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.
--
The situation with my aching back got better yesterday as the day wore
on. By the time I came home from work I was walking with only a slight
stoop, instead of all the twitching and dragging I'd been doing earlier.
I started the day as "the gimp" from Deadwood, and
returned as Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. A vast improvement.
However, I'm back to square-one this morning. It took me ten minutes to
get out of bed, and that's no joke. When I was finally upright, I
felt like I'd accomplished one of the world's greatest feats. Like I was
freakin' Neil Armstrong or something. And as I sit here in the bunker on
the official TheWVSR dining room chair with the back broken off, I'm not
feeling so good. Could it possibly be worse than yesterday? I
don't really want to say those words out loud, but I'm worried that it
might be true.
We're supposed to leave on our first camping trip of the season on
Friday, and here I am all gnarled-up and pathetic. If it's not one
thing, it's another steamer trunk full of bullshit.
-- Do you ever yell out a burst of nonsense when you're hit with a jolt
of pain? I always have, and this morning, when I was attempting to hoist
my ass off the mattress, I'm almost certain I hollered out the phrase,
"Sony Walkman sack o' shellac!" That shit's scarier than the
owls yesterday.
-- I just received an auto-renewal notice for my "backstage
pass" at Phil Hendrie's website.
When he announced his retirement several weeks ago, I assumed I'd stop
forking over my $6.95 per month once he left the air.
But, a funny thing's happened. He's gone and made the site goddamn
unleavable. (Phil, I wish I knew how to quit you.) During the final
weeks a huge amount of vintage material was added, including complete
streaming shows dating all the way back to 2002, and dozens (hundreds?)
of lengthy character segments from even earlier.
A lot of this classic stuff was previously banned by his syndicator,
because of post-Jackson nipple hysteria. But now it's back.
And
even more exciting.... in October the site will no longer be owned by
Premier Radio, it'll be Phil's with no corporate strings attached. He
promises big, exciting things -- like every show in its entirety from
the Los Angeles era. And that means ten years of Phil Hendrie at the
peak of his powers.
So, forget about quitting. I'm just getting started.
Yesterday I listened to a sick and twisted "interview" (from
early 2003) with a father who's under fire because he insists on
spanking his fourteen year old daughter, skirt-up underwear-down -- sometimes in front of his poker buddies, and once in front of her date.
The callers wanted to lynch that bastard. Heh.
-- I'm blasting the Hoodoo Gurus this morning. Just thought you'd want
to know. Are those guys underrated, or what? I submit that they are.
-- Since I can't seem to stop obsessing about the subject, check this
shit out. It's a veritable clearinghouse of paranoia-generators. We're
scheduled to visit HersheyPark next month, and
Knoebels in a few weeks,
and I probably won't let the Secrets get on anything more extreme than
the antique cars.
Thanks internet! Thanks a lot. Now I look at the
Scrambler and see nothing but a giant hand-mixer, fixin' to whip up
another batch of L'il Fudge Stripe Amputees.
-- A few days ago I opened an account at Sharebuilder, an online
brokerage service for people who don't know shit about what they're
doing, and have no money, but want to play around in the stock market.
Yes, in a couple of weeks I will have something new to obsess about, and
will be monitoring the performance of my "portfolio" roughly a
hundred times per day. I might even check into the feasibility of having
one of those Gomez Addams ticker-tape machines installed at the
Compound.
I'm purchasing Sirius Satellite Radio the first time out, and next month
I'll probably do the same. I have it set up so that I make a buy on the
first Tuesday of every month. And I have dreams of someday parlaying it
all into a balance in the high three-figures, at least. God bless
the United States of America.
-- The Monuments to Buck project is getting off to a fast start. Check
it out, yo.
-- And I'm gonna leave you now with yesterday's Clive Bull topic, which
is.... a bit strange. His question: how often do you wash your bedspread
or comforter?
A lot of his callers said they never wash theirs, and that
led to an offshoot discussion about other washable things that never get
washed. Like winter coats.
Got anything to say about that? I suspect
that Clive is still under the influence of World Cup fever and isn't
thinking straight, but I can't prove it....
More of this stuff tomorrow.
And by the way, my back situation has
improved remarkably during the writing of this update. I think I'm
operating at 80% capacity at this point, and that's not bad.
Perhaps
it's only a first-thing-in-the-morning deal now, and I'm on the verge
of, um, putting this behind me? I sure hope so, because Toney wants her
long-handled spoons back.
--
The situation with my aching back got better yesterday as the day wore
on. By the time I came home from work I was walking with only a slight
stoop, instead of all the twitching and dragging I'd been doing earlier.
I started the day as "the gimp" from Deadwood, and
returned as Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. A vast improvement.