Hope You're Havin' Fun With the Bean Bag

It's only been a week since I last saw Wah-Kee, but a lot changed in that week. He met a hairdresser and they went on a date. I don't know if he met her at a party and then got a haircut, or he asked her out while she was doing his hair. All I knew is what Jose told me: that his Chinese guy mullet is no more and he now looks like a boy band member, circa 1999. I got to see it myself at his birthday party Friday night. I got him a card with some money and a printout of a website I found, www.wah-kee.com. It's a Chinese food place in Madison, WI. Michele dropped Brianna off at my parent's house and we went over to Jose's place. Nick, Hedie,...

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Hell's Radio

Where do bad folks go when they die? No one knows for sure, but I'll bet they play America's top 40 there. All day, every day. Somewhere in the depths of the sulfuric abyss, the wretched souls of the damned are forced to endure the pre-recorded bleeting Ashlee Simpson for all eternity. And what cruel fate awaits the worst specimens humanity has to offer? An eternal loop of Move Ya Body by Nina Sky and a guy who calls himself Jabba. I've heard this song more times in the past few months than any human being deserves to. Sure, they mix it in with a bunch of other terrible songs to ensure that no part of your spirit remains uncrushed, but this...

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I Fall to Pieces

Quick story: When I was in second grade, I went to at a friend's house. He had this steep hill in his back yard. We started to walk down, but I slipped on a rock. I started to roll down the hill and didn't stop until I hit a tree. When I sat up, I noticed my pants were ripped and my leg was bleeding. I started to freak out. My leg! My leg! My mom came and got me and we went to the hospital. The whole time I kept screaming "My leg! My leg!" The doctor looked me over. It seemed I had a small concussion and my left arm was broken in three places. There was nothing wrong with my leg. Other than that I had a pretty good track record when it...

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Another Malfunction

This morning on ESPN.com I saw yet another article about the Desperate Housewives promo on Monday Night Football. The FCC is going to decide whether or not to fine ABC for airing it. If you're like me and you live with your girlfriend and only have one TV, you probably weren't watching football Monday night. But according to the article, the skit went like this: Nicollette Sheridan is standing in the locker room with Terrell Owens, who I will never refer to as "TO" I just can't. Shorthand bugs me. It sounds like you're trying too hard to be cool. Like "lol." In all my time online, I have never written "lol." Damn, I just did. Twice. Well, except for just now, I never did. Anyway, she's standing there wearing only a towel and asking Owens to skip the game. She drops the towel and jumps into...

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Killer Hobos!

Last night I didn't get out of work until 7:30. And since the sun sets a little after noon these days, it was pretty dark when I started walking to the station. Along the way I was stopped by a guy who smelled like he was basted in Jack Daniels. He stood in front of me so I couldn't move. "Hi. How are you doin'? I'm Nate. And first of all, I'm Nate." He said, grabbing my hand giving it an au pair shake. He actually told me his last name too, but I forgot it. Which is kind of pathetic, since he told me twice. At this point I had my hands in my pockets searching for change to make the smelly road block go away. "I need you to do something for me. I just got out of Walpole prison and I...blah blah balh" Prison? Great. There was a bunch of people around, so at least I was fairly certain he...

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Yessir, Arafat

The headline on my internet browser is "Arafat's Condition Deteriorates Rapidly." Well, an hour ago it said he was dead, so I'd say his condition is improving. Unless he's so dead that he's actually starting to decompose, like when that guy drank from the wrong grail. He chose...poorly. Now it says he's dead again. Hold on, no...it's back to deteriorating. Geez, what's going on over there? All I can picture is a bunch of people huddled over this guy's bed, and he keeps sitting up, then falling back down. Then they start to walk away and he sits back up again. "Rrrrr! Must...kill...Jews!" Then drops dead again. Like Jason or Freddy. Speaking...

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Same as the Old Boss

Last week, Johnny Damon and a group of self-professed "idiots" won the World Series. Tuesday, the trend of idiots winning continued with the re-election of George W. Bush. For a while now I had wondered who could have lived in this country for the past four years and said, "Hey, let's do that again!" Well, apparently the answer is: Just over half the country. Today, people all across America are cheering, "Hooray! Now things will change, because Bush is president again! Wait. Fuck, we're idiots." I'm still trying to figure out the hypnotic grip this guy has on people. On the plus side, he did get Saddam Hussein, but...we were after Osama Bin Laden. Remember that guy? It's like asking for a puppy for Christmas and getting a goldfish. I'm not saying capturing Saddam Hussein wasn't a good...

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I Will Call You Betty

My grandfather built my parents' house in 1977, and they moved in that November. Their neighbor was an old man named Buster. The following summer, Buster went on vacation. Except he never went. The paper boy found him. He had been dead a few days. When the new owners, the Howleys, found out that someone died there, Mrs. Howley had a priest bless the house. The Howleys and my parents got along when I was a kid, but then something happened. I don't know what, exactly. I think it has something to do with a crab apple tree and/or their cat. Regardless of the reason, the Howleys disdain for my family grew so large that they eventually built a house...

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Holy Crap!

This morning I passed by Sacred Heart church in Quincy and either Johnny Damon was standing in the garden or someone put a Red Sox jersey on the Jesus statue. Normally, I would have thought that was strange, but not after the past week and a half. In case you were trapped in a mine shaft for the past two weeks, let me recap for you: The Boston Red Sox won the World Series. They not only won, they swept the team with the best record in baseball. Oh yeah, and they came back from a 0-3 deficit in a best-of-seven series against the Yankees, becoming not only the first baseball team to win a seven game series after being down 3-0, but the first team...

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I Am Not A Crook

I went to the pizza place down the street for lunch. I had no cash on me, so I hit the ATM first and took out $40. Then I went in and ordered a couple of slices, which came to $3. When I got back to the office, I noticed they only gave me $7 back. So I went back and told the guy he owes me ten dollars. He immediately said that I gave him $10, not twenty. He was "more than 100% sure," he said. He asked if I was sure I gave him a twenty. And while I didn't actually look at it, I only had two bills on me, which came from the ATM. The ATM, like 99% of the ATMs around here, only dispense in multiples of twenty. I had a reciept showing I took out $40. So unless the ATM somehow got a ten stuck in their with all those twenties, I gave him a twenty. He did finally give it to me, but really fought...

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The Elephant in the Room

We never talk about it. We dance around it. We avoid any mention of it. We have an unspoken agreement to take precautions so it never becomes an issue. I hide my Bushisms calander. When her parents were visiting, she asked them not to keep the TV on Fox News. I turn off the TV just before the Daily Show comes on. I've actually caught myself cutting off my grandmother before she could finish her critque of Bush. These are the little sacrifices you make in a bipartisan relationship. It can be hard sometimes. But it beats talking about it. Way too many bad things could happen. Yes, like in some bad sitcom, I'm liberal and she's conservative. And the one thing I'm conservative on is the one thing she's liberal on. So we are basically complete opposites, at least politically. How wacky! Sometimes...

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Eminem Knows Joe?

First off, I should be in a brand new office right now. I should be sitting in a sun-drenched room in front of a desk I put together myself. Best of all, Joe would have been in another room. Everything was set in place. My employers sold our office, which consists of two condos they've occupied for over 20 years, and bought a 4-floor place on a secluded street to escape the hassels of condo life and the monthly fire-alarm tests and plumbing problems that go with it. We printed up postcards to send to all our clients to let them know we were moving. And, as if by some cosmic joke, a woman who recently started working for one of our vendors happened to live on the tiny street we were moving to. And she found fault with us moving in there, because the street is not zoned for business. My bosses...

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Get Some Skills!

You know what? I miss college. I really had a great time there. I went to Katharine Gibbs, a tiny school located on Boston's ultra-trendy Newbury Street. The unassuming front door looks like the service enterance to the Crate and Barrel next door. Maybe it's Pottery Barn. The point is, if you didn't know it was there, you probably would never even notice it. Unfortunately, I only stayed in contact with one person. Well, two if you count Jose, which I don't because I've known him since high school. A few months before graduation, I went on a road trip with Neil, one of the guys in class, to Charlotte, NC to go to this big comic convention there....

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Back in the Day

This week we've been getting Brianna prepared for her first day of kindergarten. It's got me thinking about my first day. Getting on that big yellow bus and discovering what I can only describe as "bus smell," which is sort of a combination of gasoline and thirty or so peanut butter and jelly sandwiches mixed with that inimitable new plastic smell. I remember waiting for the bus with my mom, Jen, and her mom. I remember my Gremlins lunchbox. I remember I wore a striped shirt. Okay, so I'm just describing the picture, but there really are some things I remember about that first day away from home. In fact, the first memory I have of school...

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Happy Slappy Fresh'n Fruity Burger

I passed a convienece store on the way to work and they had Uh-Oh Oreos in the window. They're the "reverse" Oreos; chocolate filling sandwiched between two butter cookies. I thought to myself, "You know, I really like those things. Better than regular Oreos. But they've got such a stupid name." So I'd never actually buy them. It's like when you go to a restaurant, and you see something on the menu that looks good, but it's got some cutesy/ridiculous name and you're too embarrassed to order it. I usually just point at it and say "I'll have this thing." Or order something else, that I don't really want but has a better name. Why must we be humiliated in order to get what we want? "You want this? Do ya? Well, first you'll have to wear this dress and unicycle down Main Street while yodelling." I'm...

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Everything is Satisfactual

I was waiting for the train this morning and a sparrow landed on my shoulder. That was pretty weird. I felt like I should start singing or somethi...

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My Ears Are Sad

They can't take it anymore. I fear that soon they're just gonna start bleeding, then shrivel up and fall off. And I can't wait. I've been watching a lot of Nickeldeon since Michele's daughter moved up here, and every five seconds there's a commercial for "Kidz Bop 6." Yup, a bunch of kids singing pop songs, while playing sports and other activities in front of backdrops of some of America's landmarks; even an alternate reality where Mt. Rushmore sports the head of some little black kid not unlike Webster with shiny, shiny teeth. Then the announcer says "The Kidz Bop Kids are back with their best Kidz Bop CD ever!" And then those freakin' kids start singing something else. Then, even as the threat of five more of these looms over your head, an easily excited girl in a green soccer uniform...

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Loss

...continued from Ten Years Gone Summer came and went and I eagerly waited to see her again. But I never did. High School was not Junior High. I barely saw her anymore and we never talked. I wanted to, but I just couldn't face her. A lot had happened since Virginia. During the summer between 9th and 10th grades my face broke out with a vengeance and I found out I had to wear a back brace at night because my spine curved too much. Even though there was never any indication that she would feel any different towards me, I felt like a monster and hid from her. Of course, she never made any effort to talk to me, either. The longer we didn't talk, the harder it became to start up again. It got so that I was even afraid to look at her. I wasn't good enough. Also, I was in the Voc. One thing they...

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Ten Years Gone

Memories. I hate memeories. For the longest time, that's all I had. Just memories. Memories of a better time. Of her. Everyone has that one story. That one person that changed their life. She was mine. This is my story. It starts in ninth grade Science class. I had Mr. Galiano. I hated that guy. I'm sure the feeling was mutual; he didn't like anybody. Some people become teachers to educate and inspire. Not Galiano. He became a teacher so he could yell at people all day and get paid for it. He never bothered to learn anyone's name; he just called everyone "freshman" in that condescending, excessively monotone voice of his. It was equal parts Ben Stein and Darth Vader. Hello, freshman. Where's your homework, freshman? You underestimate the power of the Dark Side, freshman. He'd get right...

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I Like Megan

Well, I don't like Megan. I don't hate Megan, either. I don't even know Megan. But somebody likes Megan, because they spray-painted their tepid feelings for her along the wall at the beach across from my apartment. Not I Love Megan. I Like Megan. Why? Why would someone feel the need to write that on a wall? Why would someone say "Megan, I wouldn't mind seeing you on a semi-regular basis, to hell with what anyone thinks!" If you're going to deface public property, shouldn't it be for an emotion a bit stronger than "like?" Oh, won't Megan's friends be jealous when they see her sort-of admirer's apathy prominently displayed for the world to...

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the Boogieman!

Michele insists I was dreaming, but some kind of horrible thing tried to rip out my life force last night. It rattled me a little bit, almost being sucked right out of my body by unseen forces, and dream or not, I'm still shaking. I woke up at 3 AM. Why? Because we had KFC for dinner that night and it was trying to escape. Half an hour later, I crawled back into bed, feeling much better. I couldn't really go back to sleep because Michele...well...she snores. I closed my eyes and saw the residual image of the room as a high-contrast negative. That's pretty normal, it happens when you close your eyes after being exposed to bright lights. But I also saw a door. A door that's not really in the room. And I felt myself being suddenly grabbed and pulled toward it. Not my body; but my spirit, or...

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Just the Ten of Us

Mr. Potter died when I was seven. He was my aunt's father, but I didn't know that at the time. To me, he was just a nice old guy I saw on birthdays and holidays who'd give me money. He had a Winnebago that he and his wife were going to travel the country in, but never did. So after he died, my aunt Betty decided we should take it on a trip to see what it would be like. So ten of us, Uncle Jay, Betty, their kids Andrea, Kristin, Joel, Jon, my parents, my younger brother Ryan and me, went on a trip to Busch Gardens. From left to right: Kristin, Jon...or Joel, my dad,Ryan, my mom, Andrea, me, Betty, the other twin, Jay. We took the Winnebago and...

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There's Guns in Them Thar Hills!

I've always really liked where I live. We have a large backyard and lots of woods. There's a path in the woods that leads to a river and waterfall. It's only a few feet high, but...do you have a waterfall? Didn't think so. Anyway, there's a path that leads to my grandmother's house and for the past two weekends, I've been cleaning up the path and making it look nice after years of neglect and several storms left it looking creepy and foreboding. My brother Glenn and I also cleaned up the hill leading up to my grandmother's house (you can either go up the hill or through the woods...or just use the driveway like normal people.) My neighbor's...

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The Secret of Bare Cove

Like the Hardy Boys before us, (the teen sleuths, not the wrestlers) my friends and I have discovered the secret of someplace. Yes, we have uncovered the grisly truth of behind the secret of Bare Cove. Or we would have, if we hadn't bolted like Kenyan marathon runners as soon as we heard someone coming. Here's what went down: Last month we were sitting around Nick's house trying to decide how to spend our Sunday afternoon, when it was suggested that we buy some disposable cameras and go around taking pictures of random stuff. Maybe it was the ammonia emitting from the ferret cage, but we thought it was a good idea and we were soon on our way. After...

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Spleen Day

April 2. This day may not hold much meaning to most people, but to my friends and me, it will forever be known as Spleen Day. Yes, on this day in 1996, Nick got smacked around like an angry rag doll and wound up in the hospital minus a superfluous organ. We were juniors in high school. I was sitting in homeroom, probably doodling skulls and bunnies, when Jim burst into the room, laughing hysterically. "Nick's nose exploded!" "What?!" "There's blood everywhere!" Jim explained what had happened. Apparently, Nick had some words with someone outside the building. I think Nick made fun of his girlfriend or something. I don’t know. I was sitting at my desk, channeling my own teenage angst into demented little scribbles in the margins of my notebook. But the point is, things started to heat...

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