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Archive for October, 2011

One Random Thought

How does an overdraft fee* make sense? You’re penalizing poor people for being poor, by making them even poorer. Hopefully next time I end up in detox** they’ll start serving me shots.

*I didn’t overdraft recently.

**I wasn’t in detox recently.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Uh, I really don’t have anything. It’s Weird Al’s birthday. Here’s some Amish Paradise.

The Snake Feeding

Ever since seeing the movie Road Trip it has been one of my lifelong goals to witness a snake feeding. The events in the following anecdote occured in mid-February of this year.

During a birthday party, I was informed that meal time for the resident pet snake was imminent. This only happens like once a month. The electricity in the air was palpable. Tensions rose as the frozen corpse of a small rabbit thawed in the bathtub. Not able to take the suspense any more, I walked into the kitchen, positioned myself in the middle of a crowd, and started chanting “Feed the snake, FEED THE SNAKE!” The chant caught on, and a small crowd congregated around the cage. But much to my chagrin, the serpent did not seem to be hungry just then. She did not ravage the deceased hare, and the body was refrozen for later consumption. I was so close to seeing it happen. It was right there! C’mon man!

This is actually pretty similar to what happened:

Free Money Fund Briefer

Time is of the essence and I gotta get out of here quick, so here’s a Free Money Fund update. Found a penny earlier in the week, so the jar now has five cents in it.

I Owned a Phat Farm Polo Shirt For One Day

Remember back in June when I started writing my memoirs? I kind of do, and you can too if you click here. Here is another anecdote I thought I should share. It’s the tale of how a Honolulu-blue Phat Farm brand polo shirt came into my possession in the summer of ’05.

I was standing outside a party at my neighbor’s house one night, and some guy came rushing out the back door, vomiting as he ran. It was mostly whiskey. I know that because some of it landed on my left shoulder and arm, and it’s easy to smell what something is when it’s soaked into your clothes. He felt so bad that he literally gave me the shirt off his back. I kept telling him that I had no use for his Phat Farm apparel, but he really wanted me to have it. So I took it, went home, threw it on the floor, and changed into one of my own non-Phat Farm shirts. I tried to think of something cool to do with that polo, and the best thing I came up with was to throw it in the trash.

Dream Analysis

Here’s a dream I had.

I was driving in a car with Kurtwood Smith (Red Forman from That 70’s Show), when we drove past a gigantic mansion that apparently belonged to Topher Grace (Eric Forman from That 70’s Show, although he never actually appeared in the dream). In what appeared to be a jealous rage, Kurtwood began to fire an automatic weapon (also known as “sprayin’ the place”) out the window of the car at the enormous home, causing a shower of broken glass and other debris.

What does that even mean? I haven’t watched That 70’s Show in like ten years. What is my subconscious mind trying to tell me? Feel free to comment with interpretations.

The Restroom Review – Zimmerman Super America

October 18, 2011 1 comment

Nestled on the northwestern crest of the Twin Cities metropolitan area, the Zimmerman Super America served up a dull helping of familiarity. The corporate cookie-cutter design of the space offered no surprises, right down to the putrid filth of the room. That may sound brash, but believe me, I’ve been around long enough to know that if you go into a gas station bathroom and don’t find a disgusting combination of hair/fluids, something is disturbingly wrong. Quite frankly, I would have had to knock points off if I could actually have seen myself clearly in the mirror. Luckily for this branch of Super America, everything was as dirty as it should have been this afternoon. Due to the heavy amount of airborne pathogens invisibly screaming around the room, I don’t even know why I bothered to wash my hands, but I did, and it led me to discover some caveman-esque etchings on the paper towel dispenser. From what I was able to decipher, I learned that “Justin rules” and “LaRhonda is a thieving slut,” both nice touches that gave the above-mentioned cookie-cutter design a more personal, local flavor. I did notice that the machine that sells glow-in-the-dark condoms, a staple of convenience store lavatories, was absent. Perhaps LaRhonda stole it.

Final verdict – Despite the quaint carvings, this restroom had nothing that really made it “pop.”

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