It pains me to announce this, but I’ve lost the luxurious fur-lined PO Box 4, in Olyphant. Yes, I had that thing for ten years or more, and now it’s gone. I went there yesterday, for the first time in a couple of months, and it was all locked-down. My key might as well have been a stick of Fruit Stripe gum.
The Olyphant post office used to be convenient, back when I was working my previous job. But now it’s very much out of the way. It was Box 4, though, and I didn’t want to give it up. It was such a low number, and everything…
I had a bad feeling, and was afraid I’d let it go too long between visits. It felt like my bill was probably past-due, and I hadn’t cleaned out the pizza coupons for a long, long time. And when I got there yesterday, my fears were realized.
I went to the counter, and they broke the news to me. I’d let it slip away from me. <sniff> Box 4 is no more.
It’s a shame, but at this point it was pretty much a coupon repository, and little else. I did still receive an occasional zine there, and that’s cool. But I guess I can fill out a change of address card, right?
It makes me kinda sad…
I ran a bunch of errands yesterday, getting things caught-up, etc. And that’s why there was no update. Sorry ’bout that. But my life had gotten out of hand during the previous week, and I needed to bring some order to it.
I finally got a haircut, for one thing, and it was hilariously overdue. I could barely hold my head up, because of the weight; I was on the verge of needing a neck brace.
The woman started in on my cranial disgrace with her clippers, and I was afraid they might catch fire. Everything was bogging down: the buzzing was changing tone, and cutting in and out. “Whew, this stuff’s thick!” she said. Heh.
Once again I was asked if I wanted my eyebrows “done.” And I don’t care for that. It’s an old man procedure, if there ever was one. But I gave her the go-ahead, and she tamed my wild Andy Rooney brows, or whatever. Again… sad.
I also had a hard copy of my “book” printed, and sent it off to Duff in New York. She’s going to read it, and pass it on to a couple of professional comedy writer friends, who’ve agreed to provide feedback. I’m looking forward to some opinions on the second draft.
I had lunch at Subway, and the place was lousy with Boy Scouts. Not little kids, either… high school aged Boy Scouts. They were all uniformed-up, with sashes and patches and the whole nine yards. And a too-large percentage of them were loud and obnoxious.
Don’t they take some kind of oath at the beginning of their meetings? I seem to remember doing that, but can’t recall if general douchebaggery is covered. Can anyone help me out with that?
A couple of these “scouts” went around collecting everyone’s plastic sandwich bags, blowing them up, and popping them. And for some reason, they believed this was funny. That’s gotta be a violation of the oath, right?
Then I went to Target, to buy Ivory soap and a new pair of sunglasses. A few days ago I was inside a post office, trying to mail some t-shirts, and ended up throwing a womanly hissy-fit and breaking my glasses.
There was an asshole with an accent in there, gumming up the works. I don’t know where he was from, possibly one of the eastern European countries, but it doesn’t really matter. He was mailing a letter, and asking roughly a million questions.
Can I get an email confirmation of delivery? How much does it cost to get a signed confirmation? How about insurance? Can I get my letter insured? And the person on this stamp? Who is the man? I do not know this man.
It went on and on, and as soon as the clerk started to answer one question, he’d interrupt with another. He was a one person question mill, and didn’t seem to care too much about the answers.
Finally I snapped, and shouted, “This is ridiculous!” and left in a dramatic fashion. And as I passed through the door, full of triumphant outrage, I smashed my sunglasses against the facing.
You know the arm that rests on top of your ear, and stabilizes the whole operation? One snapped completely off, but I continued wearing the glasses anyway. And with only the left arm, one lens was always radically higher than the other. It wasn’t an ideal situation.
So, I went to Target to get a replacement pair, but it was not to be. Their selection was surprisingly small, and everything was too expensive. For me, anyway. I’m not paying twenty bucks for a pair of cheap plastic sunglasses. What am I, a complete idiot?
I grabbed my soap and a Dean Koontz paperback, and went to the dollar store near our house. There, they had a whole rack of ESPN brand sunglasses (who the hell knows?) and I bought a decent-looking pair for a buck. Good enough… screw it.
By that time the Secrets were out of school, and I was on shuttle-bus duty. They’re fairly high-maintenance, and my car was full of various kids for an hour or more. Then I had to make part of dinner: the side dishes that went along with the chicken cooking in the Crockpot.
And that’s why I didn’t update the site yesterday… Is it a good enough excuse? I hope so, ’cause that’s all I got.
Please remember that I’ll be taking pre-orders for the new summer shirts, until next Friday only. If you’d like one, be sure to order soon. This is going to be a genuine limited edition, and I won’t be buying extras.
So, order today! Here’s your link.
I’ll leave you now with the Question of the Day: What would you like to be the name of your first album? It doesn’t matter if you’re not musical, or anything like that… We’re just playing around here. So, don’t be getting all literal ‘n’ shit.
The name of my first album will be Corndogs & Swamp Ass. And now it’s your turn. Use the comments link below.
And have a great weekend, boys and girls!
See ya next time.
Now playing in the bunker
Pre-order your summer WVSR shirt here!
Album Title: Bird lumps.
album title:
turd fedora
or holy crap inna bundt pan
I know what you’re saying about the eyebrows.
My ‘barber’ cuts mine as a matter of course now.
Usually we’re having a good laugh up until that point.
Then there’s just the buzzing of the clippers…
‘Nice Day for a White Pudding’
“Thick Piss”
“Tweeting is Gay” Ok, I’m done.
I would name my album “puke party” and every song would begin and end with a recording of someone vomiting.
Ok, wayyyyyy off topic but if your mom threw away your best porno mag wouldn’t that indicate that you have a few more of lesser quality that she didn’t throw out? So what’s the big deal? And define “best”. If best means chicks with dicks maybe you need to re-evaluate.
“Farting at the Dinner Table”
t-storm-Way to make us think. Very deep dude!
Oh, while I’m thinking about it, are you ever going to fix the clock on the comments? They’ve been off an hour for quite some time.
Once again many thanks to paMike for mentioning the Black Keys. That shit has been scratching an itch I was unaware of.
If I concentrate I can be done at work in an hour. Stupid internet.
so last saturday after almost punching a record store guy in the face I asked a bartender if he had any suggestions for music. I was buying my 17 yr old cousin some cd’s for graduation. He said The Black Keys, I high fived him because I already had that picked. Also picked, wowee zowee, Tim, the eisly brothers (RIP), the fine print, and a few others I’m to sober to remember.
Going to shit at work, then going to watch soccer.
http://www.slashfood.com/2010/06/11/world-cup-beer/
Oh! Listen to me! I’m on the stereo! The stereo!
I’m going to start a band called “The Chrome Buzzards” and my harmonica man is going to be a woman. I’ll always be dressed in a giant banana suit. And the name of our first album will be: “Breaking Two Camel Backs With the Same Stone”.
Maybe that’s a little wordy for an album title?
Valentin and WB in OH,
You can’t trust the Indians. You turn your back for one second and they’ll try to steal your land.
My album: “The Return of the Fishtown Gas-Passers.”
Three word excuse I’ll use tomorrow for tonight…
“I was drunk”.
t-storm,
A question of quality, harkening back several days. If Hall and Oats AND Jenna Jameson are on my album, does it suck TWICE as much, HALF as much, or do I need to apply some kind of differential equation to determine the suckiness quotient?
I’m just askin’.
jtb
t-storm and other calcs and quants,
I used the Korteweg–de Vries equation with Lax pairs (that would be Hall & Oats) and came up with a Boussinesq approximation that I interpret to mean, “There is no such thing as a perfect vacuum, but Jenna Jameson comes close.”
But I think I might have run a function backwards, and you know how painful that can be.
jtb
Hey, Jason…wouldn’t that be “Breaking Two Camel Backs With the Same STRAW”? Of course, you can use stones if you want….just saying…
Just out of curiosity, why do the comments keep going down on the commentator list? T-Storm was up to like 80 and now at 60…I’m not concerned, just curious.
Carol,
I think you have that mixed up with another famous saying: “You can’t make a straw purse out of a pig ear.”
I had a plate of thick bacon and a root beer for breakfast this morning. I was all over it like stink on rice.
I wonder if the other people in the Post Office laughed as much as I did over you smashing your glasses in your triumphant outrage. Thanks for the visual!
Also wondering why you don’t order your books from Amazon via your link? needing the instant gratification to sooth your embarrassment? I turned my husband on to your link (that sounds weird) and he ordered some books thru you a week or so ago.
Jason-You speak sooth my friend.
jtb-My head hurts from a small hangover, then I read about the Korteweg-ah-ma-bob and nearly split my skull laughing.
Brittney-I believe the comment counter is for the last thirty days. So t-storm may have been very chatty 30 some days ago and had a large number of comments fall off.
Welp, I gotta get back to work. You know what they say, all play and no work makes for ignorant bliss.
my first album would be called “Igneous Rock”
Album Title: Don’t Take A Seizure.
Album Title: Migraine Slut.
Jason, on June 12th, 2010 at 2:13 pm Said:
Valentin and WB in OH,
You can’t trust the Indians. You turn your back for one second and they’ll try to steal your land.
.
Hell yes, and they’ll steal your women too, so overall it’s about a break-even deal.
jtb
“Scott Baio Remembered…Songs He Loved”
“Cornholing for Jeezus”
“Welcome to the Bunghole”
“Geraldo and Val Kumar Go To White Castle” (with apologies to Brittney)
So I gotta do this medical thing called a Q-Sart test on Tuesday morning. The peeps who set up the test told me it involves coursing electricity through my body to see just how much I sweat. So I said, “Can I just assure you that repeatedly shocking me like a moth in a bug zapper will result in profuse sweating?” “Oh don’t worry,” they replied, “It’s relatively painless. And don’t use any deodorant for 48 hours prior to the test.” Oh swell. And right in the middle of a heat wave, no less. There’s probably another album title to be had in this pointless story, but the b.o. is presently overpowering my thought processes.
Gretchen,
Good luck on the QSART. Hope everything goes well. The University of Chicago has video of part of a test to prepare patients for the experience. Hope this helps.
Best wishes,
jtb
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiFfUnimUH4
Heavyglow
Check it out at Poor Man’s Gravy dot com.
I’m just glad I don’t live in California. It sounds like its gonna be pretty bad over there in September, and I would not want to be hit by one of those falling telephone poles.
Name of my first album: “Executable”
I didn’t put much thought into that. It was merely the first word to pop into my head.
Thanks, JTB.
Jeff, You’re going to be dissappointed with Relentless by mr. Koontz. the old guy has lost some of his talent it seems. the last couple books have been sad compared to the older ones.