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.
--
Wow, it's Friday already. How did that happen? Pretty cool. I guess it
helps when you're actually busy at work, and arguing with people, and
muttering profane insults under your breath all day, huh? Awesome.
Another successful and fulfilling work week in the bank.
Tonight I'm going to watch a movie called Christmas
Evil, which was suggested by one of your fellow Surf Reporters.
I'd never heard of it, know nothing about it, and am not sure what to
expect. Just the way I like it.... It's so much better when you don't go
into something with a handcart full of prejudices, ya know? When it
comes to this movie, I'm as open-minded as we all pretend to be about
everything.
I rented the DVD from Netflix, which continues to skip right over Black
Christmas, even though it's been at the top of my queue for
weeks. The pricks. I need me some old-school holiday-themed mass-murder.
To add insult to injury, they sent me a Homicide: Life on the Streets
disc that was broken in half. I'm not kidding, it was in two pieces.
Plus, the sleeve looked like somebody had recently wiped their ass with
it.
George is getting irritated!
-- I got a message yesterday that chilled me to the bone. It said it's
now time for me to migrate from my Adelphia email, to Comcast.
"It's simple!" they say. And "it only takes a few
minutes!" Yeah? Well, how come my nuts already hurt?
-- Toney and I are trying to buy a new stove for our kitchen. The one we
inherited when we bought the house is, as they say, shit. All the rest
of our appliances are the same brand and white. The stove is another
brand, and some kind of sickly beige. The oven gets red-hot on one side,
and a mild pinkish hot on the other. And it's just crying out to be in a
landfill somewhere.
So, we've been looking around, and found one that meets our needs at
Sears. It's on sale for eighty bucks off, and we almost bought it. But
wait! Through my job they offer us discounts on various items, and we
can buy Sears gift cards at fifteen percent less than face value. Maybe
we should order the cards, I told Toney excitedly, then use them to buy
the stove?! She reluctantly agreed, and that's what we did.
And now Fed-Ex has been trying to deliver
the damn things all week. Somehow they seem to know exactly when nobody
will be home, and they require a freakin' signature. The sale ends
tomorrow, and today is our last chance at receiving the gift cards. I'm
probably going to end up driving around in the dark tonight, frantically
running my hands through my hair and trying to hold back the tears, in a
desperate attempt at finding the Fed-Ex distribution center.
We should've just bought the stupid stove.
-- On a happier note, I had a little birthday money still festering in
my savings account, left over from late November. It was calling to me: Jeeeeeeff,
please spend me. Spend me now! Just think of all the beautiful things I
can buy you. Since this freaked me out a little, a bank account with
a voice like Marilyn Monroe's, I decided to get rid of it.
I had fifty dollars to play with, and here's where it went. Oh yeah.
That's my purchase summary from yourmusic dotcom. And the discs will be
delivered today. How do I know? I just know. I have a sixth sense for
such things. All my life I've been able to predict the mail. Seriously,
I should be on the Tonight Show or something, predicting the
mail.
Anyway, if you have the same strain of mental illness as I do, yourmusic
is a great resource for cheap CDs. They raised their prices on January
1, from $5.99 to $6.99 -- free shipping. But it's still a great deal. As
somebody once said on Monty Python (or was it Murder, She
Wrote?), my nipples are exploding with delight.
-- Will, the keeper of the blanket, has announced the addition of a few
new quotes to his Surf Report quotes page. You can check 'em out here,
at the top of the list. Thanks Will, as always. I appreciate your
ongoing efforts.
-- And finally, the question of the day.... Sometime over the holidays
Toney mentioned a phrase her grandfather used to use, and I thought it
was hilarious. Whenever he'd walk into a room and smell something
questionable, as if there'd recently been an assplosion, he'd sniff the
air and say, "Did somebody just open a can of peaches in
here?"
Why is that so funny? I'm laughing all over again.
My Dad holds a black belt in that sort of thing. He's a master of the
old-time, colorful sayings. For instance, a bucktoothed person "can
eat an ear of corn through a Venetian blind." A garbage truck is a
"maggot-masher." A fat person is "two hoe-handles across
the ass." A person who talks too much is "windier than a sack
of buttholes." And whenever someone tells a story with too many
unnecessary details, they "went all the way around Fisher's hog
pond" with it.
What are the rest of 'em? I don't think we'll be able to catalog them
all, but we can give it a try. What mildly-bizarre country-fried phrases like that have you
heard, perhaps from your parents or grandparents, and remembered all
your life? Use the comments link below to tell us about it.
--
Wow, it's Friday already. How did that happen? Pretty cool. I guess it
helps when you're actually busy at work, and arguing with people, and
muttering profane insults under your breath all day, huh? Awesome.
Another successful and fulfilling work week in the bank.