muzzle, walks with a limp and is possibly the dumbest dog in the history of dogs, even before senility. Dave is a total sweetie except when he gets confused and bites a contractor. Gretchen has been here about 2 and a half years. Bought from a pet store as a gift from Mr. Comedy's fiancee, she’s a young energetic Belgian Shepherd, and our relationship is, She Bites Me- mostly with love. Gretchen and I disagree as to which of us is actually Alpha dog. The 2 newcomers are Bella and Tyson. I think they are some kind of boxer/pit bull mix. Very nice fun smart dogs. And ripped! Like they lift the heavy weights at the dog park. They moved in about 2 months ago and seem right at home with Dave and Evil Gretchen.
They have been a good influence on Gretchen. They don’t bark at every bird and squirrel that enters the yard and she sees that she doesn’t have to either.
However she has demonstrated to them that it’s okay to bite me. With Gretchen as ringleader, there are times when I am being chewed by all three of the youngsters at once. As I wrestle the 3 beast trying to reestablish my role as Alpha, there comes the realization that they are trying to figure out exactly how to take me down, and eventually eat me. Clearly, they don't believe I’m feeding them enough.
They test joints and grips and pressure points. They rehearse ways to lure me into different rooms of the house. And they wait for the proper time. Maybe when their bowls are full and the treats are within reach on the counter. Maybe right before the dog walker takes them to the groomer to wash away the evidence of a massacre. They are always keeping an eye on me and whispering to each other.
For now they are content with dry dog food. But for how long?
There are 4 dogs now. There used to be two. Dave is the geezer- a 12 year old black lab with some gray hair in his muzzle, walks with a limp and is possibly the dumbest dog in the history of dogs, even before senility. Dave is a total sweetie except when he gets confused and bites a contractor. Gretchen has been here about 2 and a half years. Bought from a pet store as a gift from Mr. Comedy's fiancee, she’s a young energetic Belgian Shepherd, and our relationship is, She Bites Me- mostly with love. Gretchen and I disagree as to which of us is actually Alpha dog. The 2 newcomers are Bella and Tyson. I think they are some kind of boxer/pit bull mix. Very nice fun smart dogs. And ripped! Like they lift the heavy weights at the dog park. They moved in about 2 months ago and seem right at home with Dave and Evil Gretchen.
They have been a good influence on Gretchen. They don’t bark at every bird and squirrel that enters the yard and she sees that she doesn’t have to either.
However she has demonstrated to them that it’s okay to bite me. With Gretchen as ringleader, there are times when I am being chewed by all three of the youngsters at once. As I wrestle the 3 beast trying to reestablish my role as Alpha, there comes the realization that they are trying to figure out exactly how to take me down, and eventually eat me. Clearly, they don't believe I’m feeding them enough.
They test joints and grips and pressure points. They rehearse ways to lure me into different rooms of the house. And they wait for the proper time. Maybe when their bowls are full and the treats are within reach on the counter. Maybe right before the dog walker takes them to the groomer to wash away the evidence of a massacre. They are always keeping an eye on me and whispering to each other.
For now they are content with dry dog food. But for how long?
Monday, December 21, 2009
My Beloved Washington Racist
For I don't know how may years, American indians have campaigned for the Washington Redskins to change the team name. They say the term "redskin" is an age old insult, racist and demeaning. I understood this since I used to watch Bonanza every night at 1 am back when I lived in DC 20 plus years ago. (The simple morality plays balanced out the night’s bong hits.) Not once in the many episodes did I hear Hoss Cartwright say "Come here you crazy redskin and let me hug your neck!" "Redskin" was not a term of endearment. Usually used by the evil rancher's racist son- The bad white man. He'd say, "Who're you gonna believe, me or this filthy redskin?" The context told you all you need to know. Little Joe would never call his Indian friend something like that, and he might punch you if you did.
At the time that Redskin quarterback Doug Williams was on his way to being named Super Bowl MVP, Native American activist tried to raise the profile of the "Redskin" issue by pointing out the significance of the 1st black quarterback to start a Super Bowl. Most fans didn't have time to make the somewhat strained connection and the controversy faded when the dozen or so Indians went home for dinner, while the rest of us got drunk and enjoyed the game. The issue slept but did not die. I'm a big fan of political correctness. It is a mark of an enlightened civilization that they at least make the effort not to indirectly offend many over their feelings for a few. Certainly there are examples of where political correctness has been misused causing people to suffer for relatively minor public errors. Of course, it's rare that anyone goes to jail for abusing your mama's heritage. Most folks walk away if they don’t like what you’re saying. Some people have lost their jobs- some rightfully. That's how the marketplace works.
I understand that stereotypes serve a purpose. They save a lot of time and make it easier to tell jokes, and there's a kernel of truth in most of them. It is however, beneficial to society that people judge each other as individuals instead of relying on stereotypes. And really, most of us don't care what you think of those people anyway. History might lead you to assume that blacks would be a natural ally for the Indians in this dispute. You might think that African American players would be able to sympathize with Native Americans over the use of racial slurs. You would think someone would speak out. Of course these African Americans had six and seven figure paychecks they didn't want to jeopardize by calling "The Man", a racist- even if The Man is a racist, he doesn't like hearing it from you. And honestly, how many of us are willing to risk our newfound wealth and social status, to make a dwindling race of people feel better about their public image?
I doubt that black America, or much of white America would tolerate a basketball team called the “Darkies,” or a baseball team called the “Honkeys.” Yet, we allow this kind of public mockery of American Indians because they are so few, so poor and, their homes far from ours. It is a sad double standard. If we change the name to the Leroys or the Ginnys, would people get the point.
The NFL Regular season is nearly done, which means the end of the season for my home team, the Washington Redskins. I was born in DC and raised a Redskin Fan. My family watched the games every week during football season. We wore the jersey numbers of our favorite players: Kilmer, Jurgeson, Larry Brown, Charley Taylor. Later Theisman, Riggins, Monk, Darryl Green, Doug Williams, Gary Clark, Mark Rypien... (That's it. There weren't any more.) In '88 I moved to LA and soon my 'Skins began the long era of Dan Snyder sucks. The Redskins are the 2nd most valuable team in the NFL according to Forbes Magazine. Number 1 in revenue. Apparently people pay for the image in spite of all the losing the team has done over the last decade. It could cost the Redskins a huge chunk of cash to change the name- unless they make a huge chunk by selling new merchandise to the fans. Sometimes doing the right thing costs money. Sometimes it turns a profit. Ben Cartwright would take that risk.
And my friends from Cleveland- don't think you're off the PC hook. We’ve all seen the Indians and Chief Wahoo. That's old news. As Drew Carey used to say, "They shoulda fought harder." The question that's nagging at me, Cleveland: What's a "Brown"? Huh?... My friend, Hoss and I want to know.
At the time that Redskin quarterback Doug Williams was on his way to being named Super Bowl MVP, Native American activist tried to raise the profile of the "Redskin" issue by pointing out the significance of the 1st black quarterback to start a Super Bowl. Most fans didn't have time to make the somewhat strained connection and the controversy faded when the dozen or so Indians went home for dinner, while the rest of us got drunk and enjoyed the game. The issue slept but did not die. I'm a big fan of political correctness. It is a mark of an enlightened civilization that they at least make the effort not to indirectly offend many over their feelings for a few. Certainly there are examples of where political correctness has been misused causing people to suffer for relatively minor public errors. Of course, it's rare that anyone goes to jail for abusing your mama's heritage. Most folks walk away if they don’t like what you’re saying. Some people have lost their jobs- some rightfully. That's how the marketplace works.
I understand that stereotypes serve a purpose. They save a lot of time and make it easier to tell jokes, and there's a kernel of truth in most of them. It is however, beneficial to society that people judge each other as individuals instead of relying on stereotypes. And really, most of us don't care what you think of those people anyway. History might lead you to assume that blacks would be a natural ally for the Indians in this dispute. You might think that African American players would be able to sympathize with Native Americans over the use of racial slurs. You would think someone would speak out. Of course these African Americans had six and seven figure paychecks they didn't want to jeopardize by calling "The Man", a racist- even if The Man is a racist, he doesn't like hearing it from you. And honestly, how many of us are willing to risk our newfound wealth and social status, to make a dwindling race of people feel better about their public image?
I doubt that black America, or much of white America would tolerate a basketball team called the “Darkies,” or a baseball team called the “Honkeys.” Yet, we allow this kind of public mockery of American Indians because they are so few, so poor and, their homes far from ours. It is a sad double standard. If we change the name to the Leroys or the Ginnys, would people get the point.
The NFL Regular season is nearly done, which means the end of the season for my home team, the Washington Redskins. I was born in DC and raised a Redskin Fan. My family watched the games every week during football season. We wore the jersey numbers of our favorite players: Kilmer, Jurgeson, Larry Brown, Charley Taylor. Later Theisman, Riggins, Monk, Darryl Green, Doug Williams, Gary Clark, Mark Rypien... (That's it. There weren't any more.) In '88 I moved to LA and soon my 'Skins began the long era of Dan Snyder sucks. The Redskins are the 2nd most valuable team in the NFL according to Forbes Magazine. Number 1 in revenue. Apparently people pay for the image in spite of all the losing the team has done over the last decade. It could cost the Redskins a huge chunk of cash to change the name- unless they make a huge chunk by selling new merchandise to the fans. Sometimes doing the right thing costs money. Sometimes it turns a profit. Ben Cartwright would take that risk.
And my friends from Cleveland- don't think you're off the PC hook. We’ve all seen the Indians and Chief Wahoo. That's old news. As Drew Carey used to say, "They shoulda fought harder." The question that's nagging at me, Cleveland: What's a "Brown"? Huh?... My friend, Hoss and I want to know.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Is that it?
I'm following the presidential election pretty closely and I wonder, is it over already? Has America made up it's mind? Has the election ended in the summer with the swimsuit competition? Have the candidates been defined: Cranky versus Hope? Where are the voters who would never vote for a half black man? I expected they'd show up in the polls by now. Are they really only the small percentage who would admit it over the phone? Have I overestimated the racism of the American public? Man, I hope so.
Of course, it's the 3rd of July. A lot can come up by November. Osama Bin Laden could be caught. (If he isn't already) Barack Obama might get his dick sucked by a campaign volunteer. John McCain might ride a bicycle. What if McCain really does have a black baby somewhere or, Obama has a 3/4 white one?
There will be debates and speeches, ignored by most of us. Everything we need to know will be in a campaign commercial, conveniently free of truth in advertising laws. Right now, McCain is pissed that someone questioned the importance of his military service. Obama blew him a kiss. Did that change anyone's vote? Anyone? Does anyone have a relevant question? Does anyone have time for an honest answer?
Do we really care about issues? Does America want "free trade"? Do we want to make the rich "pay their fair share"? Maybe we prefer our banks unregulated. Maybe being shot down over Vietnam is good executive experience.
Maybe by election day the "surge" will have clearly done it's job successfully occupying Iraq so that our troops will be home by Thanksgiving. If we can occupy one country in the Middle East, that will make us safer here. And if I can get through the airport without having to strip (which I used to do voluntarily), you've got my vote, John.
One is cool the other is old. That's good enough for real independents. What makes us independent is the DVR. Who looks best when I fast forward through their ad. I don't have time to watch guys argue about gas taxes and troop withdrawal. I do have time for Mad Men.
If one of them gets caught getting his dick sucked, I'll start paying attention again. I'm not convinced that either are what we need as president, however they are what the system gave us and, once again I forgot to run this year.
Of course, it's the 3rd of July. A lot can come up by November. Osama Bin Laden could be caught. (If he isn't already) Barack Obama might get his dick sucked by a campaign volunteer. John McCain might ride a bicycle. What if McCain really does have a black baby somewhere or, Obama has a 3/4 white one?
There will be debates and speeches, ignored by most of us. Everything we need to know will be in a campaign commercial, conveniently free of truth in advertising laws. Right now, McCain is pissed that someone questioned the importance of his military service. Obama blew him a kiss. Did that change anyone's vote? Anyone? Does anyone have a relevant question? Does anyone have time for an honest answer?
Do we really care about issues? Does America want "free trade"? Do we want to make the rich "pay their fair share"? Maybe we prefer our banks unregulated. Maybe being shot down over Vietnam is good executive experience.
Maybe by election day the "surge" will have clearly done it's job successfully occupying Iraq so that our troops will be home by Thanksgiving. If we can occupy one country in the Middle East, that will make us safer here. And if I can get through the airport without having to strip (which I used to do voluntarily), you've got my vote, John.
One is cool the other is old. That's good enough for real independents. What makes us independent is the DVR. Who looks best when I fast forward through their ad. I don't have time to watch guys argue about gas taxes and troop withdrawal. I do have time for Mad Men.
If one of them gets caught getting his dick sucked, I'll start paying attention again. I'm not convinced that either are what we need as president, however they are what the system gave us and, once again I forgot to run this year.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Yay! Celebrity Sex Tapes
There are rumors that a Lindsay Lohan sex tape exists somewhere. (If you've got a link, send it my way. I luv me some LiLo.) I'm more than happy to watch anyone's collection of celebrity sex tapes. I enjoy the candid moments- not just the sex. I do want to give this tip to you, my friends. Whether you are a celebrity or not, NEVER allow yourself to be photographed or video recorded having sex. I know how tempting is the desire to preserve the special moment of your 8th time receiving oral sex. Not something that happens every day. (I know it will be special for me.) Many of us wonder what we look like during the act. Are we making funny faces? Is our partner rolling their eyes? Many celebs take their videos to UCLA to have have science professors critique their technique. I'm often concerned about my efficiency- Is there an easier way to do this? Is all this sweat necessary? The desire to improve is certainly compelling.
The most important reason not to record is, you never know where the clips will end up. Your partner may claim they want to remember your night of love forever. Truth is, they need video because they don't expect to see you much longer. They claim that it is to be viewed only by the 2 lovers, and the camera operator. Ultimately, what good is video if you don't show it to somebody. A good Rule: Never do anything on video that you wouldn't want you're mother to see. Keep in mind that I don't know much about you're relationship with your mother so, you may have to substitute someone else's mother.
There are several video recordings of me in sexual encounters. We have the sex. The red light is on everything seems to be working. Next thing I know, she's dressed and out the door and the tape is gone. I've spent years in litigation trying to get the videos into public circulation. I've offered money. I've signed releases. The world wants to see me in action. Am I right, people? What's it gonna take?
Loyal readers- Tell us about your sex tapes. Where can we see them? What were you thinking?
BTW, my mother has Alzheimer's. If you could get her to watch a sex tape, she wouldn't recognize me anyway.
The most important reason not to record is, you never know where the clips will end up. Your partner may claim they want to remember your night of love forever. Truth is, they need video because they don't expect to see you much longer. They claim that it is to be viewed only by the 2 lovers, and the camera operator. Ultimately, what good is video if you don't show it to somebody. A good Rule: Never do anything on video that you wouldn't want you're mother to see. Keep in mind that I don't know much about you're relationship with your mother so, you may have to substitute someone else's mother.
There are several video recordings of me in sexual encounters. We have the sex. The red light is on everything seems to be working. Next thing I know, she's dressed and out the door and the tape is gone. I've spent years in litigation trying to get the videos into public circulation. I've offered money. I've signed releases. The world wants to see me in action. Am I right, people? What's it gonna take?
Loyal readers- Tell us about your sex tapes. Where can we see them? What were you thinking?
BTW, my mother has Alzheimer's. If you could get her to watch a sex tape, she wouldn't recognize me anyway.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
They Got My Peter Pan!
The FDA says to throw away certain jars of Peter Pan Peanut Butter because of possible salmonella contamination. I have 5 jars of Peter Pan. It is the only think I stockpile in such disproportionate amounts. Peanut butter and Jelly is my best recipe. My only recipe if you exclude cereal. I eat PBJs 3 or 6 times a week. I have three full jars and 2 half jars. (1 and a half jars at work) This is potentially devastating.
But wait! It's not ALL Peter Pan. Only jars with the lot number starting with 2111. What are the chances I'll even have one bad jar?- 100 PERCENT!!! ALL 5 FUCKING JARS!!! (deep sigh)
Wait a minute. I've been eating out of 2 of those jars for weeks, so they're safe. Still to throw away 3 jars of peanut butter seems just wrong. Maybe I'll offer them to the homeless. I'm sure many homeless are willing to gamble on intestinal discomfort for a few jars of creamy Peter Pan.
The worst part of this tragedy- I am no longer secure in the knowledge that these things only happen to other people. Other people get mugged, win the lottery, or find a finger in their salad. Other people get evicted from their apartments- No wait I did that. Other people watch Dr. Phil.- No. Me again. Other people fly coach. Other people die! Now I know it could someday be me. Will I ever truly be safe again? Reality has come to my door and now I mourn the loss of my innocence. The terrorist finally have won.
posted 2/16/7 http://blog.myspace.com/mrjohnniewalker
But wait! It's not ALL Peter Pan. Only jars with the lot number starting with 2111. What are the chances I'll even have one bad jar?- 100 PERCENT!!! ALL 5 FUCKING JARS!!! (deep sigh)
Wait a minute. I've been eating out of 2 of those jars for weeks, so they're safe. Still to throw away 3 jars of peanut butter seems just wrong. Maybe I'll offer them to the homeless. I'm sure many homeless are willing to gamble on intestinal discomfort for a few jars of creamy Peter Pan.
The worst part of this tragedy- I am no longer secure in the knowledge that these things only happen to other people. Other people get mugged, win the lottery, or find a finger in their salad. Other people get evicted from their apartments- No wait I did that. Other people watch Dr. Phil.- No. Me again. Other people fly coach. Other people die! Now I know it could someday be me. Will I ever truly be safe again? Reality has come to my door and now I mourn the loss of my innocence. The terrorist finally have won.
posted 2/16/7 http://blog.myspace.com/mrjohnniewalker
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