I have to admit IÂ’m not big on answering the phone. In our house, 95% of all phone calls are for my wife. SheÂ’s on the phone so much the fucking thing gets hot.

Anyway, last night we had an aunt and uncle from out of town come over for dinner. Very conservative and a lot older than us. So weÂ’re sitting there dipping bread into the artichoke pesto when the phone rings. I looked over at my wife and told her to let it ring.

“You know it’s not important,” I said, “You can call them back later.”

She nods in agreement and we go back to chatting in a reserved manner. Just then the answering machine clicks on and a loud voice booms through the kitchen. And at that moment I realized my error.

“Hey asshole!”

It was an old friend of mine. He was hammered. I instantly knew that this would end badly.

“Dude, get your hand off your cock and answer the fucking phone!”

I looked at our guests. They were stunned. Ashen.

“C’mon fuckface, I know you’re there!”

At that point I didnÂ’t know what to do. I realized I was holding my breath. My old lady was looking at me, her eyes pleading. But there was no solution. We were already mortified.

I didnÂ’t know if I should run over and pick up the phone or what. I was about to declare it a wrong number when he addressed me by name, cementing forever the already tarnished reputation I hold in the family.

“That’s Paul’s old college roommate,” my wife offered, “You know how it is…”

But they didnÂ’t know how it is. Or how it was. And we went back to the pesto and I poured more wine and thought about my buddy. And how heÂ’d screwed me royally, and the joy it would bring him when I eventually called back. Somehow, it made me feel better.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:09 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 330 words, total size 2 kb.

Phone numbers always used to have the area code in parentheses, like this:

(555) 123-1234

Now, however, I have noticed a trend where all the numbers are separated by the dash and the parentheses have gone the way of the dodo, i.e.:

555-123-1234

There you have it. I am so worth the click.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 03:09 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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The bachelor party was a full-on riot. Thursday, I ran out of work early, drove to Raleigh and hung out with one of my old college pals there. We basically had lunch, and then he dropped me off at the airport. Where I commenced to prime myself for the flight by drinking those damn expensive airport beers. I don't really like flying (which is another poast altogether), so tieing on a decent buzz ensures that the time is spend in the air either seems shorter, or is spent sleeping.

more...

Posted by: shank at 01:41 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Out of three authors on this blog, nobodyÂ’s had the decency to post anything in a week or so. I was on vacation so IÂ’m exempt from criticism. Is this any way to run a railroad?

Meanwhile, IÂ’ve got nothing of substance. Again.

I am completely barren of ideas, thoughts or observation of any kind.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 12:01 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 59 words, total size 1 kb.

Dude, we got our first actual wedding present today. And as I've said before, I'm a big present-opening kind of guy. So I come home and there's this fucking big ol' box from Bed Bath & Beyond. Mind you, I'm not big on towels and sheets and shit, but I love cooking, and I can tell by the size and weight of the box that this is some cooking-ass shit yo.

Of course, the wife understands that I am a present-o-phile a little better now (since I complain about not being able to open them), and says it's okay with her if I open it. So there I am, super-stoked that I get to open this bad boy. I nicely slice the packing tape, flip the lid open gently, take note of the inspection slip, read it, nod like I know something about it (I'm really into presents), thumb through the accompanying paperwork (packing slip, etc), nod like I know something about that too. Then I pull out what must've been a two and a half foot by twenty foot sheet of paper. I guess they just used it to pack the box tight, but it's just so amazingly huge, I've never seen a peice of paper this big. I pull it all the way out of the box, untwist it, stretch it out to full length across the living room floor and entry way. I marvel at it's dimensions. Where did they get this? Can you imagine how fun it must be to work with sheets of paper this big all day long? Good Lord, imagine the pranks you could get away with if you had access to a single ream of paper from which this peice came! I decide to wear it.

Hey, shove off, I said I like presents!

So there I am, swaddled in the packing material that my new shit came in. My shiny, new, perfectly perfect thing. If it has buttons, dials, selectors, or settings, they probably all click, spin, switch, or turn with that smooth but precise action that only new buttons, dials, selectors, or settings click, spin, switch, or turn. The interior box is probably filled with all that senseless packing that conforms to the shape of my new item - carboard that's cut to size, bubble wrap, directions and warranties folded neatly and laying on top. If it has electrical cords they are, no doubt, tied just so, with the perfectly-sized twistie tie. I mean, how do they do that? When you go to store the damn thing, or have to pack it up to move, it never goes back in the box like that. Never.

Mumified in my new paper duds, I begin gently rifling through the outer packaging. It's got a slip saying who it's from, conveniently, with their address so we can send 'em a thank you note. Nice touch. I pull back a sheet of that foamy papery stuff they usually slip on top of the item and behold...the fucking thing is wrapped. Wrapped in wrapping paper with a card and everything. The blood rushes from my face. I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. No, stabbed. Stabbed in the back, betrayed, made a fool of.

Oh, she knew. She had to've known! She wouldn't let me open the present knowing I would actually get to see it. She knew I'd open it with all the giddiness of a schoolboy, and then be crushed to see it was wrapped. She knew! more...

Posted by: shank at 06:24 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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So, I used the new Fusion razor tonight by Gillette. I actually didn't cut myself, which is pretty amazing considering the Fusion feels like a weedwacker in my hands compared to teh razors I usually shave with. But it's a nice shave. Don't waste your money on the electric one though. Unless you like being shocked.

I'm working on my thesis this week, going to Vegas this weekend, more thesis work next week, marriage the week after that, then more thesis work. I'll let you know when I get my life back.

Which, given the whole marriage thing, may be never.

Posted by: shank at 06:02 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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Well, after having the new motor in the car for a few weeks now, I figure it's time to put 'er on the dyno and see what kind of power the setup is putting down on the pavement. Have an appointment today at noon with a local shop. I'm hoping to get 170 or so. I'm planning to tune the entire setup in a few weeks or so, but I just don't have the time right now to go spend a couple hundred bucks and half a day. We've got too much other crap to take care of pre-wedding. After tuning though, I'd be interested to see if we can hit 190 or somewhere in that area.

Also, today's a big day for many ACC fans like myself. Duke and Carolina play tonight...at coach K's house. Now, I understand that Duke is a top ranked team this year. However, the Heels came on this season with a bunch of damn 18 year old's and they've mopped the floor with the veteran competition on many occasions. Granted, they're highly inconsistent, but right now they're looking strong. I'm not going to sit here and say Carolina's gonna beat the crap out of Duke - I'd be (happily) lucky to get a win tonight. But if the game is even close, I'd still be proud of the team. They've surprised a lot of people this year, but I don't know if they have what it takes to surprise the Dukie's at home.

Also, Thursday I leave for Vegas. I'll be there that night on my own, as the folks I'm meeting won't arrive until the next afternoon. I'll be staying on the strip, but I've only ever been there once, and I've never been there alone. What should I check out Thursay night and Friday? Are there any cool little dives I should check out on the strip? I won't have a car, but I'm not opposed to walking, especially if the drink specials are good. Any tips are appreciated!

Posted by: shank at 09:34 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I set aside some time today to post something of substance; unfortunately, IÂ’ve got nothing and it canÂ’t be forced. So in lieu of that, hereÂ’s whatÂ’s going through my head today.

Mark Twain was an overrated, mean-spirited shitbag. He was a newspaper hack who never really understood the novel, though he talked like he invented the damned thing. Yes, they say he had charisma, but so do many arsonists, motivational speakers and con men, all of which I hold in the same regard.

I never forgave Twain for his idiotic and exaggerated criticism of JF Cooper. He came off looking like the nasty bastard he probably was. Aside from my unexplainable contempt for Twain today, my thoughts have been relatively shallow.

I donÂ’t like Poptarts; they just donÂ’t appeal to me.

I never had a proper lunch today and now IÂ’ve got the urge to stuff big fistfuls of dry cornflakes into my mouth. I do that sometimes, late at night, when IÂ’m lying on the couch alone. I lie there like a bum with the TV volume low, so as not to wake anyone, and stuff big fistfuls of cornflakes into my mouth. IÂ’m careful not let the crumbs get on the couch or fall in between the cushions, because thatÂ’s tantamount to killing kittens in my wifeÂ’s view. That and IÂ’m not a pig. I donÂ’t wish to wallow in filth myself.

And I lie there in my underwear and a wife-beater, flipping through the channels, looking for salvation.

Some days you have it, some days not so much.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 03:02 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 270 words, total size 2 kb.

I donÂ’t know what to say.

I was standing at the counter with bottle of Coke. I reached into my pocket and out came some crumbled up bills and a handful of coins. I look down at the coins and IÂ’ve never fucking seen them before. I thought they were Canadian or some other worthless currency and then realized they were nickels. All different kinds.

I had a regular nickel, a new version of a buffalo nickel and yet another one with half of JeffersonÂ’s head on it. I was dumbfounded.

WhatÂ’s up with all the new nickels? ItÂ’s bad enough theyÂ’re minting new quarters with Newark and Detroit on them once a month, now the US mint is changing the nickels every week. I just donÂ’t get it. I donÂ’t know what the national debt is, but how the hell can we be spending our resources changing the goddamed coins every week? ItÂ’s got to cost money drawing the designs, stamping the plates and all of that crap. Does this make sense? We should be getting rid of the fucking dead wood in these agencies and theyÂ’re hiring by the busload down at the nickel division.

How many nickels do we need? Are they even worth five cents anymore? Are we going to have nickels from every state? WhatÂ’s next, fifty new dimes? This is fucking criminal! I havenÂ’t been this enraged since they canceled The Rockford Files.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 01:03 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 245 words, total size 1 kb.

IÂ’m inventing a meme. I donÂ’t know why I havenÂ’t thought of this sooner. Why follow when I can lead. And IÂ’ve got nothing anyway.

Here goes:

1. YouÂ’re fucking with your iPod and slam your car into some other poor bastardÂ’s in the parking lot of the liquor store. No one sees you and the owner of the other car is nowhere in sight. What do you do?

a. Leave a note with your contact info
b. Leave a note with your bosses contact info
c. Fucking flee

2. YouÂ’re a guest in someoneÂ’s home for a dinner party. You excuse yourself to the restroom during dinner and have an episode of explosive diarrhea. Before you leave the bathroom you:

a. Spray that can of flowery stuff that doesnÂ’t fool anyone
b. Just leave the room smelling like a chemical fire

3. YouÂ’re sitting at a traffic light thinking about your sad, mundane life. You witness a minor traffic accident where no one is injured but plenty of damage is sustained to both vehicles. You clearly saw who was at fault. When the light turns green, you:

a. Pull over to give a statement when the cops come
b. Report the accident on your cell phone
c. Just drive the fuck away

4. You and several friends stop to pick up another friend on the way to a party. Your friend comes out wearing something that makes them look ridiculous, like a transvestite or you can clearly see a naughty bit sticking out somewhere. Do you:

a. Tell them right away, even though they may be embarrassed
b. Wait to see if someone else says something
c. Point it out to everyone at the party

5. YouÂ’re sitting in the conference room awaiting the start of a meeting. Six people are in attendance. Just as the handouts are coming around you hear audible flatulence, loud enough to be heard by everyone and certainly unmistakable. Do you:

a. Lower your eyes and say nothing
b. Laugh or make a joke
c. Say, “Who the fuck was that?”

6. You are on your way to the store. Your wife/husband/other asks you to get them something. Due to your own inability to either listen or think about anyone but yourself, you forget. When you come home, you:

a. Tell them you forgot
b. Lie and tell them you couldnÂ’t find it/any

6.5 When they ask you, “Did you ask someone who works there?” You:

a. Say, “No, I never thought of that.”
b. Lie and say, “Yeah, they said they were all out.”

IÂ’m not tagging anyone with this, but it would make my day to see it on someone elseÂ’s blog. That and five points to anyone that has the balls.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:23 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 472 words, total size 3 kb.

1 1. Depending on the damage, I could do any of the above. Serious damage and I'd probably sit there and wait for the person to come out. A scratch or ding and they wouldn't even know I existed. 2. At a big party, I'd try to escape leaving the caustic fumes ungarnished by air-fresheners. If it was an intimate gathering, I'd be screwed anyways because they would have heard my screams of agony. So I guess either way I'd just let it ride. 3. a - Give a statement. In most instances, when given the chance to not give a fuck about others, I'll gladly take that opportunity. But auto-wrecks can be such an unbelievable pain in the ass, that I don't think I could live with myself knowing that I could have helped out a bit by acting as a witness. 4. I would laugh, but tell them "Hey, it's just me. What the hell do I know about fashion?" Since that's the truth, they'd probably not change their outfit. I would laugh about it at the party, but if they don't think they look stupid, I guess that's all that matters. 5. If it's my meeting, or a meeting where I'm not low-man, I'd call the person out. If I was the low-man in the meeting, I'd just stare everyone down until I was sure I knew who it was. Then I'd tell all that person's employees that they're a disgusting sonofabitch. 6. a - tell them I forgot. They won't be surprised. I do the same thing to myself all the time. 6.5 b. Lie and say, “Yeah, they said they were all out.” If I had lied in the first place, I would most likely continue to lie. I'm not a big liar, because I'm too lazy to give a shit most of the time about pleasing other people, but when I do lie, it should be important enough to maintain the lie for the rest of my life. In that case, I'd probably come up with much more elaborate, fool proof, well thought out excuses. If you're going to lie in any situation, it should become an airtight strategy. Which is precisely why I try not to lie too often. It can be fucking dispicable.

Posted by: shank at March 01, 2006 10:19 AM (+H1yK)

2 Those are trick questions. The correct answer to all of them is "D: Do what Brian Boitano'd do". Or maybe "E: Continue on your merry way".

Posted by: Jim at March 01, 2006 10:59 AM (oqu5j)

3 I don't have a blog so I'm posting here. 1. C - Flee flee flee...Pay backs are a bitch. Do you know how many effin times people have done that to my car? Why would I be nice and leave a note? So my insurance can go up? 2. A - Use the spray man! (I keep getting the visual from dumb and dumber.) Flower poop smell is way better than just plain ol' raunch. 3. C - Drive the fuck away they'll sort it out. No use sticking your nose in other peoples bidness. (true -story...a year ago I witnessed a minor accident. I saw who was at fault. But I kept going because I didn't want to be late for work) What? I'm a dedicated employee. 4. A - This is clearly an unspoken truce when it comes to girls. I would have to say I'd let them know that their nipple is peakin out and waving hi. 5. C- Even if I knew what the fuck that was. I'd still say "what the fuck was that"? I mean come on.... if the person was brazen enough to fart "loudly" in front of his collegues than there needs to be attention drawn to the tool box who has no regard for the poor sap sitting next to him. 6. B- Lie. 1st lesson...never send Me to do YOUR errands you lazy bastard. 2nd lesson...you want something done right do it yourself. Enough said. 6.5 B - Lie..see above. Never admit a thang

Posted by: Tiffani at March 01, 2006 11:28 AM (KE4Gu)

4 Tracky Backy Delayed: Here ya go.

Posted by: phin at March 01, 2006 11:57 AM (Xvpen)

5 Your blog will have to serve as my blog, will I still get five points? 1. I'm with shank here. Minor dings or less, I'm gone. More serious noticable damage I'd do the honest thing, I hate to be a dickhead like too many people who wouldn't hesitate to run after totally smashing my car. 2. a - If available, I'd spray. I would probably still blame the stench on the next poor sap that decided to go in there and come out gagging (OhmiGOD!! you stunk up the place so bad you made YOURSELF sick? EGADS!). 3. If I wasn't in a rush, I'd pull over and give a statement. Otherwise, I'd just report it on the phone. 4. a - I couldn't wait, the humiliation would start immediately after they got into my car. 5. b - Probably say something semi-smartassed like "Okay, no more Taco Bell for you." 6. a - Tell her I forgot. It wouldn't matter, I'd get blasted no matter what the excuse. 6.5. See above answer.

Posted by: diamond dave at March 01, 2006 05:13 PM (OPflN)

6 Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Used to be, when you had nothing, you'd post about that and the bitching would be pure genius. Now you're reduced to inventing fucking memes. God help us all.

Posted by: Ted at March 02, 2006 07:35 AM (blNMI)

7 this was the funniest shit i have seen in days... i found myself torn on several of them... but damn it was hilarious - thank you again for being so incredibly hilarious!

Posted by: Moodie at March 02, 2006 10:57 AM (8RKIo)

8 It apparently doesn't like my ping, so here's my entry:

Posted by: Oorgo at March 02, 2006 07:24 PM (lM0qs)

9 Okay, I had to update because a "situation" happened in my classroom (I teach 7th grade) and now when I read question #5, I can't help but laugh... In class, last week, a student farted - now they do this all the time so normally it's no big deal - but I reacted... looking up (not knowing who did it) I said, "Who was that?" (not thinking) thereby sending the entire class into a laughing fit. Somehow this escalated into a full-blown discussion about farting (I teach Health, btw) and other sex-related questions. How this happens is beyond me, but... I now know the answer to #5!

Posted by: Moodie at March 06, 2006 10:39 AM (8RKIo)

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Test answers are “2” and “True” for all others.

Posted by: Jim at 09:03 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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