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.
--
An open letter to Matt Drudge: Sir, I visited your website yesterday in
good faith, expecting the usual mixture of political headlines and
"wacky" news stories. And what did I receive in return? That's
right, high resolution photographs
of Harry Potter in the nude, one featuring a full shot of his private
hair. I am both flabbergasted and, as Harry (or should it be Hairy?)
himself might put it, gobsmacked.
What's next for the Drudge Report? Johnny Whittaker shirtless and riding
on the back of a stallion at full trot? Bobby Buntrock in a pair of
assless pants? While these references might not be as contemporary and
"with-it" as you're accustomed to, down there in your hep
bachelor pad in tony Miami, I think you get my drift.
Mr. Drudge, you owe us all an apology. This might come as a shock to
you, but we do not patronize your site for photographic evidence of
puberty amongst the child stars. I thank you very much for your
attention to this matter.
-- And now that that's out of the way.... Something very strange is
going on at work. It has to do with the loudspeakers/paging system
throughout the building.
In the old days they played XM Radio over the thing, and it was pretty
great. One day we'd hear a Hits of the 70s channel, then Classic Rock,
and maybe a Motown station sprinkled in. But my favorite was a channel
that seemingly played nothing but old reruns of Casey Kasem's American
Top 40. I loved that. I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat,
eager to learn if "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)" would hold
the Top Ten for yet another week.
But somewhere along the line, they stopped playing music over the
loudspeakers. Apparently a member of upper management was tossing and
turning at night, worried that somebody somewhere might be having a good
time. So he ordered that the plug be pulled. Since then it's just been
people paging each other, and cries of Code White! whenever
another person's heart seizes up beneath the pressure of forty years of
cheesesteak hoagies.
Until Monday, that is. All this week there have been bizarre sounds
coming out of the paging system, and sometimes it's frighteningly loud.
I'm not sure what the hell's going on.
Yesterday when I arrived there was white
noise blasting out of the speakers, so amplified I thought it must be a
joke. It sounded like a TV tuned to a channel where nothing is
broadcast. Like channel 749 or something. And it was cranked. I
asked the security guard about it, and he just shrugged, like it was
nothing out of the ordinary.
As I walked to my office the noise started fading in and out, and the
volume was rising and falling. Eventually I could hear voices buried
deep beneath the hissing, and possibly uproarious laughter. WTF?? It was
like something off side four of the White Album.
I sat at my desk blinking real fast as the bizarreness continued. At one
point there was some kind of game show erupting from the speakers,
complete with all manner of buzzers, dinging, and wild applause. And I
think they were speaking one of the Baltic languages. Then it would fade
out, and it was if we were suddenly eavesdropping on the air traffic
controllers at the Houston airport, or somewhere Down South.
A woman walked past my door, on her way to the pee chamber, and someone
interrupted the cacophony with a page. And the person's voice was so
thunderous, the woman in the hall literally covered up, as if in
physical danger. There were points throughout the day when I had to
close my office door because I literally couldn't talk on the phone. All
the shrieking and animal sounds and engines revving blocked out whatever
was happening on the other end of the telephone.
What the hell, man? Is it some kind of medical experiment, where
scientists are somehow broadcasting the sounds heard inside the head of
a severe schizophrenic? I just don't know. But it's freaking me out a
little. And today I'm getting to the bottom of it.
Which brings me to my next point.... If, by any chance, my lifeless
body is found in a landfill during the next few days, please do me a
favor and print all this out, and give it to the authorities. I feel
like I might've passed through a portal and entered a Dean Koontz novel
here.
And nothing good can come from that.
Thanks for your help.
-- Finally, it's time for our Question of the Day. This article reports
on a recent poll, where people were asked what they believe to be the
"worst sounds in the world." As you can see, the answers
aren't very creative. Fingernails on a chalkboard? Please. What about
lip smacking, or Sean Penn talking, or the person in line in front of
you saying, "Yes, can you tell me a little bit about the Big Mac
sandwich?"
I have complete confidence that we can do better. Use the comments link
below.
--
An open letter to Matt Drudge: Sir, I visited your website yesterday in
good faith, expecting the usual mixture of political headlines and
"wacky" news stories. And what did I receive in return? That's
right, high resolution 