Tomorrow I’m going to take a look at the pre-orders, and give the T-Shirt Lady a call. I need to provide her with quantities, by size, so we can get the proverbial ball rolling on Surf Report Shirts v.4.0. So, if you want one, and haven’t already done so, today or tomorrow morning would be a fantastic time to place yer order.
Here’s the link, with international prices added.
And if you’re having a difficult time deciding on whether or not we’re worthy of such a purchase, check this out. I’ve been recommended for a position in the new Obama Administration! So, there. Place your orders today.
Last night at work I introduced myself to a new employee, and here’s how the conversation went:
Me: Are you Jennifer?
Her: Yes.
Me: Hi, I’m Jeff.
Her: Oh, Jeff Strawberry?
Me: What?
Her: Isn’t your name Jeff Strawberry?
Me: No, it’s Jeff Kay.
Her: Oh, I thought it was Strawberry.
WTF? What in the hand-tooled hell?! My paranoid brain started wondering if people might be calling me Jeff Strawberry behind my back, and she believed it was actually my name.
But why? Why in God’s name would someone call me such a thing? Is my head shaped like a strawberry? I checked it out in the mirror, and just can’t see it. Does my shampoo smell like strawberries? Of course it doesn’t; I’m not a thirteen year old girl.
I’m completely baffled. Any ideas?
This is an exciting anniversary, my friends. Exactly one year ago today I installed three 5-year light bulbs above our counter tops in the kitchen. I was convinced they wouldn’t last three months, and created an icon on the homepage to illustrate the fact. Yes, I was being a smart-ass…
Previously I’d been switching-out those damn things every two weeks, it seemed. And they’re not regular-sized bulbs, either. They look like the one pictured, and cost upwards of five dollars each. There was almost literally never a day when all three were working at the same time, and it made me crazy.
Toney suggested we buy some of those weird Nancified bulbs, that have to warm up like a 1968 television. And, needless to say, I was skeptical. They were even more expensive, and represented things I didn’t want to be associated with. I was worried it might lead to clothes made of recycled windshield wipers and flip-flops, and a 40-gallon compost tumbler on the deck.
But I was wrong, I admit it. I still don’t believe those bulbs will last five years, but they’ve already exceeded my expectations. We even bought some for outside, and they’ve kept me off the ladder for months on end.
Yet, I’m still wearing good ol’ sweatshop clothes from the Pacific Rim. And how cool is that?!
A few days ago we received the Sam’s Club holiday catalog in the mail. Following are a few of the items being offered this year:
An “electric super car” from a company called Hybrid Technologies. 0 to 60 in 5 seconds, they say. Buyers will get to travel to Los Angeles and test it out on a race track, then Sam’s will ship it to wherever you live. Price: $100,000.
Or, if that’s a little rich for you blood, why not give someone a speaking role on As The World Turns for Christmas? They’ll get to travel with another person of their choice to NYC, stay at a luxury hotel, ride around in limos, and appear on a soap opera. For only $13,500.
Or, you can buy a Kenny Chesney concert “experience” for four, priced at $9900. It includes airfare for four to Dallas, limo service, luxury hotel rooms, concert tickets, a “photo opportunity” with the star, and an autographed guitar.
Last year I think Sam’s offered a full-sized passenger jet for sale, but I don’t see anything that extravagant this time around. Must be the weak economy? I don’t know.
Last week we found out we won’t be able to go to West Virginia for Thanksgiving, after all. It’s becoming a holiday tradition. Every year, it seems, we tell my parents we’ll be there, and cancel.
But I swear we’re not doing it on purpose. Shit just keeps coming up. Last year, for instance, I started my new job (on November 20 — another anniversary on the horizon), and we had to pull the plug.
This year Toney has to attend a mandatory training session on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, so dat’s dat. Our only option would be to travel on Thursday, and it’s not something we want to do.
Kinda sucks. I was looking forward to it. But we’ll make the best of it here, as usual. It shouldn’t be the worst Thanksgiving ever. At least I hope not.
The worst I can remember, probably doesn’t seem all that bad when written down like this. But it sucked big time when I was going through it.
When I moved out of my parents’ house for the first time, I also left the state. I went to Greensboro, NC, in September of 1984 (I think). I took a job as a stocker at a grocery store, and hated it all the way down to my skeleton. But the pay was good, much more than I was able to make in WV.
That first Thanksgiving, just a few months after I’d left home, I had to work and wasn’t able to get back to Dunbar. I spoke to my parents on the phone, and they were having a full-house, as usual. My Mom was busy cooking and preparing everything, and my Dad was getting the place ready.
I was wracked with homesickness, hating that stupid job, and feeling like I’d made a gigantic mistake leaving home.
I had dinner at Shoney’s, who were serving the traditional Thanksgiving meal, and the waitress wasn’t even the motherly type. She was some skinny skank who didn’t give a single-dingle about me.
In fact, I remember getting into some kind of low-grade argument with her. Something to do with pumpkin pie.
It was horrible. I knew nobody, was stuck in an unfamiliar town, sitting in a family restaurant with other peoples’ families, and being served my holiday meal by a junkie hag. I’ve been depressed plenty of times, but that one stands out as a highlight.
What about you? What’s your worst Thanksgiving ever? Tell us about in the comments.
And I’ll be back with more of this crapola tomorrow.
Adam – You might well have saved a life today with that link. Pat yourself on the back.
Harumpa – Rooster and Turkey balls are a dime a dozen. I’m not so low rent as to serve them at Thanksgiving. Sure, I have plastic flamingos in the yard and I have a washer and dryer on the front porch and a I have truck on blocks that I will eventually “fix”, but give me a break. Please, a break.
Brooke – my dream is priceless. I’d pay any price, bare any burden, fuck any fatty, whatever. It’s THAT important. But I think Adam may have solved my problem. If his idea doesn’t work out I’m going for the carnies.
Pagan – eating a eunuch chicken or turkey. What are you, some kind of sicko?
Adam – I was a vegetarian for years… And I still don’t eat turkey. It’s a holiday of side dishes for me. Or you could look into the Tofurkey (not sure on the spelling there – but it’s Tofu turkey).
You could get one of those 2-cycle power dildos… run about 200 cc’s… where I think I remember that from one of the Naked Guns when I was a kid (like 7) and thought that was absolutely hilfuckingarious.
Tiff,
You’re close. The best ever (as I see it) has to do with Thanksgiving.
http://thewvsr.com/thanksgiving1.jpg
I wonder what that stats are on people our age (graduated HS between 1980-1986 or so) and who ended up leaving the state, or joining the military. I have had Thanksgiving dinner at Shoney’s.
It’s so cold outside.
How cold is it?
I saw a chicken with a capon.
ETW – I promised my mom I would eat the turkey… I’m not vegitarian for animal rights or anything… shit, I enjoy punting cats across the street like any other red-blooded American 8 – 27 year old… I just don’t want to grow man-boobs because I’m eating a bunch of pharmaceuticals pumped into my food for the factory farming industry to survive or eat something that isn’t sanitarily (is that a word?) handled by a mechanical butcher. I’ll eat what I kill and clean and the rest is all organic veggies for me. Thank God for Amy’s!
Who loves green bean casserole with the crunchy onion things on top? Me. I don’t eat “normal” breakfast food. And this morning I had a giant bowl of green bean casserole. What a treat! There are several Thanksgiving foods that are only around at this time of year (cranberry jelly shit, pumpkin pie, turkey guts) but that’s not so with green bean casserole. You can have it all year long! You’re welcome.
Adam,
Good to know you’re not a radical. I think Jim Gaffigan said, “Vegans are always so proud of themselves. They like to say that they haven’t had meat in (how ever many) years. Well, I haven’t had a banana in a month. You don’t hear me bragging about it.” (paraphrasing)
Jason, call up the carnies – Bob stopped selling baby turkeys in July. I think I just heard the sound of your heart breaking from all the way down here in Florida.
Too bad for you, but tales of Turkey Skin Monster making his quick getaway with mini turkeys will be much more entertaining for the rest of us!
…riding miniature pony over horizon as sun rises, the high-pitched gobbling and muffled squawking can be heard in the distance, tiny feathers flying…
I worked at a swanky hotel bar for 7 years that did a huge holiday spread. I worked 20 hours between Xmas and Xmas eve with walking pnuemonia and this was while Wally was in Iraq. WORST HOLIDAYS EVER!
Brooke,
Watch the news tonight. You should see something about a man driving into a telephone pole. He’ll have a note stapled to his chest that says, “Where is the tiny turkeys, you cruel world? Where are they, you fucks!?” And that’ll be me. Hope the pictures show my good side. I’m handsome, in general, but only from the right.
Whatever. I’ll regroup. I won’t let a little hurdle (like the fact that it’s impossible to buy little turkeys – whatever the price) keep me down. I’m not a quitter. RAAAHHHHHH!
Jason – LOL… you’ll appreciate this. Last month I was driving down Lake Shore, turning onto Hillcrest (right down the street from your old apt when you were at Baylor) on my way to work. I almost ran over a pack (flock?) of wild turkeys running on Lake Air.
No small ones though… they all looked to be about 10 pounders. There’s usually a few farms around that will sell you a live bird so you can cut, gut, and pluck your own… maybe they’ll sell some of the birds they were planning on selling next year? Make some phone calls… I’m sure there’s some folks with turkeys for the getting in Bama…
Worst Thanksgiving drove home from college, saw grandpop’s car in the drive way. Ran in the house and asked where’s Grandpop?
“He died yesterday, we didn’t want you to drive home upset”
We put the fun in dysfunctional
I’ve spent many an Army Thanksgiving that was in the crapper. The worst was spent in Korea on a gunnery range. Cold, rushed and filled with stress. The second worst was also in Korea, but involved being nearly blind drunk and loose in the civilian population. There were several run-ins with military police, including one during which I managed to say something in poorly spoken Korean that caused a prostitute to have a complete melt down. She was dragged away, spitting and kicking, by the club bouncer. All before 6:00 pm., when we decided we ought to go home. Most holidays in the military involved various levels of drunkeness.
My wife has to make the dreaded greenbeen casserole this year. Her niece (30 yrs old) is the only one that eats it. It gives me the full body piss shudder.
Adam,
I know that area well. I’ve been so homesick. That’s right by the Brazos. Thank you. I’m not being a smartass (for once), really, thank you.
One time my brother and I were driving down Lake Shore and we spotted a herd of deer (is that what you call them? Is it a herd or a pack or a family or what?) hauling ass across this freshly plowed field. This truck comes blowing by us, he was going about 800 mph, and he cut in front of us. It was a dooley draging a small horse trailer. The buck of the pack hit the side of his truck and was slung into the ditch. So I stopped and tried to see if he needed help. He was mad as hell. “Sumbich! I was trying to get the trailor in front of him. Sumbich!” The flared part of his dooley had a large hole in it where the deer hit it. Half the deer’s rack was ripped off. This really pissed him off. So my brother and I helped him load the thing into his empty horse trailor. He gave us what was left of a 12 pack of Coor’s (about 8 beers) and went on his way. I picked the rest of the deer horns off the shoulder of the highway and we left. It looks like it would have been a 10 point. I still have the horns, sitting on a bookshelf, right in front of me as we speak.
Jason, just stuff a robin or a sparrow. No one will notice the difference. If all else fails, SPAM. You can carve it into any shape.
Oral,
You’re my hero. I’ve decided to carve SPAM into tiny penises. They’ll love it. You saved Thanksgiving. Thank you.
According to urban dictionary, “strawberry” is someone who trades sex for drugs. Is there something we don’t know about Jeff’s late-night work shifts?
My parents used to take in the strays for Thanksgiving — it’s not really long enough for anyone to go home, and it sure beats Shoney’s, so we usually had quite an eclectic mix of people there. My family doesn’t do the traditional Thanksgiving with turkey and such, but we had enough people one year that my mother felt she should add the normal stuff to our traditional Italian feast. My brother was supposed to bring the turkey for her to throw in the oven, and he showed up late, as usual, but with a *frozen* turkey. My mother tried to do what she could, but could not defrost that chunk of frozen gizzards fast enough (another good reason to have tiny turkeys, eh?). As the guests were already at the house, we ended up having the Italian food first, with the promise of the turkey later. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but the classically-trained head chef of the restaurant where I was working at the time went back to work and told everyone how strange my family was to have lasagna as an appetizer.
That was also the year that one of my very liberal friends from Chapel Hill got into a screaming match at the dinner table with my cousin who is in the Marines. In retrospect, I can chalk it up to sitting around drinking wine and waiting for the damned turkey to finish cooking.
That was the last time that we hosted Thanksgiving for everyone.
Jeff, I ordered a shirt but the thing kept defaulting to small. It was the only size offered on the paypal cart.
I need XL. I’m not a tiny man. I’m the guy in Highland Village TX on your paypal orders.
Also- yes – I’ll get a long sleeve too if you make them! $20-25 sound about right?
Worst Thanksgiving was when I cooked for a bunch of my friends and we all got drunk and I burned the turkey. It set off the smoke alarm in my building and the fire department came with axes and sirens and everything, I got quite a lecture from the fire department. I wanted to die!
And, I became a statistic today – First day back to work from my spinal surgery and they laid me off.
So, Happy Freaking Monday, Surfers!
Everyone is sharing their personal milestones. So, here we go. Today I masturbated less than four times for the first time (that I can remember) since 1989. Don’t judge me, fuckfaces!
I had a girlfriend who looked like Natalie Merchent. She wasn’t “hot” but she had a way about her. Something about her eyes. I don’t know. I fucked her inside out. So, let’s be friends.
Laser Beams.
Seriously – Mandatory anything the day before TGiving is BS. Did they just came up with this at the last minute, after holiday plans were already made?
I think there is a trend to give up too much of ourselves in the current corpoarte climate – Family is more important now than ever.
Get to WV and see the folks.
Mr. Strawberry,
Go see your parents for shitsake.
HAHA! There’s a turkey plant just north of me in New Market, AL. They’ve agreed to sell me a few tiny turkeys. HA! There is a God. Listen, I’d like to thank a lot of people, but really, I don’t have the time. I’ll send pictures. I love life! I love tiny turkeys! Woo Hoo! Suck it!
Knucklehead – NOOOOOOOOO!
So sorry.
I never had a shitty Thanksgiving, but I had 2 notable shitty Christmases. Which is worse, I wonder.
I want to pre-order a shirt, Jeff, but some asshat stole my debit card number and cleaned out my bank account. So now it has to wait. I hope December 1st-ish isn’t too late…
Actually, traveling ON Thanksgiving itself is just about the easiest travel you’ll ever do. Wednesday night is profound suck, but last year my son and I drove from the Outer Banks back to Wilmington DE and there was nobody on the road but us and a few other lazy travelers. It was great.
I swear to God. Everyone is so down on this economy, it’s making me sick. It’s very easy to make $100,000 a year. I have several methods.
a) kidnap a kid, once a year, whose parents have $100,000 laying around.
b) kidnap two kids, once a year, whose parents have $50,000 laying around.
c) kidnap four kids, once a year, whose parents have $25,000 laying around.
That’s just the tip of the fuckberg. I can’t just share this information for free. Really, I need a break. Look me up on Amazon. It starts at $100,000 (depending on how many kids you have) . Whatever, homebots and sluts. I’ve lots of good ideas.
Thanks Buck, another one hit out of the old ball park.
I’m off to Graceland tomorrow. I know that Tiff and Gretchen hate my guts, hard to blame them, but you’ll miss me. Promise.
I’ve been there many times. When the guide turns her head to explain the dining room and whatnot, I’ll shove whoever out of the way and take several pictures upstairs. I susupect he’s still alive. I’ll get him on film if I can.
Let’s give this a code name, just to make it legit. The code name is “Long live the King”. Don’t tell anyone, assrabbits.
Jason, you may end up with the kids with choice b and c.
“I was wracked with homesickness, hating that stupid job, and feeling like I’d made a gigantic mistake leaving home.”
I felt the same way when I spent my first year at Indiana University in 76 but I lit a joint, turned on Dark Side of the Moon and nothing else mattered after that.
Shiny Rod,
Jesus Christ! Are you from Canada or are you a regular person? How do you say “house” or “about”? You’re a coonass, right? God. I regret all the times I let you ride with me when I was buying pot. God help me.
Sorry to talk so much, it gives me somewhat of an escape. This girl that I know, Christa, has a little sister which had a baby about 7 or 8 weeks ago. The baby’s dad beat the shit out of it. The baby ended up in ICU with a broken jaw and several other things.
So I paid him a visit. I found him at his brother’s apartment. I pistol whipped that fucker until one more hit would kill him. They had to call an ambulance for him. I broke his arm and two ribs and he lost an eye. I did it while his girlfriend watched. Fuck her. Fuck him.
But now I’m facing assult with a deadly weapon charges. Really, I should have killed him. I regret not killing him. So, I’m going to Graceland tomorrow. And whenever I go to court, maybe I can let yall know. If you read this and you’re the praying type, pray for me.
Worst Turkey Day here was in 1978 or abouts. Was a college student living w/boyfriend in Balto MD. Had no family I could go home to for Thanksgiving and boyfriend’s mom said he could NOT bring me home for Tgiving! We’d only been living together for a yr, so it’s not like I was family or anything….so he left me to go home anyway! The lure of stuffing will get men every time.lol
It still amazes me that anyone would knowingly let someone be ALONE on Thanksgiving, when it was in their power to to change the situation!
Anyway, I’m alone on Turkey Day forced to celebrate in our dinky dank apt. by cooking a Jennie-O Turkey Roll in our little toaster oven & eating it in front of the 13″ black & white tv.,,,ALONE. No money to afford going anywhere to eat-out. I also got panhandled by a wino while walking to the A&P to buy said turkey roll that morning. Dang, I missed my opportunity for company w/my meal!
And yes, I did marry that boyfriend inspite of this incident. And this episode formed the base of my relationship(or should I say lack of relationship))with his old bitch…..er, I mean mother.
I moved to Greensboro in ’85. I worked at a radio station. Lonely is sitting in a room playing Journey records on Thanksgiving.
This year is going to be my worst Thanksgiving ever. i come from a LARGE Catholic family and am used to Thanksgiving with a good 20-30 people. This year it’s my Mom, my brother, SIL, the 3 Terror Children and me…and since it’s such a small group, the SIL is inviting her mother, Sister, BIL and Brother…a total of 11. It’s going to suck. I’m ready to stay home and ignore it.
Worst Thanksgiving…………..this is an easy one. 1981. My Father died 3 weeks beforeThanksgiving. We had tons of people come to my Mother’s house that year. I am sure everyone wanted to be supportive, but it felt like a funeral all over again. On another note, Bill in WV and I both worked for the same law firm for about 12 years. We spent many Thanksgivings at the firm Thanksgiving Luncheon, drinking and playing poker and or passing out in the office. Bill……….how much does it cost to have a cab driver drive around the block and drop you back off at the office? ;-))
Knucklehead – so sorry to hear about the job loss … I can totally relate. My hubby was laid off in May and is still looking for the right opportunity. Hang in there!
Worst thanksgiving ever – last year when my Mom passed away 2 days prior.
One other Thanksgiving note…………..Sometime in the early 90’s, I was leaving the office with a coworker the evening before Thanksgiving and a homeless person looks at me and says, Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Jerry!!! Talk about a freaky experience! Still have no idea how he knew my name.
This year is going to be the worst thanksgiving ever. My stepmother already sent over her “Menu” and has replaced the standard thanksgiving staples of green bean casserole and mashed potatoes with bullshit menu items like “green limas” and “potato salad”. Plus she puts raisins in her stuffing. And, she calls her stuffing “dressing” which annoys me to no end. Dressing is what you put on a salad. Its stuffing, because you stuff it into the turkey’s ass. Dressing a turkey would be fun, though… with like little doll clothes, but not as tasty. Did I mention my stepmom looks like Shelly Duvall, but with a bigger ass and bigger teeth?
Jeff,
I absolutely keeled over laughing about the “strawberry” thing. You sound as paranoid as I am. Worst Thanksgiving ever.. the ex Mrs. Radley cooked the turkey upside down and popped the champagne cork between the eyes of my best friend. He recovered..as did I after she left me for a lazy eyed-milk toast. Go figure.
Brandy,
RAISINS!? Oh God. That’s worse than putting oysters up your butt, or whatever. And she looks like Shelly Whatsherfuck? Wow. Someone just woke up little Jason. No. Kidding. She’s too skinny. And she calls it dressing. Off with her head. Sick bitch.
Jeff go home.
Maybe your co-workers call you a FRUIT behind your back.
i.e. Strawberry??
Has anyone called the phone number on the “Further Evidence” ad yet?
I’d do it, but my cell phone does not work at my place of employment-
Maybe one of you out there is feeling kinda bored and wants to have some fun with Peter (P’Ta Mon)??
Tadpolgal…
I just called it… a white chick answered the phone. No Rastafarian in her… at least not yet.
Heh… http://books.google.com/books?id=mAdUqLrKw4YC&pg=PA1884&lpg=PA1884&dq=strawberry+slang&source=bl&ots=t0M93LmfvJ&sig=MFMjzrU_tPGlwJShurTzVHrRA2s&hl=en&sa=X&oi=book_result&resnum=10&ct=result
Well- No we need someone to get in- perhaps a consultation or what-not
It sounds as though Jason may have some problems upcoming-
Maybe he’s our guy?