Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Snow Day

It seems cold, snowy weather has taken over the majority of the country. I love the snow. I always have. There is something about seeing your surroundings transformed into an ice and snow-lined compound that makes it feel like you are in some sort of alternate universe. Everything moves at a different pace and even the ugliest, trash-littered street becomes beautiful. And now that I live in Chicago, I get my fair share of it - which suits me fine. It is supposed to be chilly in the winter. It is not supposed to be 80 and humid. 

I heard from my brother that school is cancelled today in Dallas. I'm jealous for my nephews. Snow days were the best. It was different from a weekend or a school holiday in that it just sort of crept up on you like jock itch or a restraining order. One minute you're eating dinner and altering your report card and then next thing you know it is morning and everything is covered in ice. So awesome. I remember on snow days everyone being huddled around the radio listening KRLD do the announcement of school closings while my mom hurried around our brown 80s kitchen giving my oldest brother a list of "to do" things for all of us and telling him where the key to my cage was located. Because that was the great thing about snow days, parents still had to go to work. My dad was an early riser and gone at 6am, so it was up to my mom to tame the crew, feed Molly Brown, our Basset Hound, and Sterling, our cat, before she got in our brown 80s station wagon and took to the icy streets. And as soon as that wagon was out of sight it was a free-for-all. My oldest brother would immediately depart, leaving myself with my other brother and sister. And in only a matter of moments the house was filled with friends from all over the neighborhood. Following is a fairly accurate schedule for a snow day in the Kirk house:

8:15 - school cancelled

8:28 - mom leaves

8:30 - Cham leaves

8:44 - Price Is Right

9:00 - CHiPS

9:14 - GIANT bowl of cereal spilled on couch

9:34 - wreck blanket fort my sister and her friend made

10:00 - friends come over

10:01 - me and friends begin rifling through my dad's Playboys

10:47 - brother catches us

10:48 - temper tantrum

10:50 - Lee and friends rifle through Playboys

11:05 - take Molly out to take a dump, sans leash

11:06 - Molly runs away

11:07 - yelled at for losing dog

11:08 - 2nd temper tantrum

11:29 - put Red Barron pizza in oven

11:51 - forget about pizza

11:54 - me and friends begin rifling through oldest brother's things

12:09 - smoke alarm goes off

12:11 - yelled at about smoke alarm

12:12 - 3rd temper tantrum

12:16 - resume rifling through brother's things

12:30 - oldest brother comes home, catches us

12:31 - my friends told to leave

12:34 - go running out the door screaming "nobody likes me, I'm running away!"

12:40 - get 3 blocks down the street and realize nobody is chasing after me

12:58 - pouting on street corner gets old, decide no to run away

1:06 - back in house and pout in front of brother, sister and their friends

1:14 - rifle through sisters things

1:30 - tease cat

1:45 - pinned down and farted on by brother and his friends

1:46 - 4th temper tantrum

1:50 - run away again

2:00 - return home and nobody is there

2:00 - 5:00 - neighborhood chaos with my bike gang

THE END

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Words of Wisdom

"It's easy to grin
When your ship comes in
And you've got the stock market beat
But a man worthwhile
Is the man who can smile
When his shorts aren't to tight in the seat.

OK Pooky, do the honors!"

 - The Honorable Judge Smails

Monday, January 12, 2009

The Good Gig

Was C3PO gay? It's worth a discussion. 

So. I am, without question, convinced that Barack Obama'a mother-in-law, Marian Robinson, has landed the best gig in the history of gigging. What a deal. And I don't mean that in my usual dim-witted and sarcastic manner. Seriously, that is pretty radical and quite cool. It is said she is coming along continue to help raise the Obama girls, as she did on during the long campaign . . . the one that was fought against a well respected Vietnam Vet and an all-knowing block of yellow ice. Nobody likes a know-it-all. 

At any rate, Marian Robinson got the good deal. A beautiful house to live in and surrounded by family and high-powered automatic weapons. Imagine at anytime, day or night, you have at your disposal cooks, butlers, servants, gimps, pilots, jesters, juggling clowns, doormen, bakers, chimney sweepers, maids, sweat shop workers, bowlers, baristas, sawyers, cobblers, masons, carpenters, pimps, elevator operators, blacksmiths, juicers, reverends, rabbis, priests, cult leaders, hall monitors, librarians, carpet cleaners, electricians, plumbers, astronauts, pastry chefs, lunch ladies, VCRs, doctors, dentists, herbal healers, photographers, quilters, free loaders, climbers, cement contractors, eye glasses specialists, ticket brokers, tattoo artists, writers, fishermen, hunter & gatherers, ninjas, squash farmers, whittlers, outdoor survival specialists, zoo keepers and someone to tell you if you have any missed calls. 

That is a good deal. Think about it, having all of the trimmings of living in the big house that is white with none of the pressure. You're not the kids in school. You're not the first lady. You're not the President. You're not an aide. You're not a worker of any sort. And you're not the gardener. You don't have to hear the news of the day if you don't want to and you get your own bedroom with a stripper pole. You can completely have free reign of the joint and can walk around naked . . . because it is your house. You can do as you please. You can order a pizza any time you want. You can get the nice, soft toilet paper at no cost. You can spill your drink on the floor and not have to hide it by covering it with an end table. You can can liberally use the term "not my problem" and not feel bad about it. You can punch a hole in the wall and not have to cover it with a Baywatch poster. You can sleep out in the pool house. You can "pants" Raum Emanuel in front of the press and get a good, innocent laugh. You can ride your Hoveround up and down the halls run over people who are on the White House tour. You can sleep in any day of the week. You can drink all the boxed wine you want. You can stink up the bathroom all you want. You can make blanket forts. You can take Marine One to bingo night. You can whore around all you want, cuz you're single. You can throw a mean 4th of July Party up at Camp Dave and not invite your in-laws. You can slingshot marbles at HUMMERS from the White House roof. You can wear jorts around the house. You can burn the toast. And you can always use the excuse, "They aren't my kids" when you get lazy on the job.

Not a bad gig.

Love Always,

Tyler

Friday, January 9, 2009

Bad Breath

Hello.

Lets get down to business.

I had to go by the glasses store this morning to pickup my new glasses. I really like them. I also really like how the sign on the window says, "TWO PAIR FOR $99!". I knew it couldn't be, no way. However, I like the feeling you get when you're riding a sliver of false hope as far as it can go . . . just waiting for rug to be pulled out. It's kinda like pretending to find a fantastic deal on a tropical vacation, getting all oiled-up and packing away the Speedo and electrical tape . . . when you really know damn well you're just taking the Greyhound to Galveston for the night. I still sometimes pretend I am about to open the mail and get my perfect SAT scores, only to be knocked down and kicked in the balls by an eviction notice or a birthday card for a past tenant, which I still keep and post on the fridge. 

So anyhoo, I go into the store and am immediately greeted by a kid with a belt buckle the size of a standard F-150 engine block who was radiating the breath of something that cannot be created by man alone. I seriously had to stand a good 5 feet away. I felt bad for him until he spoke and I realized he was a real cocky and arrogant, a real prick. So, I seeked helped elsewhere and I came to find that essentially the deal for two pairs for 99 bucks pertains only to the small rack of prison-issued brown goggles in the corner next to bad breath. Out of luck. But, that 5 seconds of project letdown were well worth it.

Uhmm. I totally lost my train of thought. 

I guess I just wanted to tell everyone I got new glasses.

THE END.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

usman

It is snowing here today. I love the snow. Plus I found my iPod, the one I didn't know I had lost. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

Moving along . . . from time to time I get these silly little emails from some A-hole in Africa or somewhere who tries his or her best to solicit money by presenting some kind of elaborate, or in this case not elaborate, scheme. I don't know what kind of person - a person who has enough brain power to open a bank account - would fall for this kind of plop. But, according to a recent Dateline NBC investigation, there are many people who do fall for online money transfer parties and schemes. If this applies to you, go read a Highlights magazine

When I get these emails I usually delete them or just reply with something short and sweet like "hold me now". But sometimes I like to toy with them a bit. I had one guy going for a good 6 months last year . . . I have a blog somewhere about it and will try to dust it off and post it, complete with email exchanges. He was fun - I dangled that carrot in front of him for months and months. But much to his chagrin, I always left out a single digit or something to which he was so so so close to getting the transaction going, but never seemed to materialize. This kept our interaction alive and our relationship *spicy*. I actually got to know this dirtbag pretty well. He told me all about his fake kids and pretend college degree (ATM Corps of Cadets???), and I told him about my intimacy problems, the restraining order and multiple bouts with Scurvy. Then, just when we were about to do some real business, I kindly replied, "I changed my mind." He didn't like this. He threatened me and called me the X-rated version of a Banana Head.

So, I got another one of these this morning. And in light of the circus that is Illinois politics and in honor of our respected Governor and his dome, I went a different route. Below you will find our email transactions. 

Tyler

---------------------------------------------------

Hi usman. Thanks for the note. That's weird, I am in fact a "U.S. Man", and your name is usman. Cool. Why don't you capitalize your name? Weird.

I read your note and am interested. Very interested. I like money. I am sorry to hear about the guy who left the money and died and is all dead and stuff. Did he die of a disease or in a crash? Stinky. 

So anyway, please give me more information on how to get the ball rolling. I have filled out your form below. I am in and out of the office these days tending to other business and selling refurbished office furniture, so getting in touch might take a few tries. BUT PLEASE, be persistent. I get a lot of messages on a daily basis, so just call and call.

Looking forward to it,

Rod Blagojevich

-----------------------------------------------------------

From Mr usman salif
Bill and Exchange Manager
Bank of Africa (B.O.A.)a
Ouagadougou Burkina Faso.
West Africa.

Sorry to distract your attention, I am Mr. usman salif bill and exchange manager in the bank of Africa Burkina Faso.

In my department, I discovered the deposited fund amounted 15m United Stated Dollars owned by a disease customer who died in the air crash with his entire family.

Are you capable of assisting me, by providing your account information where this seat will lodge in your favor?

I will give you 30% of this fund as soon as this fun hits your account and I will visit you in your country for the shearing. Please this is very confidential.

If you are interested, please forward me the below informations'.

Your Name: Rod Blagojevich

Your Phone Number: 312-814-5220

Your Fax: 312-814-4862

Your Age: 47

Your Occupation: Governor

Your Address: Here is my Chicago office: James R. Thompson Center - 100 W. Randolph, 5-20. Chicago, IL 60601

Your Country: USA

Yours Faithfully,

Mr. usman Salif

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Legend of Ray

Happy New Year. How are you? How was the break? I enjoyed the festivities of the holiday very much. My family is great and I got to see new strip malls in Dallas. The traveling side of things was a bit frustrating. Being smart and things, I decided it was a good idea to fly on a buddy pass during the holidays. Bad idea. Upon my connecting flight to Chicago on my return, Midway was shutdown so I was stuck in Tulsa, Oklahoma. It had been a long day already, so at this point I had little energy and nothing but the clothes on my back and a pair of boxer shorts riding very high. After locating a hotel near the airport, I went to check-in. Below you will find an accurate depiction of the events that occurred from the time I arrived at the hotel to the time I left. It was odd. Very odd. On top of the inconvenience of being laid up in the home town of the rock band 'Hanson' of Umm Bop fame, I was greeted at the hotel by a very flamboyant gentleman named Ray who was extremely concerned about my diet and overall daily caloric intake. 

8:14 pm: I check into the Tulsa Airport Holiday Inn. 

Ray: "Hello. I am Ray. (looks at my distressed passenger itinerary) Oh, I'm so sorry about your flight, sir. I mean Mr. Kirk. Unfortunately, our kitchen is closed for the holidays . . . but as you can see we have quite a fruitful and delectable selection of goodies and even a few trinkets like playing cards and Sudoku puzzles (waves hand over display case in a Price Is Right 'Barker Beauty' sort of way) ...even though I just don't understand it. What is Sudoku, some kind of Chinese crossword? Shhhhhh, I shouldn't say that."

Ty: "OK. Thanks. I'll probably just order something. What room, 228?"

Ray: "Are you sure, Mr. Kirk. It's been a long day, I'm sure. You look parched. Weak."

Ty: "No. I'm just tired as hell."

Ray: "Oh, bless your heart. You should eat something."

Ty: "Thank you, Raymond."

Ray: "OK. Ooh, it looks like it's going to rain. I just love storms."

Ty: "Goodbye Ray."

8:24 pm: Inside hotel room. Phone rings. *Ring Ring*.

Ty: "Hello."

Ray: "Oh, hi Mr. Kirk. This is Ray at the front desk. How is everything? Getting settled OK?"

Ty: "Great. Thanks."

Ray: "OK, because I wanted to tell you that I just talked to my friend Steven across the street at the Embassy Suites, and the dining room is open. So, you know, you could go over there to eat. It is very pleasant."

Ty: "Sounds good."

Ray: "Shall I call over and let them know you're coming?"

Ty: "No."

Ray: "OK. Well, it's there if you need it. It's great. And Steven is working and everything, so he will make sure you get everything you need."

Ty: "Alright."

Ray: "I'd also be more than happy to go through our concierge service and with you. We have it all on the computer here. You can come down and take a look."

Ty: "That's OK."

Ray: "Well. OK then. Call if you need anything. I'll be here."

Ty: "Goodbye, Ray." Click.

8:39 pm: Inside hotel room watching Cheaters and the Great Joey Greko. Phone rings. *Ring Ring*.

Ty: "Hello."

Ray: "Hello, Mr. Kirk? This is Ray at the front desk."

Ty: "Yes Raymond."

Ray: "I wanted to tell you we also have a collection of takeout menus from local eateries. It is mostly Chinese and pizza, but a very nice selection, if I do say so myself."

Ty: "OK. I'm good, but thanks."

Ray: "Shall I send them up?"

Ty: "No."

Ray: "OK. And just a reminder that we have lots of snacks in the lobby and there are also vending machines next to the ice machine in the stairwell."

Ty: "OK. Thanks."

Ray: "Is there anything else you need?"

Ty: "I didn't need this, Ray."

Ray: "I see. Well, just wanted to make sure you know there are many options for food and nourishment. You can also take a taxi to the Chili's or the Mexican place."

Ty: "I appreciate it Raymond. But I just ate the bar of complimentary soap, so I am good."

Ray: "The soap, you what? What?"

Ty: "Goodbye, Ray."

8:51 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not asnwer.

9:05 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

9:19 pm: Knock on the door. A pause. Another knock. Phone rings. *Ring Ring*.  A stack of menus is slipped under my door.

9:25 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

9:28 pm: I go over my list of enemies.

9: 31 pm: I order a pizza.

9:41 pm: Phone rings. *Ring ring.* I do not answer. Red message light flashes. I don't check it. 

9:44 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

9:49 pm: I make use of the Holy Bible in the bedside stand. 

9:50 pm: I become frightened . . . I wipe down everything in the room with sanitary napkins and Fabreze. I burn the bedding in the bathtub and make Holy Water.

10:10 pm: Pizza arrives.

Pizza Man: "What's up with the desk guy?"

Ty: "What do you mean?"

Pizza Man: "He was all weird, wanted to bring this up here instead of me."

Ty: "Did he get anywhere near this pie?"

Pizza Man: "No."

Ty: "Promise?"

Pizza Man: "Yes."

Ty: "Seriously dude. He didn't touch it? Was he wearing lipstick?"

Pizza Man: "No, you're good. Have a good night."

10:39 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

11:01 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

11:02 pm: I make certain room is double bolted and the chain is secure.

11:03 pm: I move entertainment center in front of door.

11:04 pm: I tie sheets together in case the need for a quick escape from the 2nd floor arises. 

11:07 pm: I take down shower curtain and make a spear, sharpening it one end with various television parts.

11:17: I concoct a sort of home made mace...a mixture of complimentary mouthwash, shampoo and crushed red pepper.

11:26: pm: Go to sleep fully clothed.

11:32 pm: Phone rings. *Ring Ring*. I do not answer.

6:00 am: I awake. Leave through sheet escape and sprint to airport.

11:30 am: I arrive in Chicago. My bags do not arrive in Chicago.

Two Days Later pm: My bags arrive at Midway. Since I flew on a buddy pass the airline will not deliver them.

THE END.