Sometimes when I’m travelling, someone will ask where I’m from. I’ll say Austin, because I don’t want to list all the crappy little towns I’m really from. They’ll mistakenly ask, Boston? And I want to sarcastically say, “Yes. This is how people talk in Boston”, with my southern accent.
Monthly Archives: January 2017
Multitasking Q-Tip
I once impaled my own eardrum with a Q-tip. I was multitasking by letting the cotton swab soak up the excess moisture in my ear after a refreshing shower and brushing my hair simultaneously. My arm raised up and my bicep jammed the resting implement right through my ear canal. It was very loud and jolting due to the incredibly close proximity. Then it continuously made the disturbing sound of a ripping plastic swimming pool inside my cranium. Luckily, it was during the late afternoon and I could get to a doctors office instead of an emergency room. Unluckily, my only mode of transportation was a motorcycle. I learned that day how much physical balance is reliant on the equilibrium created by the complex workings of the inner human ear. Physical balance is also a key component in the operation of a motorcycle. I very unsafely rode twenty-five miles to see the doctor. There was much weaving and wobbling on my journey. The treatment for a broken eardrum is to break it even more. It’s called scarification and it’s just as sadistic as the name implies. It’s not incredibly painful, but it leaves the subject in a state of dismal confusion. Even better for a challenging after dusk motorcycle ride back home. At one point, I had both feet skiing on the pavement for balance at fifty-five miles per hour. Sadly, that was not the only time I had done that, but that’s another story involving a facial chemical burn, a heat enhancing safety helmet facing the sun, and a much higher speed of travel.
The moral of this tale is that there is a legitimate reason the Q-Tip people tell us NOT to use their product in the only way we can conceive of how to use it.
A Matter of Size
Once, a long time ago, in 1985, A friend exuberantly pointed and laughed rambunctiously at my wiener as my friends and I all were peeing on the side of the road in the freezing cold. I have a completely average, normal, functional manhood, a grower, not a show-er, but it was about twelve degrees, so physically, there was some extra shrinkage. Before that day, it honestly had never occurred to me that my wiener could be so absolutely hilarious to a grown man who was looking at my wiener. It bothers me to this day for so many reasons. One, why was he looking at my wiener? Two, it was freezing cold, what did he expect? Three, from that day, I have been overly self conscious about my wiener. Before the internet, it was much more difficult to get information about weiners. It was more spread by hearsay. Four, it was widely known that he was endowed like a wilder-beast, therefore he had no need to be interested in any other wiener. If you’re hung like a mule, you should be happy and not ever bother anyone about anything ever. And five, what a dick! Pun intended. Have some self control. He could’ve just snickered a little and pretended he had a snot drip or something.
And six, now everyone knows the story of my frozen wiener.
Move Like a Cat
Once, a coworker told me I move like a cat. He then asked if I had seen the movie, Where the Buffalo Roam. I said I had not and he said, that’s from that movie. I didn’t care. Until years later, when I finally saw the movie and realized how blatantly insulting that was to me. Now I’m upset because I never got to tell that guy, Hey! Screw you, pal! I don’t even remember his name. It was a temporary Christmas job at a packaging outlet in 1994. If I had a time machine, I would go back and watch the Bill Murray movie about Hunter S. Thompson a week before I took that job so I could say, Yeah, I’ve seen that movie, you asshole. And then I would immediately go see a dinosaur.