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- Dead Wrong TurnJanuary 7
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Guest Writer: Jim McPartland
I was heading back from Avon, CT on my way to Milford Saturday from a writers networking meeting. I was on my way to its annual Oyster Festival, an event that draws 40,000. Foghat was the free headliner. Bob ‘Jake’ McManus loved Foghat as a kid. I liked them too and it’s been years since I’ve heard much of their stuff.
You knew Jake was cool (albeit slightly uneven like myself) when in 6th grade at the bus stop at 7 in the morning he’d be air guitaring and scream to Slow Ride. A few of the neighbors occasionally joined us, just not as the chorus. Mostly with the Police. And not Twonicus’ Police either. The real ones who told us to mute the tunes.
My 1st mistake in the comedy of errors was staying to the left at the junction of the Merritt Parkway (Rt. 15) and I-91. Both can bring you to Milford. I was talking on the phone and if I thought about it, I’d have veered right and gone 15. I’ve read stuff that says when faced with a choice of right or left when getting in queues, left is better as most people choose right. That theory never works for me anywhere, be it the grocery store, bank, beer line. I always end up waiting longer and watch a mutant cruise by me in the other line to finish their business while I’m basically standing there with my dick in my hand. Right hand at that. Two hours later, I’m out with my one bag of chips, $20 or a lukewarm Bud Light.
I was now on 91. On a Saturday,
- A Christmas IronyJanuary 5
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This year, Christmas for me included a trip to the hospital.
I woke up Christmas day with a fairly bad headache. Knowing that a trip to my in-laws would likely make said headache worse as opposed to better, I gulped down a few aspirin. Suddenly remembering the entitled shrill of my gluttonous sister in law’s voice, I gulped down a few more.
An hour later and I was fine. My Husband and I stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank before making a trip. Since his family can’t cook worth a shit, we decided to grab a few snacks to fill up on. Better a bag of candy than a dry ass turkey dinner.
In the gas station, I felt a little moisture in my ear. Thinking it was just some leftover shampoo I failed to rinse completely after washing my hair, I absentmindedly wiped it with the tips of my fingers. However, instead of finding shampoo on my hands, my fingers were wet with blood.
“Hey!” I said to my Husband, “My ear is bleeding!”
He came over to check. “Oh my God, does it hurt?”
“No, not at all.”
“Can you hear out of it?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s no big deal. It will probably stop by the time we get to your Grandmother’s house.”
I grabbed a tissue so I could periodically mop up the blood. It was bleeding pretty heavily. And unfortunately, 3 hours later, it was still gushing blood. Finally, my in laws convinced my Husband to take me to the emergency room.
One after anoth
- I Shit You NotDecember 8 2008
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I was supposed to post This Link and tell you all that I got 58 of them correct. I’m not sure why the guy who runs my site wants you all to believe that I’m smarter than I am since it’s a well known fact that I’m a fucking moron, but I’m going to fess up right now: I only got 17.
Yes, I said 17.
Does it make it better or worse that I could have gotten more, if only I could figure out how to spell them?
Don’t answer that. Let’s all just accept the fact I’m damn near functionally retarded and never mention any of this ever again.
- How Children Cope With FailureDecember 8 2008
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Kyle was a jackass.
Four months after hiring him for a pretty prestigious paid internship and that was the nicest quality I could ascribe to him, too. Kyle spent his work week fooling around, hitting on the female interns, and surfing the Internet. Assigning Kyle tasks was an exercise in futility. He was too busy playing obnoxious practical jokes on people to do even some minor filing. Kyle was always at least 20 minutes late for his shift; you could set your watch by him. And at least 3 times he had left for his lunch break and never returned. Even more ludicrous than all of this, Kyle nearly always complained because he wasn’t trusted enough to do anything ‘fun’ or ‘important’ or ‘challenging.’
From my point of view, Kyle should have been thanking God he still had his job. Furthermore, if I couldn’t trust him to close the window, how the hell was I supposed to trust him with something ‘challenging?’
Unfortunately, Kyle’s near constant bellyaching drowned out the voice of my better judgment one day. Hoping to motivate Kyle with a little bit of responsibility, I decided to put him in charge for one hour while I met an important client for lunch. Since almost everyone was out of the office for the day, his only real duties would have been answering the phones, taking messages, and avoiding setting the place on fire.
Kyle seemed pretty thrilled by the fact I trusted him to do more than put stickers on files under direct su
- Violent Acres Classics: Black ThanksgivingNovember 27 2008
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In this post, originally published November 27th, 2006, V laments crappy food and non-alcoholic festivities, but still finds time to go Unicorn hunting. Enjoy.