When I get my Commodore 64 sweater it’s gonna be wall-to-wall hickies!
The Ridge Ave/Kelly Dr off ramp: the only place where one can get to 2nd base in football
As Dire as They Wanna Be
I fixed the windows!
Anyone know an attorney who specializes in copyright infringement and the year 2005?
Never meant to make your [copyright] lawyer cry. I apologize a trillion times.
You guys- Jury duty outfit help! Train’s comin’!!
… after the maintenance man licks his hand before forcing the door shut, and then return to my office to eat peanut butter with a fork, I’m reminded that instead of being 2 months away from my MSW, I should be writing lyrics for Kool Keith.
The following notes (passed to me during the Reagan era) were found a box in my folks’ attic, commingled with a couple of Blanche Knott’s Truly Tasteless Joke Books, which I stole from a local bookstore in the mid-80s, and likely brought back to the giant, hollowed-out shrub we used as a clubhouse. I passed the shrub last week and wished it wasn’t trimmed to 6 inches off the ground. Prob for the best. “33 Year Old Man Found By Police in Clifton, NJ Shrubbery”, although funnier than any Onion headline in the past year, would not bode well, employment-ally, in the event of a google.
Planting land mines around Ronny’s grave seems so petty upon recent reflection on how our lives had run parallel:
Minutes after Reagan was sworn in, the hostages were released from Iran, sparking accusations by the left that he orchestrated “The October Surprise.”
Minutes after my first day of school, my pee was released in my chair, sparking accusations by Elise Geiger that I was, “A pee-er!!”
In 1986, after bombing Libya, Reagan declared, “Today we did what we had to do. They counted on America to be passive. They counted wrong.”
In 1986, after watching Iron Maiden’s Live After Death VHS, I declared, “Priest Sucks.”
Cindy (below) was my first “girlfriend”. This note was pre-dating (read: pre-1st base on the West Point field trip bus ride in 1989).
No sooner than the waft of Stiff Stuff from this note dissipated, Cindy dumped me in the hallway and gave back my pewter drum pin. That weekend, I danced with this girl Jen at a marching band-sponsored dance at a VFW hall in West Paterson. I vaguely recall going to Hot Grill
or maybe Rutt’s Hut
with her, but, aside from a general sense of not liking her and thinking she was mean (and ‘didn’t even like metal anyway’) I have no other memories of her whatsoever.
What a commitment-phobe! Maybe I asked if she wanted to get gravy fries the following Friday after school. Foiled! 15 is too young for a gravy-stained extremely serious relationship promise ring. I see that now. I wonder if she’s a grown up, 33 year old crazy lady who writes emails like this to ex boyfriends. I wonder if she married whoever Billy is and works at Linens ‘n Things in Totowa.
Finger of fate, how you fingerblast me on the tracks above Pathmark and call me a slut to the whole clarinet line.