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.
--
When I was a kid my mother would often enlist my brother and me in the
household chores. I guess she thought it was teaching us something
useful, I don’t know.
But we’d be forced to dust the furniture with some nasty-ass rag that
was stiff and loaded with about a hundred years-worth of Pledge
drippin’s.And we’d have
to take the trash out to the garage, which required one of us to leave
the air conditioned house in the summer, and walk all the way across the
backyard in the raw elements.And
sometimes we’d even be “asked” to vacuum the carpet.
Or, as we say in West
Virginia:run the sweeper.
I hated running the sweeper, because I was always afraid one of my
friends would walk by and see me.Remember
that freaky Queen video where Freddie Mercury was sashaying about with a
vacuum cleaner and tits?That’s
exactly the way it made me feel.And
I can’t have that.
Of course I vacuum all the time now, it’s one of my default jobs.And when I was tending to the carpet in the family room this past
weekend, I remembered something from the old days.
Were any of you warned to never vacuum in front of a TV that was turned
on?Or is that something
that only happened at our house?My
parents always made us turn the television off before we started
emasculating ourselves.Because,
they said, it would cause dead
spots in the picture tube.What
in the hand-painted hell?!
It’s one of those little things that remains buried in the folds and
scar tissue of the brain, and suddenly springs free decades later.
Can any of you shed any light on it for me?Was this a legitimate concern, sweeper-generated picture tube
dead spots?What do you know
about this?I have a feeling
it might be boolshit.Any ideas?
And just so you know….We
always had the big console TVs that were an actual piece of furniture.They weighed about a million pounds, and probably had a nineteen
inch screen, or something.Heh.Oh, and one of them was a Quasar, with the “works in a
drawer.”Fancy.
--My friend Bill sent me
this news article yesterday, about some doucheketeer who jumped to his
death from the balcony of his apartment.The story contains this sentence, which makes me laugh every time
I think about it:
A
woman in the building who was looking out her window, waiting for her
daughter to arrive, saw a set of legs go by, Sisson said.
A set of legs.Man, that’s
good, good stuff.
--I received this note from
Surf Reporter BCD a few days ago:
I thought you might be
interested in something I uploaded to YouTube – an interview with the
Replacements from 1984, that prominently features Bob.
The interview was conducted by a fat guy named Mike Eck, and was part of
a "video magazine" from the '80s called "Real George's
Back Room." The VHS cassette has been sitting in a box in my closet
for 22 years, and I finally dug it out and digitized it.
--This is Sad Kermit.What’s that frog so bummed about, anyway??And is he blowing a dog puppet in that video?Did I see that correctly?I
guess I’m sorta confused…
--Any opinions on
Sunday’s episode of The Sopranos?I thought it was excellent, and the Monopoly brawl hilarious.When Tony got up with that green plastic house stuck to the side
of his face, I was dying.Still
a great show….
--In Little League the
coaches would often tell us to “make some noise” when our team was
in the field.Then all of us
would start yelling complete nonsense, something like “Uuumbay
uuuuumbay.”So it wasn’t
just random nonsense, it was organized nonsense.
How does something like that get started?What in the Ford Frick is an umbay?And why am I thinking about it in 2007?
-- I'm currently addicted to the new(ish) Belle and Sebastian CD.
Sure,
they sing like they've got a gayness in the anus, but that dude can write
one hell of a pop song.
--Have any of you noticed
that Greta Van Susteren’s facelift is starting to slip a little?I think it’s time she goes in for a tune-up, because she’s
slowly but surely looking like a stroke victim again.At this point she’s got an almost full-blown Buddy Hackett
mouth going, just like she did on CNN.
Also, isn’t it about time for her to arrange for another college
student to be kidnapped?That
Anna Nicole Smith crap is wearing mighty thin.She’d better send someone out to snatch a jogging co-ed soon,
or I predict her ratings will start drooping like the right side of her
face.
Hello?
--Yeah, this thing is about to come off the tracks….I’m going to turn it over to our old friend Buck now, and go
buy a sweaty bag of lard through a hole cut in the side of a Burger King,
and get myself centered again.Here ya go.
.
Sure,
they sing like they've got a gayness in the anus, but that dude can write
one hell of a pop song.