Category Archives: Awesome

Stuff that is awesome.

Delivery Tales: The Good

It’s not all bad. On the contrary, most of it is good most of the time. We’re giving away 5000 large pizzas this week. In addition to that, my boss decided to hand out some free pizzas to unsuspecting customers, specifically to those who work the late shift at local hotels and gas stations. We have a bunch of hotels who send a lot of business to us, so we returned the favor, in a way. If a driver had a delivery to a certain area where hotels or gas stations might be that were open, we’d get a few extra pizzas to take with us and we’d just give them to the employees, or whoever we saw hanging out, including customers of their businesses. Naturally menus went with the pizzas, because it’s ALL advertising.

Tonight I was having fun running those free pizzas to people and seeing their reactions, and I’m going to save the best for last. But first…

I had a delivery to a hotel we get a ton of business from, so my boss made me up four pizzas to take with me and hand out. On my way to that hotel I thought hard about what other places I could go to and realized everything around that hotel, sans that hotel, closes at like 9 PM, even on a Saturday. There’s literally nothing open. All the way to that hotel I racked my brain trying to think of where I could take those free pizzas.

I got to the hotel and as soon as I walked in I saw a huge group of people partying in the lobby, and most were very well dressed. It was quite obviously a wedding after-party. I delivered my order on the second floor and when I got back on the elevator to leave there was a younger couple already on it. The guy saw my garb and mentioned how much he loved our pizza. So I asked if he wanted one. He said he was hungry and the girl with him said she would kill for a pizza. So I said I’d give them one. He asked her how much money she had and I said the pizza was completely free. She asked me several times if it was some sort of joke and I insured her it was not. I explained what was going on and how it was a customer appreciation kind of thing and how I had four pizzas and had no idea what to do with them since everything was closed. She said they were part of the wedding party…

I went outside, got the pizzas and took them back in. Everyone rejoiced. When I pulled out four large pizzas and said they were all free, they rejoiced. Then a woman handed me $20. I told her I couldn’t accept that, until the chick from the elevator yelled at me to take it, so I did. Before I left I made sure to leave a stack of menus there.

Two deliveries later I was back at the hotel with an order for another lady in the party who was hungry watching everyone else eat pizza. When I walked in I saw everyone drinking wine and stuffing their faces with the pizza I had originally left there. That was cool. I then told the front desk folks who are always nice to me that I’d bring them a pizza later. Later when I showed up with one for them, they gave me $5. There was also two guys left over from the party holding beers and about to head up to their rooms. I gave them a pizza too. They were stoked.

I had given pizzas to gas station folks and their customers and everyone was happy. Most questioned me several times, some even asking if there was some sort of catch. But the best incident happened at my first stop with free pizzas tonight.

I pulled up to a Shell gas station where I stop every now and then for gas late night. At night they lock their doors and you have to use a little window to make transactions with. There’s this older man who works the late shift and he always looks tired. When I pulled up I noticed two guys standing inside, so I knew I had made it just before the doors were locked. Passing a large pizza through the little slot in the wall would have been hard.

I walked in and saw the two guys were buying beer and dressed as if they were about to go to a party of some kind. They were also much bigger than me and clearly country boys. They were standing at the counter talking to the man I was there to see when a woman came in and began yelling at the guy behind the counter. I wasn’t quite sure what it was she said, but she was pissed about the pump she was at not working, or something. The man behind the counter told her something and she huffed out of the store. The attendant then said to the two big country boys how that was the third time she had been in the store yelling at him and how he’s explained to her each time how to do what it is she wanted to do.

During a break in the conversation I asked the two country boys if they wanted a free pizza and they said they did, so I hooked them up. The one started to hand me $5 and I said I didn’t want it and he told me, very seriously, to take it. Since I didn’t want them to stomp me, I took it. They left the store happy with beer and a free pizza. Hopefully they went to their party and told everybody about what happened.

I then turned to the attendant. He looked older than he probably is, wore out and worked hard for what is probably very little at a gas station. He shook his head and looked flustered. He was still upset about that woman. I asked him if he was hungry and gave him a pizza for free. At first he looked amazed, then he said to me, “It goes to show on those days that are just terrible, that something can happen like this to turn it completely around. Thank you.” And he was genuine about it, and it made my night complete. Even now as I’m typing this I’m tearing up. Seriously. With the night I had last night and the overall week I’ve had, to be able to make someones night like that really made mine. I know how he was feeling, I’ve been feeling it a lot lately. While someone didn’t give me a free pizza to make my week better, it turned out that giving someone else a free pizza and making their night better is what I needed to make mine better.

Typically, I deal with a lot of great people, every night of the week. For some reason this week was just bad for me. It happens, but that doesn’t mean I like it or accept it. I’m glad I had the night I had tonight, because I needed it as much as that gas station guy did.

Delivery Tales: Miraculous Man

Nothing interesting has been happening lately on deliveries, other than people being complete idiots. We often get calls like this:

US: Would you like a pick-up order, or delivery?
THEM: Delivery.
US: Ok, what is your phone number?
THEM: I live in Mason.
US: Ok, what is your phone number?
THEM: It’s back in the Deer Hills subdivision off of Tylersville Road.
US: Ok, what is your phone number?
THEM: The address is…

Sadly, that happens a lot. What doesn’t happen nearly enough is Miraculous Man coming to take care of the jackasses we deal with on a daily basis. Fortunately for you, you don’t have to wait for Miraculous Man. You can head over to the Stuph Blog and check out his many zany adventures where he stands up for his customer service brethren by dealing with the asshole customers in a way all customer service reps wish they could.

I’ve been a fan of Miraculous Man since his inception, and recently Twindaddy was inspired by one of my Delivery Tales, the one about the farm fresh eggs, and decided it was time for Miraculous Man to make an appearance for the first time in over a year! I’m glad I inspired something awesome, but I’m actually more excited that there’s another Miraculous Man story!

Without further ado, head over to the Stuph Blog now to check out the newest edition of Miraculous Man, where he deals with the Drunken Farm Boys!


Have You Given A Fuck Lately?


TV Show Themes

The mark of a good TV show isn’t just about good writing and good acting (good directing also comes into play somewhere), but having a good theme is just as important. When was the last time there was a popular TV show on with a horrible opening song? Of course opinions can declare anything bad, but those hit shows, no matter when they aired on TV, have or had theme songs that people still recognize today, even if they had never seen the show.

I grew up with shows like Night Court, Sanford & Son, Married… With Children and Roseanne, to name a few. Of course Sanford & Son was just before my time, but to this day I can hum the theme song as if I had just watched an episode.

Roseanne had many versions of their theme song, which all rocked, in my opinion. A groovy blues jam that was never long enough and always finished up with Roseanne laughing her fat mouth off. This all culminated in Blues Traveler recording a version with lyrics for the final season.

Married… With Children had a long opening with an extra verse (Try, try, try to separate them, it’s an illusion…). It was shortened to what just about everyone remembers, and then for the DVD releases they lost the license and couldn’t even use that, so now they have some horrible shitty generic opening that totally kills the show. That’s how much a theme song matters. Of course the song was based off of a real song, so they just used an extra verse for the long version.

Hey, do you know the theme song to Bonanza? I’m sure you do. Would it surprise you to know that it actually had lyrics? Just like Hawaii Five-0 and MASH, they had lyrics to their theme songs too. Seriously, click those links and try not to kill yourself after listening to the MASH tune. No wonder they went with the instrumental version for the show.

The thing about TV show theme songs is, most of them are typically songs that are exactly as long as they are during the shows opening. What you hear is all you get. They’re also made by some theme show making band with no name, in house, specifically for that show. However, other times, they’re full length songs by real bands that just so happen to get picked up for a show, and then they’re cut down to fit the opening of the show and recorded specifically for the opening, so that when you actually hear the full version of the song you’re like, “That just barely sounds like the opening to the show…” and then you’re pissed off because the song doesn’t live up to the TV shows opening version. The thing is, sometimes the real bands or artists recording those songs can be big name acts, such as Blues Traveler, Sammy Davis Jr. (Hawaii Five-0), Frank Sinatra (Married… With Children) and Quincy Jones (Sanford & Son). But other times they’re done by bands who are one hit wonders, those one hits are the theme songs, and the full version of those songs are terrible, making one wonder just what in the hell did some TV exec see in the song to begin with to make them consider it for their show.

Since I’m a fan of TV, there are a ton of TV show theme songs that I love, but there are just a couple I want to touch base on. Otherwise this piece would be novel length and you’d quit reading somewhere after this sentence. You probably will anyway. I did.

Love or hate it, the show Friends was on for a long time, had many fans and was a huge success, despite the fact that they lived in a New York City where only white people lived. Personally, I was a fan of the show only because it made me laugh. I wasn’t a huge fan, or even a follower of the show. I watched it in syndication and can only recall actually watching brand new episodes as they first aired maybe three or four times. I only seemed to catch it by accident, but I never turned it off. There are worse things to watch, after all.

The band who did their opening, The Rembrandts, had a hit with the song. Unfortunately for them it was their only hit (The Rembrandts six fans will argue this). The reason for this is, they weren’t really a good band. I saw them on Leno one night performing the song and it was terrible. Seriously, it sounded very monotone, and as if they were performing it for the first time ever without having rehearsed it first. Way to break free from those TV theme shackles guys.

Another show I really like is the USA Network hit, Psych, and naturally I really like the opening. As it turns out it is done by The Friendly Indians, the band show creator Steve Franks belongs to. Way to promote your shit, you’re doing it right.

The fun thing about this band is, this is their only hit and I doubt it’s getting radio play. While looking for a performance video for this song I found a live acoustic version where the guys fuck up the lyrics to the song, immediately. Amazing, the only hit they have and they can’t even remember the fucking lyrics.

I’m probably the biggest fan of That 70s Show alive, and it’s almost impossible to hate their opening song. Both versions. Well, I’ll just say I love the show theme, but the full song can suck one.

Cheap Trick redid the song made famous by Big Star, and there were name changes and key changes and lyric changes, but overall, I can’t stand the song, no matter what version it is. The theme version is the only one I can get behind. Possibly the worst video for it that I found is the one where Cheap Trick is in the Formans living room playing it with the cast of the show hanging out behind them. Not that I’m a hater of Cheap Trick, there’s just some creepy vibe they’re throwing off in the video. Maybe it’s just the drummer with his pedophile smile.

Lastly, there’s the show Rules Of Engagement, that for the record I’d like to say is one of my favorite shows of all time. I was depressed to learn it was canceled finally after seven seasons and 100 episodes.

Oh, and I’d like to point out that Will Harris for the AV Club said of it:

“Seven seasons is a damned fine run, no matter how you look at it, but it’s a particularly remarkable achievement for Rules Of Engagement, a series about which no one has ever exclaimed, ‘Oh, my God, that is my absolute favorite!’” Apparently he knows what he’s talking about. Idiot.

Their theme song is catchy and I typically sing along to it when I don’t plan to, just because it’s catchy. It’s not a favorite song of mine, it’s not something I would jam out to in my car, but it’s catchy enough. One day I decided to see if there was a full length song and sure enough, there is. And it’s not just bad, but horribly performed in the video.

Senor Happy really looks out of place performing, and by “Senor Happy” I mean “the singer.” He has this look on his face the entire time like he’s afraid to show any form of emotion past “I just had a stroke, my mouth can’t do anything.” He looks as if he realizes his band is only good for the opening 30 seconds to a TV show and that they’ll never be more than that. And then he gets to jumping around and overplaying the song to make up for that shitty look on his face and he oversells it. It would be like having a mosh pit to Barney’s “I Love You.” His presence in this video is a clusterfuck of emotion and none of it makes sense with the song.

The good news is, we’ll probably never see Senor Happy, The Rembrandts or The Friendly Indians on any tour with any real acts, unless they get together with each other and play to sold out bars and restaurants all over the state of Kansas. Despite that, they made some really cool TV theme songs, so I guess they can be proud of that. They better be, they have nothing else going for them.

Delivery Tales: The Stunner

Exactly one week after I was given farm fresh eggs as a tip for delivering pizza, I was given a delivery back to Loveland, once again at 3:30 in the morning. Only this time I was going the farthest away from the store I have gone yet. The egg story delivery was only about ten minutes away from the store on regular roads. This particular delivery was twenty minutes away on the highway, yet once again I was traveling in an area I was unfamiliar with. And once again it was very dark and very rural.

Once I got to the street I needed, I discovered it was just barely paved and just barely wider than one lane. The houses were few and far between and once again this was farming country. My GPS told me I was at my location and I turned to see a very large house off in the distance, illuminated by several lights in the yard, pointing up at the house. It was so far away from the road that it was just barely lit and looked ghostly. To help the image, there was a large lake in front of the house, reflecting the lit up house in a wavy fashion. The driveway, which I could just barely see next to the house, went from the left side of the house, around the lake and up to where I was stopped in the road. Just before it met the road there was a huge metal gate standing wide open. Since I couldn’t see an address, I believed my GPS to be correct and I turned down the driveway.

I got to the house and didn’t see any lights on inside, and I didn’t want to wake anybody who might kill me dead, so I tried calling the number on the ticket. Since I was out in the middle of nowhere I had no reception, but someone answered and I could hear a party going on in the background. That made sense because I was delivering a large order to them, but because of the bad reception the call dropped and I couldn’t find out if I was at the right place or not.

I walked up to the front door, which took a few minutes from the driveway because the place was so large, and I started to knock on the door when I thought twice about being murdered there by some rich dude with a gun and an alibi, so I went back to my car and left the property. Besides, there was obviously no party going on there.

I made my way down the street and turned onto another street which was actually just me staying on the road I was on before. You know how those crazy country roads are. Just after I turned I saw a house up ahead with a ton of cars in the driveway and a ton of lights on in the house. I pulled up to the mailbox and saw the address.

Since the driveway was full of cars I had to park on the street. Since the street was just barely wider than one lane there was no shoulder for me to park on. And since the road was lightly traveled during it’s most heavily traveled, I knew it was safe for me to park my car right there in the middle of the road, so that’s what I did.

Once I got out of my car I had about an acre to walk up the drive before I got to the house, but I could hear the party inside from where I parked. I made my way up the drive carefully, as there was just enough light outside to keep you from believing you were in a cave and I made it to the front door, which was just barely cracked open.

I knocked loudly and the girl on the other side of the door opened it up. She smiled brightly when she saw me and invited me in.

I walked in, a little nervous and feeling out of place. I was in a rich persons house with a lot of rich kids. These were the pretty and popular kids of some rich parents who were most likely somewhere across the world at some five star resort having a mini vacation before their kids went back to school for the fall. And the kids were living it up before they had to go back. The girls there were all extremely hot and beautiful, and the guys were all really attractive as well, naturally. They were all extremely nice though and I enjoyed myself while I was there.

The girl lead me to the table in the dining room and had me sit the pizzas on the table while she went to find the guy who ordered.

This couple walks into the dining room. The guy, who was probably, maybe legal enough to drink, was at least six-foot-four and two-hundred-fifty pounds. Most likely a football player at some point in his life. The girl was dressed in a black dress, had her hair all dolled up and had makeup on. She had a drink in her hand and she was very energetic and loud. She walked right up to me and shook my hand then started talking her head off, telling me how she had cut her knee open earlier during the party. She showed me the cut by lifting her leg up and pointing to her knee, all the while showing me her crotch, as her dress was short and it came completely up when she lifted her leg.

Apparently, she had given some guy at the party the Stone Cold Stunner and cut herself on the rocks in the driveway. I didn’t get a chance to ask why she dropped to her knees when the Stunner is done by dropping to your butt. At any rate, she continued to talk to me and the other guy about how the WWE is coming to Cincinnati and how she’s got backstage tickets and can’t wait to meet the wrestlers again and how she had met them before and how much she loves wrestling… I was amazed. I had no idea hot, rich chicks loved wrestling. Who knew?

Anyway, once she got through all of that, while flexing her muscles and getting ultra pumped up about the WWE, she asked me what time I got off of work and if I wanted to come back to party hard with them all. Unfortunately I couldn’t because I had to pick up my wife from work once I left my job, but I totally wanted to go back to party. Oh, except that chances are good I would have been the oldest there and possibly the only legal one and had I gone back, the cops most definitely would have showed up and I would have been thrown in jail for supplying the alcohol to the minors, even though I hadn’t. I thanked her for the invite and said I’d think about it and left it at that.

Just then the guy with the money walks around the corner and before I realized who it was he said, “Hey! I don’t have any eggs for you this time!”

The first thing out of my mouth was, “Son of a bitch.”

We had a good time telling everyone around us about the eggs and me thinking I was going to die and they all laughed. When they all went their separate ways I turned to him and asked, “How is it I run into you in these crazy places?” He looked at me with all seriousness and replied, “Dude, I have no idea where I am right now.”

He then pulled out a stack of money from his pocket and began counting it, slowly. He then says, “I don’t have enough money.” I just shook my head. He left me to go find more people to get money from. I stood there and looked around at the other kids and realized I was too old to party there. I had become “that guy.” It was so fucking awesome that chick invited me to come back and party, but I know if I did it would have just been weird for them, and I don’t want to be that guy. I felt like the old alumni dude in “Varsity Blues” who gets hit in the nuts with the bat… too pathetic to give it up.

Finally he comes back, gives me the cash and I went back to the store with another interesting story to tell. Those were the only two times I have seen that guy so far. I guess he went back to school. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him.

Crazy egg guy.

An interesting follow up to this story, he ordered one more time that I know of. It was the following Friday night at 3 AM. I didn’t get to take the order to him and I was super pissed about it. One of the girls I work with had to take it and I told her before hand that he might offer her eggs as a tip. She laughed and went on her way. I don’t think she believed me.

She had been gone about 40 minutes when she called the store and I answered. She told me she was just calling to let us know she was okay and that she had a crazy time on the delivery and she was on her way back. Just like the call I made to the boss on my first delivery to the guy. Man, I miss that guy.

Delivery Tales: Flying The Coop

This is a new segment here at the House involving interesting things that happen to me while delivering pizza.

To get things rolling, I’ll fill you in on my background in this profession. I first started delivering pizza when I was 20 for a local chain called LaRosa’s. It’s a big time chain with a huge fan base here in the Cincinnati area. I delivered at one location for a year and a half and then moved on to other things. I later served there for six months as well.

Years later I delivered for them again at another location, with that time lasting 2 years. During those two times I really didn’t have anything interesting happen to me.

Recently I became unemployed and needed desperately to work, so I took a job with a company new to the Cincinnati area called Cousin Vinny’s. They’re a big chain in the Dayton, OH area who is trying to make a name for themselves in Cincinnati.

I’ve only been working for them for a few months now and I’ve already had more goofy encounters with them than I did in almost 4 years with LaRosa’s. Here’s one of the best stories I got.

I quickly found out that the clientele in the delivery area of Cousin Vinny’s is vastly different than those who ordered at those two LaRosa’s I worked for. You see, I deliver to a lot of fairly well off people and I first started delivering there at the end of summer, so I delivered to a lot of rich kids who loved to party. Did I mention Cousin Vinny’s delivers pizzas until 4 AM on the weekends? Of all our late night customers, a very small portion of them are sober. Most are drunk, or high, or both.

Those rich kids love to smoke weed. And not that cheap shit. The great, glows in the dark, has a crazy name, one hit type shit.

One Friday night I go out to Loveland with a pizza and some hot wings. It’s 3:30 in the morning and I’m not only new to the street I’m delivering on, I’m new to that entire area. Even now I still have to use a GPS to find most of the streets I have to go to. So I come up on the house I’m looking for and all of the lights are on in it, and outside the garage door is open. I went to the door and knocked. Nobody came to the door, so I rang the doorbell. Still nobody came to the door. I started back to my car to get my phone so I could call them when I saw three guys walking to the driveway from the side of the house. They appeared to be late teens, early twenty somethings.

They mentioned how they didn’t think I was coming so they were going to call the store and cancel the order when they ran into me. I told them the cost of their order and the tallest of the group pulls out a wad of money from his pocket and begins counting it slowly. The shortest of the group mentions how they had been partying and how they were drunk and high. He was the most wasted of the group. The third guy went into the house, and while the tall guy was counting the money over and over again, I saw through the windows of the house the third guy walking around room to room, but I thought nothing of it.

Eventually the third guy came back out to us and the tall guy whispered to him he didn’t have enough for the order. They then offered me cigarette coupons to pay for the rest of the order. When I said I couldn’t take the coupons they asked if they could just pay for the pizza while I took the wings back to the store. I probably could have done that, but what fun would that be? The tall guy who counted the money slowly told me he had more money in his car, but his car was at his house.

At this point I feel like they’re about to jump me in the driveway, steal all of my money and the food, and kill me and my car.

We went over our options and he said he could go get his car and come back, and I said that was fine, but I could almost see a light bulb above his head turn on when he came up with his next idea… I could follow them back to his house for the money.

His house was just right down the street. He swore it. I heard myself say I would follow them. I didn’t really think it out before I said it. I wasn’t sure why I said it. It just came out. I felt the tug of an adventure pulling at me, while I felt my life at risk smacking me in the face.

Keep in mind I’m completely new to the area, so I have no idea where I’m at. We left that house and drove. And we drove. We turned down so many streets I lost my way and eventually the speed limit picked up and the area became rural. So rural that had our head lights not been on we would have had more luck finding light in a cave. Houses became further and further apart while woods and farm fields filled in the spaces.

Finally we got to a gravel driveway and it went off of the road through a thick patch of woods which were even darker. I could see the light from my headlights being sucked into the darkness. As we drove up the driveway, I literally thought they were going to kill me and bury me in the woods and nobody would ever find my body. I took all of the money out of my pockets and hid it in different parts of my car.

A quarter mile up the drive we finally come up to a house. They parked and got out, so I did the same. There was one tiny light on in the house, just barely lighting up my surroundings, but I knew if I screamed from there, nobody would hear me. Help would not come.

The tall guy walked over to me and put his arm around me. With his other arm he pointed off into the woods at a building I could just barely see.

He says, “For the food, right now, I could give you two live chickens.”

The other two guys laughed. So did I, but it was a nervous laughter. I wasn’t sure if he was serious or delaying my death by fucking with me and having some fun first.

I told him I had no use for living chickens so he made another offer. “I could give you some farm fresh eggs! Laid yesterday!”

I told him I was a fan of farm fresh eggs, but that I had just purchased a dozen eggs from the store the day before, which I had. He reluctantly gave up and went into the house. I talked to the other two guys while he was in there, and they were really nice. It eased my mind a bit, but I still felt as if I was going to be murdered.

What seemed like forever but was probably only a couple of minutes went by and the guy finally came out of the house carrying a giant plastic jar that pretzel rods probably came in. The jar was full of loose change. He asked for light, so I held up my cell phone to the jar and he dug through it to get the dollar bills out. Eventually he had not only paid for the order, but had also given me a tip.

And then he handed me a lumpy package wrapped in paper towels. I opened it up carefully to find four farm fresh eggs.

We all had a great laugh, I told them I thought they were going to kill me and they laughed, and then they gave me directions back to the highway after asking me if they could request me the next time they ordered. I said they better.

As soon as I had reception I called my boss to tell him I was okay. I got back to the store at quarter after 4 in the morning. I had the eggs two days later, fried, on sandwiches. And they were delicious.

Not Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse

I read something somewhere sometime, I think it was over at The Cutter’s place, where he mentioned something about being a zombie apocalypse survivor and how he wouldn’t be good at it. It got me to thinking about it and I really wouldn’t be either. Like, at all.

The scary thing is, we’ll probably see something that could be called a zombie apocalypse sometime in our future. My wife and I are looking forward to it. I mean, the end of man kind as we know it? That would rule. Never having to work again, never answering to the law again, never dealing with traffic or traffic lights or rush hour, never paying bills again…

This Mankind will probably survive. He's a badass. Source

This Mankind will probably survive. He’s a badass. Source

And then I started to really think about it. And I’ve been thinking about it since I first read that post I linked back to oh so long ago (2 whole paragraphs up) and yeah, I’d suck at it hardcore.

First of all, if I’m hoping to have no traffic on the roads, I have to hope the zombie apocalypse happens sometime around 4 AM so that there are no cars on the road when it happens. Hopefully that will keep down on the amount of abandoned cars littering our roads and highways, but I seriously doubt that that is going to happen.

I mean, the zombie apocalypse probably really won’t get out of control unless there are a lot of people out and about. And that only happens during the day when there are a ton of people driving around. So the roads being nice and clear is completely out.

And with the way bill collectors are, they’ll probably still be trying to get in touch with me during the apocalypse. Assholes. So never having to pay bills again would be out. Not that I pay them now. Heh.

But then…

I’m fat and out of shape. I can run surprisingly fast for a fat guy, but not for very long. I’m sort of like a fat cheetah. I can run pretty fast for like 3 seconds. And then I’m done. I have to hope for slow zombies and in all honesty they’ll most likely be slow. And I’ll out-walk a zombie any day of the week. Fuck them.


I can’t climb trees either. Not an accurate portrayal of me as a fat cheetah. Source

But it all depends on what kind of zombies we get. It all depends on what virus the government leaks out to the general public. If they’re trying to make a super strong army of the future, or if they’re trying to slow the enemy down. If they’re fast, I think we’re all fucked, but if they’re slow, the apocalypse might not last very long. So I’m torn, cause I want this shit to be eternal.

Also, I snore. I’ve snored most of my life, even back when I was a thin guy. At some point I’m going to have to sleep, and when I do that I’m going to snore, and then the zombies are going to eat me while I’m sleeping. That’s low down and not very fair, but that’s the problem with zombies, they’re not very sportsman like. They’re assholes. And if they’re slow zombies, that would be the opportune time for them to eat, when they can actually catch their food.

But then if I make it through the first night with no incidents and actually see day two of the apocalypse, I have bad allergies and will at some point sneeze. I’ve whittled down my sneezes from epic sinus explosions that sprayed everywhere to short little sneeze bursts that produce no spray of any kind. But they’re still loud enough that if I’m hiding in a closet in a house full of zombies, I’ll be heard. Because in my entire life I’ve never just sneezed once. There’s always at least 3, sometimes up to 10 or more, and sometimes they come rapid fire. Damn allergies.

Even if I’m not heard, those sneezes still produce a stuffy nose which will run and will eventually have to be blown. Never mind not having tissues around unless I’m lucky enough to be in a place with them (or TP), when I blow my nose, it will alert something.

Oh, and what comes after that? The asthma. Without an inhaler, which I’m sure I’ll be able to get if I can break into a pharmacy and steal a few for the road, I’ll be sitting meat for any type of zombie who comes along, slow or fast.

Let’s say I can figure a way out to get through all of that. If the zombie apocalypse happens tomorrow, and I can get through all of the shit I just listed, I still own no weapons. I have some knives but seriously, you don’t bring a knife to a zombie apocalypse unless you know how to throw them, which I don’t.

I don’t own any ninja swords. I don’t own any guns, except for a shotgun which has never had any ammo and has never been fired. So I could use it as a club, but… I don’t even have any bats. I could use my broom, or my Swiffer. Yeah, unlikely.

And even if I DID own a gun, I don’t really know how to shoot. In my life I’ve fired a pistol once. Maybe twice. But it was on the same day, years ago. So I can actually shoot a gun, but I probably won’t hit anything.

So there it is. I’m screwed. Also, I have no actual survival training or experience, I can’t grow plants at all (my thumb is not green) so growing vegetables and what not probably won’t happen.

Should I be able to actually get out of my house, in my car, and drive to the country where the population is smaller and the chance of surviving is higher, and I should just so happen to stumble upon a vacant farm with animals that could provide milk, eggs and meat of several varieties, and I could grow some crops to eat, I still wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. I’ve never worked on a farm. I don’t know how to milk a cow or pluck a chicken or grow corn.

I’m fucked.

As much as I would love to see a zombie apocalypse happen, I just have to face facts. I’ll most likely be one of the first zombies, or I’ll be one of the first meals. And that sucks. I won’t get to enjoy my freedom at all. Which puts me in an awkward position. Now that I’ve evaluated my chances of survival, do I still want the zombie apocalypse to happen or not?

Fuck yeah I do. I’d be an awesome zombie.

To Weed Or Not To Weed

Those of you who read this blog should know that I’m a supporter of marijuana and the legalization of it. Or just the decriminalization, I don’t care which. It’s not hard to know, I’ve posted about it before and I got some links around the place that show I support NORML and like-minded groups. And unless marijuana anally rapes my mother while pouring sugar in my gas tank I’ll probably always support it, whether I smoke it or not.

Which right now I do not.

You see, I quit a few months back so that I could get a job, and there lies the reason for this post.

I don’t think it’s a jobs business what I do in my off hours, as long as it doesn’t affect my ability to perform at work. Do they care what I’m eating? A shitty diet can lead to disease or impairment that might affect what I do on the job, but nobody’s giving me a pre-employment blood screening for diabetes or cholesterol content. Hell, they don’t even care what it is I eat while there on my lunch break, as long as it isn’t human remains.

I could go on and on with what kind of off the wall, crazy, illegal bullshit I could be doing in my private time and how no job gives a flying fuck about any of it, but I won’t. What I will say is, the fact that any job pre-screens for drugs is bullshit, and here’s why.

I guess I should first clarify that no job should care if anybody smokes weed. It’s not a drug. It’s just not. Drugs are man made. If someone altered some random plant that before did absolutely nothing and then after made you high, then it would be a drug. But marijuana has grown with its properties since before man walked this earth. If dinosaurs knew how to roll a joint they would have been getting high long before us.


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I recently posted a long joke as part of a Daily Prompt uh, prompt. And the ending is what makes it, despite the telling of the joke being detail oriented. The best thing about these jokes is just that, you spend so much time building up a story involving one thing and then you deliver the punchline which has nothing to do with the details you spent so much time divulging.

With that in mind, I actually know a few of those jokes, The Pink House included, that are all basically the same thing. So, to be sure to have everyone at a party hating you, remember these jokes and tell them the next time you want to have your ass kicked. I’ve been hit more times by telling these jokes than at any other time in my life. And it was all worth it.

Without further ado, here’s my favorite. I’ve heard variations of this, with the “word” being other crazy, not-actual words. So you can use what you like, and of course, when telling the joke make it as long or short with as many, or few details as you like. This is the way I always told it.

Purplecia (pronounced purple-see-ya, if it matters)

Little Billy had just started schooling and was in Kindergarten. The first week of school had gone by and he was loving it. He was making all sorts of new friends and learning all kinds of new things. And then one day on the playground, Little Suzy came up to him.

“Hey Billy,” she said, “I know a word you don’t know!”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Billy asked, wanting to learn even more.

“I can’t tell you because it’s REALLY bad.”

This peaked his interest. “Well, what is it? I won’t tell!”

Little Suzy shook her head. “I shouldn’t, it’s really bad. If you tell anybody this word you’ll get in trouble!”

Well, Little Billy was never in trouble. He had a great home life as an only child with two wonderful and loving parents. He had never been spanked or yelled at for anything. He was the perfect child.

“Come on Suzy, I promise I won’t tell! I want to know the word!”

Little Suzy shuffled where she stood, contemplating, and then finally gave in. “Okay fine, but you can’t tell anybody! The word is… ‘purplecia’.” After she told Little Billy she ran off to play with the other kids.

Little Billy’s eyes lit up. He knew a new word! And apparently it was a bad word! He was so ecstatic, but there was just one problem. He had no idea what it meant. It was cool to know a new word but he had no idea just what made it so bad. Curiosity got the better of him so he decided that he would have to tell someone this new word he learned just so he could figure out what it meant.

Little Billy went up to a teacher who was on recess duty and tugged on her dress. The teacher looked down at him with a smile.

“Well hello Billy! What can I do for you?”

Little Billy was hesitant but he just had to know what “purplecia” meant. So he finally got up the courage and said, “Well Mrs. Johnson, I was just over there on the playground when Suzy told me a word. I like the word because I have never heard it before, but I don’t know what it means.”

Mrs. Johnson looked at Little Billy and asked, “Well Billy, what’s the word?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t want to get in trouble. She said it’s a bad word and I shouldn’t tell anybody. But I really want to know what it means.”

Mrs. Johnson smiled at Little Billy. “It’s okay Billy, you can tell me and I’ll do my best to explain what it means and I promise you won’t get in trouble.”

Little Billy was relieved to hear he could trust Mrs. Johnson. “Okay, the word Suzy told me is ‘purplecia’.”

Mrs. Johnson’s smile faded quickly and her jaw dropped. “Oh good lord! Billy that’s horrible! Go to the principals office immediately!”

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Friendship Plaza

Where I live is a pretty shitty neighborhood. It’s not the worst, but it’s not the best either. Recently there was a homicide by gun at a local pizza place just down the road from my house. My wife was concerned but I wasn’t. I don’t eat there. I’m sorry for the guy’s death and his friends and family’s loss, but his pizza sucked. The place that was there before him had excellent pizza. Not sure why they closed and his place was successful, but anyway, I digress.

This entire neighborhood sucks. Hartwell, where I live, is probably the nicest of the shitty areas around here, but there’s one neighborhood just to the north of us called Wyoming that is nice. It’s actually richy-rich nice, filled with uppity white people who probably all have maids and “help”, who’s yards are all perfectly groomed and who’s houses are more expensive than entire streets in my neighborhood. And poor Wyoming, they’re surrounded by shit neighborhoods on all sides. You can actually tell when you enter and leave Wyoming just based on the road. It’s taken care of in Wyoming and nice, but once it turns to shit with potholes and dead bodies littering the gutters, you know you’ve left the area.

The funny thing about this, as far as Hartwell is concerned, is on Yelp, the popular “check in and review” website where you can let others know you’re at a business while you’re at that business, says that all of the businesses on Vine Street (the main road that goes through Hartwell and Wyoming) on the Hartwell side, are in Wyoming. I’ve written them to tell them but they haven’t changed a thing. I guess nobody would actually go to those businesses if they knew they were actually in Hartwell and not Wyoming.

The pizza place where the guy was killed is Cosmic Pizza, in case you didn’t click the link that would have told you that. Just for shits and giggles I looked them up on Yelp and sure enough…

Proof. Yelp is stupid.

Proof. Yelp is stupid.

There’s even a family doctor’s office in Hartwell called “Wyoming Family Practice” because once again, nobody would trust any doctor working in Hartwell. But Wyoming? Where do I sign up?

Yeah, everyone around here wants to be associated with Wyoming because it’s so fucking nice, it’s just that nobody around here can afford to live there other than the doctors and lawyers and billionaires that actually do live there.

Now, the shittiest neighborhood bordering Wyoming would have to be Lockland. Lockland is a special town, filled with crack heads and deadbeats. Just driving through Lockland will get you thrown in jail for a year, if you actually ran into a cop while driving through there. Not even they like to drive through there.

Lockland’s high school is so dangerous their school paper has an obituary column.

There’s one road, Wyoming Avenue, that goes from Vine Street in Wyoming (it’s actually called Springfield Pike in Wyoming) to and through Lockland. For the sake of this piece I’m going to go the opposite way, from Lockland into Wyoming, A to B on the map below. I just made the trip at midnight tonight because I don’t fear for my life as long as I don’t get stopped at a red light. This is what you see. You can actually do a street view tour on Google Maps and see this shit, and I recommend it. Keep in mind the images you’ll see on Google Maps were taken a few years ago. It looks even worse now.

Let the journey begin.

Let the journey begin.

Starting at the intersection of Wyoming and Wayne Avenues, you’ll notice two tax prep services across from one another on two of the four corners. On the other two corners are auto mechanics. Heading towards Wyoming you’ll see businesses on either side, as this is a business district. The road is cracked and sucks, just like the sidewalks. There are a few trees on the sidewalks, like there might be for ambiance or whatever, but they are typically dead or dying and are very rarely taken care of, and there are weeds growing up through the cracks on the sidewalks. It’s dark and bleak, even during the day time. Most of the businesses are closed and have been for a long time, so the buildings sit empty and vandalized.

Of the businesses that are open and running, you have an assortment of pawn shops, dollar stores, liquor stores, African American groceries, Mexican groceries and a few pubs, and they’ve also been vandalized with graffiti and such. Each of these businesses has bars on the windows which has only saved a few of the windows from being smashed out.


At the end of Lockland’s stretch is a gas station which is still boarded up and hasn’t been open for a very long time. Nobody is interested in buying it and reopening it. Remember this gas station.

You can see a sign on the bottom right that says there's a $100 fine for loud noise. Funny, because cops don't show their faces in this neighborhood.

You can see a sign on the bottom left that says there’s a $100 fine for loud noise. Funny, because cops don’t show their faces in this neighborhood.

Now, when you get here on your trip you’ll see something cool. You’ll see a railroad track that is still in operation (because Cincinnati is full of fucking trains) and it perfectly splits Lockland from Wyoming.

On the other side of the tracks, in Wyoming, you’ll see a completely different picture. The road is nicely paved and pretty. The sidewalks are cobblestone, with no weeds. Instead there are nice trees coming up through them that are always maintained, so the setting is that of beauty and growth.

Notice the nice sign welcoming you. Pretty flowers and cobblestone under it.

Notice the nice sign welcoming you. Pretty flowers and cobblestone under it.

The stores littering both sides of the road are all in operation and are all nice, high end shops. There are no bars in the windows here, nor is there graffiti or any “issues.” There’s a bridal shop and a butcher shop and other places. At night these businesses even leave their lights on, so when you drive through you can see what they are and what they offer, and it generally looks like a nice place to be.


A butcher shop and cobblestone sidewalks.

A pastry shop that is still in business. Those only thrive in nice areas.

A pastry shop that is still in business. Those only thrive in nice areas.

Once you pass through that tiny little business district you see some of the nicer homes in Wyoming, giant old houses that have been maintained and kept up for ages, with big beautiful lawns. It truly looks like a wonderful place to raise your family (if you can afford it). At the end of the road just before Vine Street is a big Wyoming school and a library. They obviously don’t care that just a half mile down the road there is one of the worst neighborhoods around.

Where is this magical place? Wyoming, OH.

Where is this magical place? Wyoming, OH.

It’s hysterical. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes I would never believe a place like this existed. The train tracks literally keep the crap from one side out of the niceness of the other side, and vice versa. The riff raff stay on their side and the yuppies stay on their side. It’s a perfect match. It’s almost like there’s an invisible dome there separating the two.

It’s such a huge difference from one side of the tracks to the other that even the trains that go down that track are graffiti’d on one side and are shiny and new on the other. Seriously. I remember my very first time on this road going from Lockland to Wyoming. I was just a kid and even I was shocked when we crossed the tracks into Wyoming. Literally shocked. I turned around in my seat and looked back at Lockland and thought to myself “fucking seriously?” It’s a sight to behold.

Well, tonight I noticed something I had never noticed before. Ever. Remember that gas station I told you to remember? Well across the street from it (where another gas station used to be and then a small time construction business) is now a park. It’s a very tiny park and it only takes up the space that the tiny gas station did, but it’s a park.



There are a few bushes that are well maintained, some benches for people to sit on, and a fucking fountain. It wasn’t running even with it being the middle of June, but still, there was a fountain. There was no graffiti or trash anywhere in this little park. It was the nicest thing in Lockland, other than the “You are now leaving Lockland” signs. It looked as if it belonged in Wyoming.

And then I saw the sign. “Lockland and Wyoming Friendship Plaza” is what it said, and I was shocked. I almost wrecked my car when I saw it. For one, nobody was in the park, even at midnight. I mean, it IS in Lockland and there are crack heads in Lockland. And crack heads love parks at midnight. Especially when there are benches and fountains and bushes.

Click for a bigger picture, if you need to, for some odd reason.

Click for a bigger picture, if you need to, for some odd reason.

I had my wife snap the above picture while we drove by this morning. I noticed the fountain was on, so at least that’s working. I stopped traffic so that we could take this. And by “stopped traffic” I mean that we were the only ones there going in either direction.

But the shocker of it all was that it was a “friendship plaza” specifically for “Lockland and Wyoming.” The amazing thing about that is, nobody who lives in Wyoming wants to go to Lockland, or even has any reason to go to Lockland. There’s literally nothing in Lockland that anybody in Wyoming would need. Except maybe drugs, because let’s face it, even rich white people do drugs.

And there’s no reason for anybody in Lockland to go to Wyoming. None. Not even just to drive through it. Not even to fucking rob one of those nice ass stores, because that shit doesn’t happen. Seriously, the people of each place stay the fuck out of the other place. Except for the maids and “help” of those rich fucks in Wyoming who most assuredly shop in the Mexican groceries in Lockland, but other than that, there is no reason for anybody to cross those tracks.

So that Friendship Plaza seems not only out of place because there’s absolutely no place for it, but completely unnecessary. Maybe between Hartwell and Wyoming, we don’t hate each other. I could see the park being used then. But Wyoming and Lockland have no fucking clue the other exists. If you’re ever in Cincinnati, I beg of you to plan a visit to this railroad spot just to witness this shit for yourself. It’s absolutely amazing. I don’t know what force there is keeping it this way, but if anybody can figure it out I’m sure that power could be used elsewhere in the world with great results.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like driving through Lockland. In another area they have a place where big warehouses and factories used to be and some of those old giant buildings are still there and they are quite awesome to look at. Some have recently been tore down, so I don’t know what’s going in there, if anything. There are also some nicer spots to dine and some cool bars and pubs that look like they’re thriving. All of Lockland isn’t a shit hole, just this stretch of road I’ve pointed out. And I only pointed it out because of the vast difference from one side of the tracks to the other. It really is an incredible spot.

Oh, and one last thing to share about that area. If you happen to travel south on Wayne a mile or two from Wyoming Avenue you come into an area just on the border of Hartwell where registered sex offenders live. There is literally an apartment complex where they all seem to go to after they’ve registered as sex offenders. This is also the homicide capital of the area. I tend to stay away from that part of town. I once got a letter in the mail telling me a registered sex offender had moved into my area and told me to go to a website to see where. I went to the website and found that sex offender had moved to a street behind my house. I then discovered there was one living in the first house on my street. And then I discovered there were billions of them living right around that same little area on Wayne. Awesome. Driving through there is like going to that Indian village Indiana Jones visits in “Temple of Doom”… no kids anywhere.