Things I Bought

I wanted to post something today, but I wasn't sure what to write. So instead I'll just list a few of my recent purchases. First, I bought Kellog's Fruit Harvest Cereal. It is delicious. It has real strawberries and blueberries in it. I'm slowly making the transition from junk food to a healthy, organic diet. I know Kellog's isn't the same as eating a bowl of oats harvested from a farm on the outskirts of town, but it's still the first cereal I've ever enjoyed without the words Cocoa or Crunch on the box.



Did you know that Best Buy isn't selling CDs anymore? I went in for something and all they had was one rack left of the stuff they couldn't get rid of. So I browsed the pile of scraps and came across 1998's Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Blackstar. So add that to the list of things I bought. The production is low-budget and really vibes with the organic message and mood of the album. "You're not strong, only aggressive because the power ain't directed. That's why we are subjected to the will of the oppressive" (Thieves in the Night).


My third purchase was not only organic, but local as well. This lady owns a dog boutique on Main St. She makes all of these quirky dog treats. I bought one shaped like a cannoli. My dogs just wanted to suck the white filling out. Ooh, I also bought a newspaper and read it in the park downtown. I felt like such a grown-up until some kid went flying by on a bike and yelled "Ahh!!" at me. Then I just felt like a doofus (sp?).

Pennsylvania Must Be a Scary Place to Live

This is Dear Deer by comedien Kate Micucci

Killing the Mailman with Calm-Assertive Energy

(Ernie, Red and Dixie)

I get a knock on the door today. So I push thru the barking dogs and step onto the front porch. The screen door shuts behind me as I ask in my most put-on baritone, "Can I help you?" The man in question is a good foot shorter than me, but still has the nerve to say, "I'm from the Post Office. Your mother called yesterday about the mailbox. . ."

My mother? Bitch, you don't know me! I quickly corrected him. "My wife?" "Yes, sorry. She said there was a problem with the height of your mailbox?" "No, that's not what she said. The mailman thinks there is a problem with the height of our mailbox. We think the problem lies in the fact that he has vandalised it". "Well, I don't see any issue with the height. I'll have to talk with him". "Well, you can talk with him, I can talk with him or the police can talk to him. Either way I don't wanna have to worry about the mailman breaking my stuff".

I was feeling a bit frustrated after the encounter. And with Bekki at work today there was no one to yell at. So even though it's been raining all day (all week), I decided to take the pack on a walk. I just finished the Cesar Millan book Be the Pack Leader as well as almost finishing off the entire first season of the Dog Whisperer with Bekki (thank you, Netflix) so I figure I could try and put some of those lessons to practice. The smell of the rain and the trees was invigorating. It just reemphasizes my belief that it's easier to find god in the woods than in the church. If you don't believe me then, hey, just ask my dogs.

Bare-Knuckled Bekki vs. the United States Postal System

I wonder how many times you can actually thump somebody in the temple until the pressure is so great that their head explodes. Bekki called the Post Office today. Some Irish prick who delivers our mail must have a real hard-on for us. Every time he comes by he's got some prank to pull. First it was scattering our mail all over our front lawn. It took me a while to get it, but I see the humor in it now. Then today he places the mail in the slot and rips off the face of the box and leaves THAT lying in the yard. I would have called the Post Office myself, but Bekki's PMS-ing so I figure I'd let her direct all of her pent up rage towards someone other than myself.

The Post Master says he's gonna send somebody out to asses the damage. I keep thinking of the Arlo Guthrie song Alice's Restaurant Massacre where a federal indictment is made out of a simple littering charge. I wonder if we'll have to give DNA samples. While we're at it we can kill two birds with one stone and find out if there's a gene that relates to intolerance of stupidity and petty vandalism. If it exists, I'm sure Bekki's a carrier.

Our minimum credit card payment is $50. We paid $400 this month. But apparently the fiber-optic scanner that reads checks sent in to the Credit Union mistook our 4 for a 9. I'm not that great at math but I believe that leaves a $500 overcharge on our account. Since the card is in Bekki's name, she again was forced to take off the gloves in a verbal beat down between us and the Credit Union. They pussed out, though, and told us to call our bank. Who, in turn, told us to call the credit card company directly. So now we have three agencies sending us complaint forms which will take 7 to 10 business days. By that time we will have entered another pay period, missed our mortgage payment, been foreclosed upon, forced to live on the streets and eat out of the dumpsters behind Ruby Tuesdays. We will have run out of money to pay for antidepressants and will probably realize what dismal existences we live and take our own lives in what will be classified as a murder-suicide (Bekki hates knives). So now the question is whether or not our bank will reimburse us for the funeral costs as our life insurance plans exclude suicide. Which reminds me, I've got to call the bank.

On second thought, I'll just get Bekki to call.

WNCW 88.7

I'll be on air tonight from 12am-4am EST (9am-1am PST). If you're in the Asheville, NC area, it's 88.7. In Charlotte it's 100.3. In Greenville, SC it's 97.3 and in Boone, NC it's 92.9. If you want to listen online just go to the WNCW website at WNCW.org and click on the Listen Live button in the upper left hand corner.

Morning Breath All Day Long

I've been obsessed with fresh breath recently. That doesn't even feel right to say. You should always be concerned with fresh breath I suppose. But with me this is mostly a new phenomenon. That's not to say that before this epiphany, this tidal wave of self-discovery that my breath was foul. But I did smell someone else's breath recently and was shocked. I can't remember who, so for the sake of a good story I'll say it was Ernie.

Ernie likes to eat things like vomit, feces and garbage. He's a dog and his breath is extremely foul, but recently it has started to smell like rancid roast beef. I suppose I should get his teeth cleaned. Ernie was a birthday present for my wife. He was her 25th birthday present to be exact. Not her last in a series of twenty five presents, but a present for her 25th year of life. I got him from the pound. I don't believe in breeders. They're nothing but practitioners of eugenics with less education. And if they are backyard breeders then they usually have no education. "How many people live at your residence?" "Just two. My wife and I". "Ok, she'll have to come down and meet the dog before you adopt him". "But it's a surprise. For her birthday". "I'm sorry, but she'll have to come down before we can release him". So I stopped by Lisa's house. She wasn't busy so I asked her if she could pretend to be Bekki for an hour. She found a ring in her jewelry box and squeezed it onto her ring finger.

Bekki was lying in bed when I walked through the door carrying Ernie. "What type of dog is he?", she asked. I told her he was a Fox Terrier. That's what the nice folks at the pound had told me. Come to find out Ernie is a Rat Terrier. The name is not nearly as impressive, but Teddy Roosevelt had a pack of 'em so I let it go. I carry a box of Altoids with me now for my breath. I don't know if they help. I give Ernie mint flavored dog treats and they sure as hell don't.

A Few Thoughts on Sex

I don't know why people have to mention pussy and tits in casual conversation. Why can't they just say boobs or vagina? Why do they have to mention it at all? Well I don't care to live in a world void of mammary discussion. It's just the linguistics that eat at me. But what's in a name anyway? And who in the hell is Michael DeAntonio? And why are there so many questions in this paragraph? Maybe I'm just feeling inquisitive. Or maybe the mention of female anatomy in the opening sentence hints at how I'm really feeling.

I planted eight blackberry bushes yesterday. I figure a green thumb is better than a thumb up my ass. Or wherever that little Dutch boy has his thumb. Vagina? If the damn things grow I should have a plethora of blackberries to eat. Ah, did you think I was going to say vagina again?

I have about 40 old Playboy Magazines on a bookshelf next to me. They were my grandfathers. It's interesting to see the stylistic changes in the women. Whatever happened to the natural women of the 1960s and '70s? Oh, there's another question! And here's another! Other than the sluts and porn stars, do you know what other group walk around with hairless vaginas? Prepubescent girls. Maybe there's a correlation between our quest for youth and our desire to see hairless vagina. Hey, I'm just trying to give you something to chew on.

PS. I've never had to make vagina plural before. Is "vaginas" accurate? Whatever. I'm going to wake Bekki up.

Hooray for Snow!

It snowed! And the real estate agent said it hardly ever snowed in this town. This makes it a little harder to buy into that global warming hype you always hear about. Oh, sorry for looking horrible. I just woke up.