Hello, Surf Reporters! Sorry I’ve been away for a few days, but I needed to take care of some stuff. My life was a chaotic mess, and I had to bring some order to it. My OCD was flaring-up, and it was not pretty. I was about to lose my goddamn mind.
So, I took a vacation day on Wednesday, and spent almost five days trying to get a handle on things. It was early to bed, early to rise, no alcohol, and almost every waking moment spent doing something productive. I was in bad need of a reboot, and feel a lot better now. Much, much better.
Here’s a sales page I designed (with a little help from a friend), for Crossroads Road. Eventually I plan to have a large block at the top of the WVSR sidebar – where the notice for A Convenience Story now resides. It’ll lead folks to this new sales page, and hopefully the purchase of an inexpensive, yet hilarious, novel. Ahem.
And speaking of inexpensive… I’ve temporarily dropped the price on the electronic versions of the book to an insane 99 cents. That’ll be in effect until June 10. One of the benefits of this self-publishing deal is that you can easily play around with pricing, to see what works and what doesn’t. Some people have had great success at 99 cents, so I thought I’d give it a whirl for a couple of weeks. We’ll see how it goes.
If you know any fence-sitters or hemmers and hawers, please let them know that now’s the time…
Also, I bought a bus ticket to New York City, and will be leaving early Friday morning. I’m going there to meet with some folks (purposely vague) about the marketing of my book. It should be an interesting day. I’ll also be having lunch with my agent, to discuss the next project. I need to remain on this “always productive at all times” jag, and cause some big changes. I ain’t kidding. As my spiritual adviser, Paul Westerberg, once said, I’m unsatisfied.
But enough of that crapola…
You guys will be happy to know that we’ll be having “visitors” twice during the coming weeks. Nancy and the gang will be stopping in for brief visits on their way to Canada, and on their way back home. During one of those weekends we’ll be going to Knoebels with them. And man, that should lead to some great stories…
Last time, Nossy ate a wide swath through that park, and threw an animated hissy-fit because Nancy distracted him, and caused his funnel cake to cool off before he could finish it. “I like my funnel cake piping hot!!” he shrieked, before snorkeling it down, storming off in a huff, and buying another one.
He also ate at least one pickle on a stick, and nearly every other food item for sale there. And afterward, when we were back at our house, Eninen complained that Knoebels is far too expensive. Ha!
I’ll be making the new updates available only to Surf Report VIPs. And you guys know who you are…
On Sunday I was talking with somebody (also purposely vague) who told me he discovered a tick on his scrotum. He took a pair of tweezers and tried to pull the thing out, but it wouldn’t let loose. And he said, “Man, you’d be surprised how far you can stretch a scrotum. I’d say there was a good six to eight inches of play.”
On Saturday I took my blood pressure at one of those self-serve stations, at Sam’s Club. Yep, 137/68. Not bad, huh? Last time I had my cholesterol checked it was “normal,” as well. How is this possible?
I don’t know, but every time I use one of those public squeezin’ cuffs, it makes me think of the scene in Dawn of the Dead where some guy is using a blood pressure machine in a mall, and can’t get his arm out when the zombies are bearing down on him. So he starts dragging the entire apparatus across the floor. Yeah, it didn’t end well for that poor son of a bitch…
Wonder how many people get false high readings because of that association?
And speaking of freaky movies, Toney and I watched Black Swan on Saturday night. It was interesting, but I can’t begin to understand what the hell happened. Well, maybe I can begin to understand, but I’d probably be way off in the end. Did you see it? What are your thoughts? I think I hated it, but it’s possible that I really liked it. I’m just not sure.
And finally, I was told a story about one of my cousins, who was reportedly driving through Chicago on a major interstate highway, and got a powerful shit cramp. He supposedly pulled his truck to the side of the road, jumped from behind the wheel, shuffled backwards toward the guard rail while ripping his pants down, and blasted diarrhea deep into the scrub brush. I was told this happened in the city, during the middle of the day, under bright sunlight.
Yeah, and it might very well be exaggerated, or a full-blown fabrication. The source is highly questionable… But I’d like to turn that into our Question of the Day, anyway. In the comments section, please tell us your stories about someone that needed to get to a bathroom RIGHT NOW. It can be about you, or somebody you know. It doesn‘t really matter, does it?
Many years ago, my mother was with a co-worker at the mall in Charleston. And after a hearty lunch at Steak Escape, the other woman said she needed to get to the ladies room without delay. They started riding up the escalator to the food court, and the woman suddenly clutched her stomach and grunted, violently pitched forward, and shit her pantsuit.
And I was with a girlfriend once, on our way to a picnic at Hawk’s Nest, way up on top of some crazy mountain in WV. She said she had to pee, but there was no place to stop; we were out in the middle of nowhere, and she certainly wasn’t the type to just back up to a guard rail, like my cousin. Before it was over, she was howling and speaking in tongues, and eventually reached into our picnic basket and grabbed a bottle of Heinz ketchup. She put it between her legs, and was grasping the neck of that thing, like she trying to bring an airplane in for a crash landing. Man, I’ve never heard such caterwauling…
I can’t think of too many personal stories. During a high school class in eleventh grade I needed to visit a urinal — with a Biblical urgency — but the teacher (a woman who hated me with every fiber of her being) said no. So, I went back to my desk, and squirmed for a few minutes. Finally, it reached a point where it actually hurt, deep in my abdomen. So, I got up and left the room. The teacher was screeching at me as I exited, but that was the least of my worries. I Charlie Chaplin-waddled to the bathroom, and found sweet relief. For something like three minutes.
And when I returned to the classroom, the old bitch said, “What are you on?!” Right in front of everybody, announcing that I must certainly be funky on the junk. You know, because I had to pee real bad. She was the second worst teacher I ever encountered, and I knew a bunch of ‘em.
Now it’s your turn. Please use the comments section below to tell us your desperate-for-a-toilet stories, or to chime in on any of the other stuff in this ridiculous update.
And I’ll be back in the middle of the night on Monday (early Tuesday morning).
Have a great holiday, boys and girls!