Showing posts from February, 2017
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True Story© We Miss The Old Man, Happy Birthday!

Warning : you will not receive a humorous story this week.  This day means something bigger to me than the previous 25 Thursdays (and one bonus Tuesday) have.  I'll be back next week. (This had to have been taken about 1980-1981ish.  If you don't know which one I am, tough) Starting in 2006, every year on or around February 23 rd  I do my best to visit the cemetery. I clear the grass and dust off his headstone (he would put a foot in my ass for buying flowers just to leave them), I sit down Indian-style next to it and I talk.  I don’t expect a response, but I talk.  I talk about life, about how things are going and what irons I might happen to have in whatever fire at a given time.  And I cry...  It seems that in the time between my visits, something more of the lessons he idly told us coming up has revealed itself as truth.  So I thank him.                 We lost my granddad on July 9 th , 2004…  It was a Friday, which is a WILDLY horrible time to ha
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True Story© Disciplining OTHER People's Kids

[ Phlip note: I know I hit y’all off Tuesday already, but that was special coverage for the pagan holiday] True Story©   Disciplining strangers’ kids without touching them.                 One of the problems I hardly EVER have at home or in public is my child doing anything that requires any real discipline further than “Ava, knock it off.” Other people, though?  Y’all have some fucking DEMONS and seem to want to spend time with them in public instead of your own homes.  Bad behavior should not be rewarded with the kind of excursions and adventures that people tend to grant their children.  Hell, one time when I was like 8 or 9, my brother and I were not allowed to go to the damned grocery store with my mom because I knocked like 4 jars of mayonnaise (this was when the jars were still made of glass) on the floor in Winn Dixie and a man slipped on it and almost fell. But I digress… Some of the insolent little shits that you people tend to turn loose on stores and public
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True Story© Special Coverage... A Valentime's Day Massacre

The year was 1994, you were in high school... Your HS crush was someone you saw every day, spoke to every time you saw her, held doors and did cutesy little things for.  You thought nothing of it, but you did it.  When you secured transportation arrangements, she hit you with the “I’ll think about it,” or the “I don’t know, I be busy” or worst yet, the “well I have a boyfriend that goes to [another school]” fib… That’s right, she curved you. It is now February of 2017… She had a baby by that ‘boyfriend that goes to [another school]’ soon after high school and life has been WILD difficult, like so difficult that she gave that loser and two more after him a chance.  Now Valentime’s is approaching and she is single.  Attractive, but single and miserable for it.  By some stroke of luck, you happen to be between relationships at the moment as well and had no real plans for the 14 th and take up the task of responding to her lamentations on social media.  For the balance
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True Story© A Huge Little Ordeal

                For the first couple of weeks after I got home from Guantanamo , I was kinda messed up.  Basically just didn’t know how to approach the world and always on edge.  They say that one experiences things similar to PTSD when they have been subjected to torture conditions and yes waterboarding IS torture. With these things front of mind, it was understood that I was often angry about my situation or moreso just that I HAD to be placed into that one.  With no real outlet but luckily still gainfully employed, I took on the task of messing with other people’s lives for my own entertainment.                 I’d read lurid stories about how, during the taping of The Wizard of Oz in 1939, the people who played the munchkins were basically a weird drunken mob of 120+ little people during their off-camera time.  The reason for this is that this was the first time that many – well, most – of them had ever been around OTHER little people.  Some were foreign and many already in
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True Story©... Advice Corner - Take a Working Girl to Prom!

True Story©…                 This is a revisiting of advice I gave at least 10 years ago… With that in mind, I cannot find what I wrote exactly, so I am paraphrasing/repackaging.                 Those of you who are school age, or who have sons who are of school age, should consider the nuanced advantages of bringing a stripper/escort/prostitute/ to their senior prom. No, stick with me here…                 Not to let you in on anything more than you need to know, but High School is an awkward time wherein the acquisition of the services of the opposite sex can be a difficult draw.  Sometimes the act of procuring a date to prom can be a bit of a burden.  Between a couple of weird situations with girls I knew and had dated in school and one I had not, I’d reserved to just not going before this girl who worked with me at the time asked me to take her.  I don’t think I have spoken to the girl more than once or twice in the almost 20 years since and assuredly not since 199
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