Jeff Kay's Blog, page 30

Some Random Thoughts Straight From The Bunker

Actually, I’m at the dining room table. But who’s keeping track? Toney’s working downstairs this evening, and the bunker is off-limits for a few hours. Both hooligans are also at work, so it’s just me, Mayor McStench, and my laptop. I don’t usually write this time of day, so I’m making no promises. I’m generally a morning/early afternoon fart joke scribe, so this feels a little weird. I’m drinking coffee, to try to fool myself into believing it’s 9:45 am.

Speaking of the bunker, I almost killed myself in there this week. I had a metal folding chair in front of my computer, and the shit collapsed on me. One of the legs — the rear passenger leg, to be exact — just said fukkit underneath my great heft. Before I knew what was going on, I was piled up in the corner with my legs sticking straight up in the air. Toney heard the commotion and came running. And as soon as her brain processed the ludicrous vision before her, she started laughing and didn’t stop for a long time.

I had a hard time getting up, and I’m not kidding. I was afraid I was going to be gutted by raw metal, and the only part of me that was touching the floor was my lower back. But I eventually extracted myself from the debris, and only had a skinned right elbow at the end. And Toney was still laughing. There are few things in this world that she enjoys more than seeing me get hurt in some unusual way.

When we lived in California we had a swing on our patio, and it collapsed on me one day. I turned an S-bolt into an I. When she’s feeling down, she likes to recall that incident. Also, I sat on a child’s bed inside a Raymour & Flanigan furniture store years ago, and exploded the wood frame. The thing was splintered and fully-collapsed. Toney’s face was blood-red from laughter, and tears were streaming down her face, as we raced toward the exit before the twice-divorced mustachioed salesman could catch up to us and hold us accountable for the wrath my fat ass exacted on their merchandise.

So, anyway. I need to lose about 75 pounds. I quit drinking and immediately began putting on weight. And I was fat to begin with. I don’t get it, but whatever. Pass the pudding pops, goddammit.

Have you ever had something like that happen to you? If so, please tell us about it in the comments. I also blow the entire ass out of pants on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes it appears that a substantial amount of fabric is completely gone, after the smoke clears. It’s a real mystery. Please share your tales, if you have any.

You know what I find intriguing now? Craft root beer. Every grocery store has a section of semi-expensive designer root beers these days, and I’ve been testing them out. I’m not talking about the alcoholic swill that supposedly tastes like root beer, but actual old time soda fountain stuff. I’ve tried several, including Saranac, but none have blown me away yet. A&W is still better. But I’m getting sucked in, I can feel it. I’m on the hunt, boys and girls. If you have any tips for me, I’m all ears. And gut. 100% ears and gut.

Another thing I’m completely invested in: Homeland, on Showtime. Holy shitballs, it’s fantastic. I find myself getting excited, hours in advance, about the prospect of sitting down and watching another episode or two. Remember when TV sucked? Yeah, me too. But it sure as heck doesn’t anymore. There’s never been a better time to be alive and lazy!

A few nights ago I was driving home from work, and a guy in front of me was all the way over in the right lane. I knew that lane was ending, but he didn’t get over. I watched in amazement as he just kept driving after his lane disappeared, straight down the shoulder, at full speed. Yeah, and he didn’t make it very far before he hit a truck tire, and a big pile of metal. There’s a lot of debris alongside I-81… the remnants of other peoples’ horrible days. When he hit the tire it looked like his car went up on two wheels, and the metal was the knockout punch. When I sped past him, five seconds later, he had his flashers going and it sounded like his engine was flying apart in every direction. Dumbass.

Our younger kid had the flu about a month ago. He took the test at the doctor’s office, and was prescribed Tamiflu. So, it was official. Not that fake catch-all “flu” that people talk about all the time. It irritates me, because I’ve had the real deal, and felt like I was moving toward the light. But everybody calls the tiniest little sniffle the flu, which cheapens it. In any case, he was pretty sick for a few days, and I was convinced it was going to rampage through the family. But it didn’t. Nobody else got it. It seems unlikely, but it’s true. Whew! I’ve never been sicker than when I had that crap. And it lasted for almost two weeks. None of my clothes fit when it was over, and I almost had to go out and buy underwear suspenders. I still don’t get the flu shot, though… I’ve never had it in my life. Go figure.

On Christmas Eve I installed a new light bulb in a lamp inside the bunker that will supposedly last for 22 years. Ha! I give it four months. Am I wrong? I have a backup bulb for when it burns out. But I guess I’ll be 76, so maybe my surly nurse can screw it in for me? Oh, she’ll be mouthy, but will have a heart of gold.

I was thinking about something today, that happened when I was a kid. My friend Doug and I were cutting between two houses, instead of walking all the way around the block. And we saw a woman washing dishes at her sink wearing a tremendous bra. The thing had straps like seat belts, and the cups looked to be lined with steel crossbeams. We took off running, terrified, and I still remember it more than four decades later. I have a feeling the Army Corps of Engineers were involved in the design of that thing. Holy mackerel.

Years later, a girlfriend and I were walking home from a bar, and saw some girl (college-aged?) standing in her brightly-lit living room, ironing something while wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. I mean, it was like she was standing on a stage beneath a spotlight, and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. We didn’t stick around, but I have no doubt a crowd eventually formed. Oh, it was something worth watching. For years I became aroused whenever I smelled spray starch.

And I’ll leave you now with yet another question… Have you ever accidentally seen something of note through a window? I know this is a long shot, but it feels like I asked some other questions above. There should be something for everyone, I hope.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great weekend!

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Yet Another Thing I Don’t Understand

You know what I don’t understand? People who have a GIANT issue with other people looking at their cell phones. I’m not talking about texting while driving, or people bumping into one another because they’re pretending to be wonderful on Facebook, or whatever. That, I get. No, I just mean folks looking at their phones while standing in line, or waiting on their burger at Wendy’s, etc.

My parents, for instance, become enraged if I pick up my phone. OK, that might be a slight exaggeration, but you get my point. We can be at their house, deep into hour two of Family Feud, nobody saying a word. And if my hand even inches toward my phone… it starts. “You just can’t leave it alone, can you? You’re like a drug addict!” And it goes on for five solid minutes: while you’re under my roof, you will NOT take your eyes off Steve Harvey and his amusing exasperation.

I just don’t understand. I get annoyed about many things, God knows it’s true, but that ain’t one of them. How is it any different than the spiffy gents above? I have a feeling nobody was up their asses for reading newspapers in public, right? What is it about cell phones that drive people so crazy? My folks are certainly not alone. I hear the complaints all the time, from all age groups. It’s not just the seasoned citizens, not by a long shot. Whatever. I’m for people using their phones more.

Some other things I believe they should be focusing their passions on: people who back into parking spaces, people who walk around fast food restaurants chewing, people who congratulate one another on Facebook even though they live in the same house, people who say ‘it is what it is,’ people who saunter outside of accepted sauntering zones like parks or walking trails, people who repeatedly clank their silverware while eating, people who say ‘Well, we could use the rain,’ people who ask what comes on a Big Mac, people who say ‘I’m so OCD!,’ people who drive at radically different speeds than I do, people who use cologne, people who say ‘I can’t even,’ and people who take a drink and go “Ahhh!’

You know, like a rational person?

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

A Few Quick Things, vol. 76

I’m so glad Christmas is over. I loved it when I was a kid, of course, but now it’s just another layer of obligation and stress in my life. And I don’t need an additional layer, thank you very much. The boys seemed happy with their haul, and there were no major arguments or problems, so I’ll put it down as a success. Whatever.

You know what else I don’t like about the holidays? What feels like DAYS of dullness — just hanging around the house with the TV on and nothing happening except serial grazing of the cookie and fudge table. I know that sounds fantastic in theory, but it’s boring as fuck. Of course it was really only the second half of Christmas Eve, and Christmas day. But it felt like weeks. By Sunday afternoon I was on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. I could’ve gone out for a walk, I suppose, but let’s not get ridiculous.

Speaking of TV, I watched all three seasons of Silicon Valley, in less than two weeks. Loved it! Great show. I’m now starting on Homeland, but there are a lot more episodes, and each one is an hour long. So, give me a month. We also enjoyed five or six uncut episodes of The Andy Griffith Show on Christmas Eve, on the Sundance Channel. I wasn’t even aware we got that network, it’s way up the dial — something like 163. Who the hell knows? But it was fun. That show, like Seinfeld, never gets old. And Toney and I have watched the first four episodes of 11.22.63, which is also pretty great.

There’s so much fantastic TV now. Remember when it was just Three’s Company and Falcon Crest? Not good. What should I watch after Homeland? It takes a lot of fuel, my friends.

Did I mention that we now have all of the premium movie channels? HBO, Cinemax, Showtime, Starz, and maybe more? Toney called Comcast and cut some kind of deal with them, and we ended up with all the premium channels, plus 131 additional regular channels (we already got roughly a million) for the same monthly amount. Also, when I was about to lose my mind on Christmas day, I signed up for a free trial of Hulu. I didn’t like it at first, and was ready to cancel. But, I might stick with it for a while. I’m seeing some possible benefits.

What’s your opinion of Hulu? I don’t like the commercials, and am certainly not willing to pay more to go commercial-free. I also don’t like how they don’t always have complete seasons of TV shows. If you’ll notice, random episodes are missing. It’s weird. I’m a completist, and that bugs me. If I tear into a series, I need to see them all. Ya know? So, the jury is out, but I’m liking 11.22.63, and there’s a lot of other stuff on there that might keep me around for a while. Like that Beatles documentary, directed by Ron Howard.

So, in addition to all those movie channels, we now also have Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Hulu. It’s crazy. It feels like the entire history of TV is at my fingertips. And I’m still bitching.

And speaking of bitching, I have a couple of fresh complaints. You know those newfangled drink machines they’re installing everywhere? The ones where you have access to roughly a hundred different variations of soda, and is driven by a booger-smeared touch screen? Well… they’re a mistake. You can’t give stupid people that many options. For one thing, they don’t know how to operate it. The whole concept is baffling to them. They just stand there with their mouth hanging open, staring into the screen like they’re witnessing footage of their own future death. Also, the sheer number of products that machine will dispense causes brain-lock in 60% of users. It’s just too much.

One thing I’ve started doing, after I finally gain access to one of those machines, is try something different every time. A few days ago I got Mello Yello with grape flavoring added. I drank it down, even though it was fairly horrible, and within twenty minutes I had to shit like there was no tomorrow. Sweet sainted mother of Yahoo Serious! You talk about a duke-trigger… It was worse than Sunkist Orange, which’ll also cause otherwise sane individuals to tear out a section of drywall to get to a toilet. Do you have any known and consistent duke-triggers? Please tell us about them in the comments.

Another thing that bothers me… nobody knows how to spell “whoa.” Have you noticed that? They go “woah” with it, or maybe even something worse. It’s not as bad as those new drink machines, but it’s up there.

And I’m going to leave you now with a question about celebrity deaths. There’s been no shortage of them this year, or this week, even. But I’d like to know which ones shocked you the most. Prince was pretty shocking, since he had no known history of drug abuse, or anything of the sort. And he was fairly young. But, at the top of the list for me will forever be John Lennon. That was some bullshit, right there. It’s still upsetting, when I stop and think about it. Toney mentioned Princess Diana, and that one was certainly shocking, too. But I wasn’t emotionally invested in her, like I was with John. Ya know? I can remember being pretty heartsick about Belushi, but it wasn’t exactly shocking. Sad, yes. But not shocking.

What are your thoughts on this one? Please share them in the comments.

And I’m going to drive through the freaking snow, and go back to work now. My nipples are exploding with delight. I made the boys go out and shovel the driveway, though. They didn’t care for it, but tough shit. I’m not doing it anymore. They’d better get used to it, goddammit.

I’ll see you guys again soon. Have a great day.

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

Have You Ever Bought Any “As Seen On TV” Products? What Was The Verdict?

I don’t buy anything, except ebooks. And food, lots of food. But what about you? Have you ever purchased a product from a TV commercial, or infomercial, or something similar? If so, how did it go for you? Were you satisfied?

I admit that I’m mildly intrigued by the flashlight that can be frozen inside a block of ice, dropped from a helicopter, or run over by a piece of industrial machinery. But the chances of me actually pulling the trigger on it? Exactly zero. I’m not buying that bullshit. I mean, seriously.

I also like the glove you can put on, and plunge your hand into a blast furnace at a steel mill, or whatever. But I’ll never own one, and probably never be inside a steel mill, either.

MyPillow amazes me, too. What must their advertising budget be? They’re everywhere. You can’t escape that mustachioed pillow salesman. I was in a grocery store a few days ago buying ice cream, and there was a giant display of those super-expensive pillows in the middle of the floor, with ol’ Mustache Johnny in the center of it. At a grocery store! On the frozen food aisle!! Those things cost fifty dollars each. Have any of you bought one? I need some feedback. How could they possibly live up to such a price? They’re pillows.

There are other things that intrigue me, as well. Like Dinovite, for your dog. They advertise on the radio continuously. Not sure about TV. But they’ve caught my attention. Also, I’m interested in the Squatty Potty, which is apparently a shitting stool. Any experience with that kind of thing? Please help me understand. I am sincerely baffled.

Here’s one of the classic TV commercials for questionable products. It’s memorable because of the terrible acting, general ridiculousness, racial cartoonery, and sexual menace.

Have you ever bought any such items? Please tell us about it in the comments. I have literally nothing to offer here. Sometimes I do look at the As Seen On TV section in stores, but never buy anything. Crap like the Snuggie, the ShamWow, and whatever they call that spray-on weaponized rubber they use on the bottom of that air boat? Do you own any of that stuff? What about that Red Copper deal, or the garden hose that shrivels up like a February penis? I need to know your opinions of these things, and whatever else you might have been suckered into buying along the way. Anything? Please share.

This is a pretty good collection of infomercial fails. There are tons of ’em on YouTube, but none contain my favorite. It was from a few years ago and featured a guy dragging a big bag of leaves across a lawn. It was level and debris-free, but he suddenly shouted and threw his arms in the air, before collapsing in the yard. Did he suffer a catastrophic aneurysm? Take a sniper’s bullet? It’s never explained.

I’m calling it a day, my friends. If you have anything to add to this conversation, please do so.

And I’ll see you again soon.

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

What Do You Remember About Kindergarten? Anything?

I was five in 1968, so I guess that’s when I went to kindergarten. Right? It wasn’t offered in the actual schools back then, so I went half-days to a church basement. There was nothing religious about it, I think they just leased out the space, or something. The teacher was Mrs. Penn. I remember her as an Aunt Bee type, although all of it’s pretty fuzzy at this point. It feels like she was nice, but a little more businesslike and no-nonsense than adults I’d encountered to that point.

I don’t remember a great deal about the day-to-day kindergarten experience, However, there are a few remaining fragments of memories from that time. I’ll share them with you now, and turn it over to you guys to do the same. Sound good? Let’s do it.

We had nap time, like the kids in the picture above. All of us had these scratchy plastic-covered mats that folded into thirds, and we’d put them on the floor and “nap” as the teacher read a story or played a record. I don’t think there was much sleeping going on, but everybody did settle down for a while. It seemed weird to me, as I recall. I felt vulnerable, like somebody was going to shank my ass.
We also had snack time. A lot of purple Kool-Aid in Dixie riddle cups, I think, and sugar cookies. When I went to first grade, the following year, we had to bring our own snacks (usually wet room-temperature celery in a sandwich bag). But I believe they provided them in kindergarten. I can’t conjure an opinion on the quality of the offerings.
There was a lot of finger-painting, and that sort of thing, at big communal tables. It feels like there was assigned seating, possibly boy/girl. If it was still set up the same today, I could point out my table and even which chair I used.
I remember a girl counting and saying, “Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twentyteen…” I didn’t comment, but thought, “Wotta dumbass.”
There were two boys in that so-called class who were menacing and rough. I was a little afraid of them, because there was always the threat of violence when they were around. Both have been dead for many years.
Another boy and I were talking to a girl, imitating the hippies and cool cats we’d seen on TV. “Hey, baby,” and that sort of thing. She went to Mrs. Penn and said we’d called her a big baby, and we got a little heat for it. However, the girl misunderstood and I found it frustrating. I wasn’t calling her a baby, I was being cool, man.
A couple of times they took us outside to a “park” next door. It was a shitty overgrown vacant lot, surrounded by an iron fence. The whole thing was full of thorny bushes, and flying insects brandishing goddamn bayonets, or whatever. It was horrible in there, and it was supposed to be fun?! We were lucky to get out alive. I’m surprised we didn’t interrupt a pair of copulating hobos.
And I remember five or six of us boys peeing into a toilet at the same time, playing games with our streams. “Ha! I cut you off!!” Turning pissing into a competition with very vague and dynamic rules… “I won!” somebody would usually proclaim at the end. There was little point in arguing, but that didn’t stop it from happening anyway. It’s not like we could throw it to an arbitration board, or anything.

I ended up graduating high school with most of the kids from that kindergarten class, which is pretty cool, I think. The picture below isn’t my class, but it’s from the same era. I lifted it off Facebook. That’s Mrs. Penn, with some kids I knew, and my brother on the front row, all the way to the right. Crazy.

Do you have any memories of kindergarten? If so, please share ’em in the comments.

And I’ll leave you now with another Surf Report holiday shopping recommendation. I think you’ll agree that this tasteful and understated item would be a wonderful addition to the laundry room or above a garage workbench. Why not buy several dozen?

I’ll see you guys again soon. Have a great weekend!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

What Smells Take You Straight Back To Childhood?

My previous job was based inside a huge manufacturing facility, a place so large it had its own zip code. And as I made the long trek to the cafeteria every day, for another round of mediocre-at-best void fillers, I passed through an area of the plant that smelled EXACTLY like the Dunbar Bowling Alley. I don’t know what was going on there, what kind of toxic cocktail they were brewing up, but I always loved the smell. And I’d breathe in several big lungfuls, totally aware that I might be flipping the cancer switch to on.

I spent hundreds of hours at the Dunbar Bowling Alley as a kid. During the last week of school every year they’d give us a card that entitled us to bowl one free game per weekday in the summer, and my friends and I used the shit outta that thing. We’d walk there around 11 am, bowl our free game, and mess around in the room with the video games and pinball machines. The workers absolutely hated us, with good reason. We were smartass little bastards, generally up to no good.

We used to open the door that led to a junky storage area, roll a bowling ball in there with force, and close the door. Sometimes we’d just hear a KLUNK! and be disappointed. But other times glass would shatter and heavy things would fall over, spectacularly. We considered this to be great fun. An old guy we called Steamboat would always come running back there with a cig dancing on his lips and chew us out for five minutes, which was the cherry on top of the whole deal. I’m not sure why we were never banned outright. We certainly should’ve been.

Another time my friend Mike was having a verbal altercation with a kid we didn’t know. This was out in the main bowling alley itself. The stranger was mouthing off, and Mike was giving it back to him. Finally, Mike removed the big Blow Pop from his mouth, and threw it at the kid. Have you ever tried to throw a Blow Pop? It’s not an easy thing to accomplish, because of the weight distribution. But somehow this thing went straight into the kid’s shaggy 1970s hair, and embedded itself deep. As we were leaving, he was trying to pull it out by the stick, and had a panicked look on his face. I don’t think I stopped laughing until well past Bowen’s Pharmacy. Man, that was pure greatness.

So, whenever I’d pass through that area of the plant, and get a whiff of those good ol’ days, I’d happily breathe it on in. I’m not sure what created the original smell, but I think a lot of it was the oil they put on the bowling lanes. That, and cigarettes, beer, hotdogs, rental shoe spray, and probably ass. Who knows? But I liked it, and if I smelled it again today I’d feel happy in my soul.

Do you have any specific smells that transport you back to childhood? Fresh cut grass does it, too. But I’m sure that’s pretty common. There was also some kind of powder that my grandmother used that I occasionally smell in department stores, or whatever. I’m not sure if it’s the exact same kind, but it’s close enough to trigger a transport.

If you have anything to share on this one, please do so. Also, on a related note, what smells do you wish they’d capture and bottle in a cologne or perfume? I don’t use cologne, but might start if they ever came out with one based on the essence of a just-opened pack of baseball cards. Ya know? Maybe just call it Topps? I’d go for it, I think.

I’m calling it a day here, my friends. It’s all up to you guys now. Have at it in the comments. Then go buy a bunch of expensive stuff from Amazon, after using one of our links. Or cheap stuff, I don’t care.

I’ll be back soon. Have yourselves a great day!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

Please Share Your Holiday Party Horror Stories!

I try not to go to parties. I’m better at chit-chat than I used to be, but still not very good. I just end up feeling awkward and ill-at-ease, and wondering how much more of this contractual obligation I’ll be forced to endure. But, of course, sometimes you just can’t get out of it. And I’m mostly talking about work-related boolshit.

Today I’d like to briefly tell you about a few memorable things that happened during work Christmas parties I’ve attended, and turn it over to you guys to do the same. It doesn’t necessarily have to be work-related, although those are usually the most cringe-worthy. It could be family parties that descended into drunken fistfights, or private parties that came fully and completely off the rails. Just please share any holiday party horror stories you’ve collected along the way. And I thank you in advance.

In Atlanta they had a big shindig upstairs in the conference room one year at work. The booze was flowing, which was surprising, since that company was always paranoid about liability, etc. In any case, there was a woman there who was about as straitlaced as they come. She was very churchy and dressed like a librarian, circa 1956. Early in the evening Toney and I noticed her drinking, which seemed out of character. Interesting.

After a while she was getting all flirty with her boss, putting her hands all over him and whatnot. It was an amazing thing to behold. Then, about 90 minutes in, there was a loud WOOOOO!!, and everybody turned to see what was going on. That chinless woman did about three full spins as she entered the dance floor with her hands above her head, and proceeded to thrust and grind and go completely to town with it. Her vagina was pumping forward and backward like a piece of industrial machinery, and I don’t think I stopped laughing until sometime early the next day.

Also in Atlanta, a few years earlier, I was in a dark place, my friends. My girlfriend and I had recently broken up, and I was in a state of despair. The party that year was at a concert venue called Center Stage, and the open bars were doing a turnaway business. At one point I was thoroughly intoxicated and talking to some woman who worked at Geffen Records. I sorta knew her, but not really. And I said something along the lines of “Hey, whenever you wise up and ditch that bag of shit,” gesturing toward her antlers-wearing date, who could’ve been her husband for all I knew, “give me a call.”

WTF?? The look on her face was horrifying, and every time I thought about it over the next few days, which was pretty much all the time… my body would go into a full clench. Who did I think I was? I can’t pull off that kind of thing. I’m Jeff Kay, and have a VERY limited range. The amazing thing? She called me, and we went out a few times. Unfortunately, she found me intriguing at first, then (I’m connecting the dots) vulgar and repulsive. Pass the beer nuts.

Finally, in California the company’s CEO would open his mansion every December to us home office peasants, and Toney and I went a couple of times. The house overlooked the ocean, was roughly the size of my hometown, and had a giant fountain in the middle, like something from a Las Vegas hotel. They always had magicians and fortune tellers there, and all sorts of incredible food and drink.

During the first year Toney’s friend Renee got 100% shitfaced on White Russians and was stumbling around the patio with a cig dangling off her lips. She was trying to find someone with matches or a lighter, and we were grimacing like Gilbert Gottfried watching it all unfold. Eventually she approached a group of older women, and one of them informed her that smoking was not allowed. And Renee said, “Yeah, thanks for nothing, bitch.”

Unfortunately, she was talking to the CEO’s wife. And… Renee left the company soon thereafter. She wasn’t forced out, but was reportedly told it might be a good move for her. Heh.

And now it’s your turn. Do you have anything to add? If so, use the comments section. Also, please don’t forget to pass through one of our Amazon links while doing your holiday shopping. ‘Tis the season for constant reminders!

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

Where The Hell Did This Fork Come From?!

Seriously. This thing has been hanging around our house for many years, possibly a decade or more. Where the hell did it come from?! It’s an outlier. There are no other forks like it in the silverware drawer. So, what the shit, man? How did it get in here? What’s its history?

I hate that rogue fork, and will not use it. Toney knows this by now, and never assigns it to me. But in the past I’d make a point of getting up and trading it for an official sanctioned utensil, something I can assume we actually purchased somewhere along the way. God only knows this thing’s background. I’m thinking it rode in with an outside pasta salad, or something, and never left.

And look at it! I hate the way that center groove is longer than the other ones. It’s trying too hard. There’s no way in hell I’d ever be standing in a store and say, “Yes! That is the fork for me.” And that rose pattern on the handle? Fuck that shit.

Sure, I could throw it in the trash and have considered it many times. Believe me. However, it’s functional and everybody else in the house uses it with no problem. How is this possible?! Anyway, I have a hard time tossing something that still works. Probably because I grew up during the depression. OK, that part’s not true. But I still don’t like throwing something away that has an ongoing purpose. Ya know?

There’s also a highly questionable towel up in here. I’m talking a full-sized bath towel, with a completely unknown origin story. WTF?? How does this keep happening? I wouldn’t even touch that horrible thing for years, but at this point… it’s been washed hundreds of times. Whatever ball spores or cooter residue was embedded in the fabric has long since been eradicated. So, I use it. But I’m never thrilled about it.

Do you have any rogue items in your home? Things you notice every once in a while, and think, “Seriously, how did that crap get in here?” If so, please share in the comments.

I have to be at work early today, so I need to cut this one a little short. But before I go, I want to recommend another holiday gift item for you guys. How about 38,400 batteries?! Imagine the looks of pure joy when your loved ones unwrap the pallet! Buy a dozen or more.

Also, I meant to mention this last time… Metten and Lakrfool are starting to resurrect Mockable. It’s still early days, but please check it out. Those are a couple of funny dudes, right there.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great weekend!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

How Much Are You Paying For Internet And Cable? Or Satellite, Or Whatever?

Before we get started with this quickie, I’d like to make another suggestion for a holiday stocking stuffer. I believe this would be a delightful Christmas morning surprise for people of all ages! Why not buy a dozen or more?

Toney and I were talking about TV a few days ago, and how we wouldn’t mind having HBO again. We checked and it’s supposedly $15 per month, which feels like too much to me. About $8 too much, to be exact. But I suggested that maybe one of us (not me) could call Comcast and see what options they’re offering. ‘Cause it seems like there’s always some kind of “deal” available, if you ask for it.

Cable TV pricing is a dark and mysterious world that I’m convinced nobody truly understands. Hell, I’m not even sure if they’re called Comcast or XFinity at this point. What’s that all about? Even their name is murky and unclear. And it feels like everybody in the world is paying a different price for the same services. Ya know? It’s almost like the airline industry — the pricing seems arbitrary and random. Am I wrong?

Indeed, when Toney called ’em, they said we could get HBO and Starz(??), plus a telephone landline, for exactly the same amount we’re paying now. What the hell, man? It’s bizarre. If someone had enough tenacity and a stable enough blood pressure I’m convinced they could, over time, negotiate their way to true television nirvana. But that person is not me. I’d almost certainly stroke-out during conversation two or three.

I asked Toney how much we pay per month, and instead of just giving me a number as I’d hoped, I was handed a recent bill. And that opened up a whole new conversational tributary. There are a bunch of add-on fees that make no sense to me. Specifically:

Broadcast TV fee: $5.00

Regional sports fee:  $3.00

Franchise fee: $7.70

FCC regulatory fee: $0.08

I don’t really know what any of that bullshit is, and I did five solid minutes on it while standing in the middle of our living room. See? She should’ve just given me the total. I’m surprised they don’t just bunch them all together and call it a revenue enhancement fee. Regional sports? Please tell me I’m not sending money to the fucking Philadelphia Phillies in some way? Man, I’m getting all fired up just thinking about it.

In any case, we’re now paying $199.65 per month. Isn’t that insane? It feels insane to me.

We have two cable boxes, which cost $10 each per month. And that annoys me too. Those boxes are needed for the service to work, there’s no value added. It’s like going into a restaurant and ordering a plate of spaghetti, and being charged $2 extra for use of the plate. Grrr…

So… we have some mysterious tier of cable service — with no premium channels. Two cable boxes, and one DVR. Plus, high-speed internet (which is pretty kickass, admittedly). For two hundred dollars per month.

How does that compare with what you’re paying? I don’t know why I’m asking this question, because I know I’ll just find out we’re paying more than anybody, anywhere. And that will make my left eye twitch. But let’s continue with it, regardless.

Also, any idea why they’re pushing that telephone landline crap? People at work have told me they’re being strong-armed by their cable company to add a landline, as well. We don’t need it, and haven’t had one in years. And my fear… it’ll be “free” for six or eight months, and quietly not be “free” anymore. Right?

Anyway, if you’d like to compare your TV/internet fees, please do so in the comments. Go ahead, fuel my bitterness.

And I’m calling it a day, my friends.

Have a great weekend!

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What Are Your Opinions On Pie And Adult Birthdays?

Hello Surf Reporters! Before we get started on this questionable endeavor I want to remind you guys to please pass through one of our Amazon links before doing your holiday shopping this year. ‘Tis the season for continuous reminders. I don’t want to overstep here, but here’s an item that I believe would make a wonderful stocking stuffer. Really beautiful, and tasteful too. Grab two or three! You know, after you use one of our links.

Tomorrow is my birthday, which doesn’t mean a whole lot to me at this point. I mean, seriously. As Adam Carolla says, being born is not exactly a unique achievement. Even Hitler had a birthday. It was fun when I was a kid, of course, but at this point… the number just keeps getting higher and higher and I get closer and closer to a nervous breakdown. Sweet sainted mother of the Trivago Guy! How did I get so old, so fast?

In any case, Toney went out and bought me a birthday pie. I assumed it would be blueberry, since that’s my established “favorite,” but she went with coconut cream. Fine by me. My faves: blueberry, coconut cream, lemon meringue, chocolate cream. I also like many additional pies, but those four are automatics.

Popular pies I don’t really like: pecan and pumpkin.

I don’t really like pumpkin anything, to be honest, and I like it even less when it’s pronounced “punkin.” Fuck that trendy gourd! Back when I was still imbibing, I’d be amazed during this time of year by the number of people who pretended to shit themselves over the prospect of drinking pumpkin beer. Blecch. What’s wrong with beer flavored beer? I was never a fan of the novelty brews. They can ram their pumpkin beers deep and on a rightward slant.

But I haven’t had any alcohol whatsoever since mid-July. Crazy, huh? It’s coming up on six months now. The disappointing thing? I haven’t lost any weight. That’s probably because I’ve replaced the beer with all this pie. And ice cream. I’m on an ice cream kick too, especially this stuff. The All Natural version only. It’s more expensive, but holy shitballs is it good. I usually get the All Natural Homemade Vanilla, and pour an ultra-liberal amount (a Bernie serving) of Hershey’s syrup on top. Freaking great.

So yeah… I’m still fat. Fat and old, and getting older. But my liver is now processing new kinds of toxins! Hell yeah. Pass the Sam’s Club flat of strudel.

I need to go now. A new workday beckons with a gnarled devil claw.

If you have anything on pie — automatic favorites, least favorites, shit you’ve never tasted before and never will — please tell us about it in the comments. Also, what’s your feeling on birthdays at this point? Do you celebrate at all? What are your expectations? I literally have none, and I’m not kidding. I’m starting to freak out, man.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!