Big Weekend

 

I got caught

Courage: 1532, 'Mommy': 2009

MARIETTA, GA -- We saw Theatre in the Square's "gripping recounting of Sir Thomas More’s moral struggle to obey his conscience," "A Man for All Seasons."

This exemplary, unwavering gentleman proved without a trace of uncertainty that I am, by comparison, "A Man for Only About an Hour or Two on Occasional August 19ths if There's a Nice Breeze and the Relative Humidity Falls Well Under 35% and There Is No Hulking Meany Burpin' Tuna Fish Fumes Into My Nose While Thumb-Twisting My Earlobes for My Lunch Money and I Remembered to Stock a Goodly Supply of Bactine and a Band-Aid With a Hello Kitty on It and the Light Is Left On So I Can See When I Come Out From Under the Covers and, First, I'll Need a Drink of Water and a Snack Pudding: Chocolate."

In Color.

Oh No I Di'n't!

I romance under the name Nate the Hapless Grifter.

I saw Mommy validating Santa's parking.

I lived "Marley and Me." He slurred reggae. I dreaded his locks. He was stoned, munchied my Crispix.

I was a celebrity endorsement / product placement agent. I represented Checker Cab Calloway and Britney Vlasic Pickle Spears.

My cat's older. He's losing his hairballs. I remedy the situation, feeding him tiny wigs.

The reason I have no children: double-sided tape.

Not only can I snap my fingers, but I can also snap my toes, however neither summons me a garçon.

Hot Dog Sign

I try my best to slide through life, doing as I'm told. I guess I can be too literal.

1. I bought a ticket and watched the mutt movie.

2. Back outside--

Let's just say I'm blogging this from jail....

Ball of Shame

"Do not place in microwave oven. Do not freeze."

In other words, do not stress.

My Deepest, Heartfelt Apologies

This afternoon, I visited the supermarket to pick up a few items. I parked my shopping cart in Produce, while administering the peaches selection process at a nearby counter. The bananas looked good, too.

I proceeded on my way, browsing casually. It was, perhaps, 10 minutes later over on aisle #8, when I looked down to surprise and befuddlement. I had unknowingly hijacked the wrong cart back at the mangoes and taken someone's toilet paper for a stroll.


I am so sorry, stranger. If it is any consolation, I left your wipe in the Cereal Department, next to some good roughage.

Even More Bad News

First, my cat dies and the Weedwacker works.

Now, I learn I've been replaced as Patio Daddy-O.


Not much is harder to bear than turning in one's spatula and squirt relish.

Photo Finish

The Big Squeeze

Continued From: Pardon Me, Boy, This Is the Paparazzi Poo-Poo

Oh, man.

The past few days were a debilitating blur. I've been huddled with law enforcement officials from the county and state, a team of attorneys in contrasting suspenders, and Homeland Security and their too strong instant coffee. Crunchy.

The Shriners, working back-up Security in teensy, roving, comical funny cars, helped. They streamed around-the-clock tepid seltzer water into my mug filled with French roasted pellets.

I have been firmly advised to not deal with the extortionist who threatens to release photographs of me practicing self defense in my yard.

Donna and I have been concerned about the large black bear(s) we've seen next to the house, so I gush my urine around outdoors to keep them away. That's a proven, chemically sound remedy.

Nearly a year has elapsed since I began Project Rainbow and the treatment has worked perfectly. No bears have entered our home looking for food. One did peek in at the Wander-Thru Window, but we stop serving breakfast at 10:30 a.m.

Apparently, this swindler, this Pepe, as he calls himself, was stalking me with a telephoto lens sometime last spring. He'd been waiting patiently for a good opportunity to fleece me for his snapshots.

I tell ya, get a little celebrity nowadays and you are toast. Free Blogger blog, I rue the day I acquired thee and thy fame. The paparazzi can't get enough of Mikey.

I've made up my mind. I am not paying the $200,000 ransom to destroy the photos and avoid scrutiny and humiliation. My advisers say I need to deflate the extortion, take away the money motive. I'm to publish the photos myself, right here in the free Blogger blog. Nip it in the bud.

And zip it in the pants.

Oh, man, oh, man, oh, man.

Pardon Me, Boy, This Is the Paparazzi Poo-Poo

To my grave consternation, there is fallout from posting "Urine the Know."

I found this note and photos taped to our door.

Durrit:

Seen story on bear. You whizz your place to run him off.

You seen these pictures?

Got more. Will be in touch.

$$$, 200 grand.

Or else.

Hang loose,

Pepe

Continued: Photo Finish

100 Things About Me #86

Down in the Humps

As previously confessed, I am morally and emotionally weak, due to the despair of living a vegetarian hypocrite's existence, closeted animal cracker eater that I am.

My self-loathing gets worse.

I have a compulsive predilection for camel twos.


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100 Things About Me #85

The Shame

Since 1989, I have been a strict, dedicated vegetarian, yet it grieves me to admit I have not been able to curb my addiction to animal crackers.



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