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.
--
There were snow squalls and all sorts of unpredictable weather
shenanigans in these parts yesterday, so Toney stayed in Philadelphia.
And, of course, that meant no LOST 'neath the Scrote Watcher last
night, or anything of the sort. We had to make arrangements for the
Secrets to go to friends' houses after school, then it was dinner from
Subway, Spongebob on DVD, and a general gloomy feeling to it all.
Hopefully she'll be back today, 'cause the novelty is starting to wear a
tad thin. In fact, we might now be post-tad.
There's a natural progression to these sorts of things, and the downward
spiral is already in progress. First night: Damon's. Second night:
Subway. Tonight, if necessary, we'll probably hit McDonald's or that
shithole Burger King. Then we'll completely bottom out on Saturday and
begin scouring the pantry at home, and it'll be crap like spaghetti with
pork 'n' beans -- the bachelor's marinara.
It's a sad state of affairs, and everyone can feel it. Even our dog Andy
is down in the dumps. He keeps walking from room to room looking for
Toney, then sighing like a man at an opera. And I know exactly the way
he feels.
-- Speaking of McDonald's.... Do any of you remember a song kids used to
sing back in the day, based on a Mickey D's TV commercial? It went
something like this: McDonald's is your kind of place/ hamburgers in
your face/ french fries between your toes/ dill pickles up your nose....
Any recollection of this particular 1970's playground gem? What are the
rest of the lyrics? Wasn't there something about a heart attack in there
somewhere, or possibly hyper-aggressive rectal cancer? I'm not sure.
How did these types of things get spread around, anyway? Toney was
raised in Nevada, and I grew up in West Virginia, but we're familiar
with much of the same Stupid Shit from grade school. How did it happen,
before internet and cell phones and the like? Any ideas?
I need answers, people! I'm sitting here on the cusp of a makeshift
marinara situation, needing some answers.
-- I finally got my ancient panoramic photo of Dunbar, WV framed. It was
taken on September 23, 1924, is fifty inches wide and ten inches
tall. I bought it years ago off eBay, and it's been sitting on my desk
ever since, all rolled up. I always wanted to have it framed, but the
procedure was, as they, cost-prohibitive.
But last week I got all jacked-up about
it (again) and took it to a local frame shop. The woman measured it,
crunched some numbers, and said, "How about $136, plus tax?"
That's a lot, but not as much as I'd anticipated. So I steadied myself
by leaning on the counter, took a deep breath, and told her to do it.
Yesterday they called, and I went in and picked it up. The thing is so
huge it spanned the entire backseat of my Camry. I was afraid I might
not be able to get one of the doors closed, and would have to roll a
window down or something.
But I got it home, and it's extra-cool. I can see my Aunt Charlotte's
house on there, looking almost exactly the same as it does today, and a
woman hanging laundry on a clothesline. The old Fletcher Enamel plant is
chugging great pillars of blackness into the sky (commerce!), and
a large part of the town is nothing but open fields.
In 1924 three out of four of my grandparents were already living in
Dunbar, and they were all teenagers, or thereabouts. I wonder what they
were doing the moment the picture was taken? What did youngsters do for
fun back then, anyway? Did regular folks even own radios in 1924? I
don't think so. Wonder if any of them knew each other yet? Probably not.
But it's a small town now, and was much smaller then, so it's possible.
The whole thing is pretty weird. If any one of my grandparents had moved
away from the town in that photograph, gone into the service a little
earlier or later, or made as few as just one different decision,
my fat ass might not be jiggling here today.
As Gomer Pyle once said: make's you think.
-- I had some other things I was going to write about today, but I'm all
outta steam here. So screw it. I'll leave you now with this
item from the Eddie Van Halen: Wotta Douche desk.
And an amusing link submitted by our old friend Buck, right
here.
--
There were snow squalls and all sorts of unpredictable weather
shenanigans in these parts yesterday, so Toney stayed in Philadelphia.
And, of course, that meant no LOST 'neath the Scrote Watcher last
night, or anything of the sort. We had to make arrangements for the
Secrets to go to friends' houses after school, then it was dinner from
Subway, Spongebob on DVD, and a general gloomy feeling to it all.