Holy
crap in a Bundt pan...
Due to the
recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be
clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to
serve, baby.
The
State of My Fat Ass A journal of
sorts, updated every once in a while.
--
I watched the second-half of the Fleet Enema Gator Bowl (or whatever) on
Monday. I'm not much of a football fan, but this was a big game and it
featured West Virginia, so I tuned in. You know, once I remembered it
was on.
It was halftime when I turned on the TV, and there was some gay man on a
stepladder waving his gloved hands around in an effeminate manner,
apparently giving hints to the marching band on what to play and how to
play it. I've never understood why the waving poofter is necessary.
Don't they practice? I'm not kidding, shouldn't they all know it by now?
Anyway, it looked like WVU was getting its ass kicked. Again. I'm no
expert, but I know the school has a long history of making it to bowl
games, then promptly losing. It appeared this one would end the same way
all the rest of 'em ended; there would be no joy in Mudville, or
Pinch/Quick either. But I decided to stick with it anyway.
And a funny thing happened.... As soon as I started watching, WVU began
playing well. They pulled off some sort of gimmicky deal, called a
"sleeper play," then it was all West Virginia from there. And
they ended up winning, fucking winning, the Big Game.
All because of me.
-- I'm not sure I have this story completely correct, but it's close. My
brother bought, or was given, one of those deers covered in Christmas
lights you see in people's front yards. He set it up in mid-December,
and all was well with the world.
Then one night he came home from work and the lights on the body of the
thing were no longer working, only the head was lit. And it was wagging
to and fro, this floating deer head, in front of their house. Back and
forth it went, as he stood there watching: in perfect cadence, a wagging
and levitating brightly-lit animal face to celebrate the holidays.
-- I was passing through a room yesterday morning, and one of Gerald
Ford's many funerals was on TV. The camera focused on a woman sitting
amongst the mourners, and I thought, "What the hell's Mary Kate
Olsen doing there?!" Then I realized it was Nancy Reagan.
-- Speaking of that, is the post office
finally going to start delivering the mail again today? Shit man, it's
been, what, a week? I have CDs to hoard, and Netflix movies to
obsess about. I can't have these big gaps, screwing up my mental illness
rhythms. And why are we going so overboard about President Ford, anyway?
He seemed like a good guy, but I can't remember the mail stopping
because of any other presidential deaths. Heck, I think the post office
worked extended hours when Nixon died. But I could be wrong about
that....
-- I turned on a lamp in the family room this morning, and it was
shockingly bright. I asked Toney if she'd replaced the bulb recently,
and she said no. Very weird. And it just kept getting brighter and
brighter, until you could barely walk into the room without shielding
your eyes; it looked like somebody was filming a TV show in there.
Finally there was a loud popping noise, and it went out.
Have you ever encountered anything like this before?! I'm 44, and it's a
new one on me. Sweet Jesus.
-- Apparently I'm going to have to go to California in a couple of
weeks. Since I started my current job, in early 2000, I've been told, on
a consistent basis, that my Nashville counterpart and I will be making
occasional trips to the home office. But it's never happened, not once.
However, my boss actually sent me an itinerary yesterday. It's never
gotten to the itinerary stage before, so I'm starting to believe it
might really happen. It looks like I'll be flying out there one day,
have meetings and highly uncomfortable meals the next, then fly home on
day three. A short but painful journey.
And, of course, it's all expense-account funded, meaning I'll have to
fork over the cash for everything up-front, then The Company will pay me
back when they get around to it. We're supposed to stay at a fancy-ass
hotel($), fly into a tiny boutique airport($$), and on top of
everything else, I'll probably end up having to tuck my shirt in.
The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach....
-- This is a pretty interesting site, listing "strange"
happenings in thousands of U.S. cities. What's happened in yours? All I
got was a piss-ant little UFO sighting.
-- On a similar note, here are Psychic Nikki's(?!) predictions for 2007.
Last year, she claims, she predicted the death of Lou Rawls. Why does
that statement make me laugh? This year, according to Nikki, thousands
of us will perish because of poison
potatoes(!). As well as a bunch of
other horrible things.... What are your predictions for 2007? Let's see
if we can do better than this so-called psychic. I have a feeling we
can. Use the comments link below.
-- And finally, we have something new from our good friend Buck. The two
of us had a lengthy phone conversation over the holidays, and I was
laughing my ass off. He's a funny guy, straight up. And contrary to
popular belief, I didn't know him until I started this website; he's not
one of my old Dunbar buddies, like Bill and Rocky and Chris. But our
conversations have a way of branching off into myriad ridiculousness,
and veering here and there, as if we have a long history in the bank.
Good times. And here's his latest.
--
I watched the second-half of the Fleet Enema Gator Bowl (or whatever) on
Monday. I'm not much of a football fan, but this was a big game and it
featured West Virginia, so I tuned in. You know, once I remembered it
was on.