Archive for December, 2008
There are times when kids draw something and you just have to say, “Wow, tell me about your picture,” because you have no clue what it is. This one you know right away. Or think you do. Enjoy!
Quote from the mom:
This is my kindergartner’s artistic rendering of a pair of scissors. I wonder what his teacher thought. I allowed myself a small smirk when I saw it and waited until he was out of the room before I started laughing so hard I was crying. Well, of course they are scissors!!
I will display this on my fridge proudly for a long long time!
The year is almost over and, before 2009 starts, I want to make sure that when you look down at the bottom of your monitor you know what the date is. See, long ago I worked for a place that gave out calendars to customers. They stuck on the bottom of the monitor and they were really handy.
But I don’t work there anymore, so I had to make my own. It’s not the same and you need to cut it out yourself and, since it doesn’t stick by itself, you need to tape it. But other than that, it is exactly the same. Oh, except that it is taller. I wanted it to only be two rows across but I am not a fucking wizard. Screw you.
Download the Free Gallery Monitor Strip Calendar!
Always check your child’s homework. Mommy works at Home Depot and she was selling a shovel. However, now the school thinks Mommy’s a pole dancer.
Acadia is one guilt trippin’ motherfucker who is all “write something, we need content, jerk.” And when he says jerk, it really gets you.
So, I set out to not be a jerk. Which led to, hey, Plaxico Burress shot himself, it was kind of a big deal and he hasn’t been talking much in the media since then, you know? We figured, hey, we scoop that action, get the interview and at least five people will stop reading espn.com and get in on this interview.
It was set and I headed to New Jersey to sit down at a table with Plaxico, listen to him with a tape recorder and a writing pad. I was prepared for him to be a great guy painted wrongly by the media. Prepared for me to not give a damn about this and completely distort his words for the sake of penning this article.
He met me at the door to his home. It goes without saying that the place was large. It looked like the house that Tony Soprano lived in. Plax filled me in on that, “Yeah, you recognize this joint? Straight up, bought this plot of land, told a cat, ‘fill it out like that Tony Soprano number’ and he so did.”
He was, thankfully, wearing sweatpants when I arrived. I chuckled knowing that Plax was wearing sweats to the club that fateful evening of misfire. He spread his arms and let me pat him down. Since I have a law degree, I started referring to it as a Terry Stop and he started referring to it as “a white man who would get choked if he tried any funny stuff.”
