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Last Updated: 7/7/2008

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Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 30
Sign: Capricorn

Country: US
Signup Date: 3/25/2007

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Wednesday, February 18, 2009 



Vic sat in his living room picking at his fingernails in frustration. He was so close. He had nailed the interview. It was a lock. How could something so silly cost him his first job opportunity in 5 months. Being laid off was hurting Vic. He was a Financial Analyst at a bank that tanked and left him with 2 weeks severance.

He decided this was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. Vic raised up looked in his immaculate backyard. The area had made his work since being unemployed. Trimmed bushes lined along the property line, green rye grass throughout, it was his best landscaping yet. Not bad for a city boy he thought.

Vic turned and moped up the staircase into his exercise room. The house was outside of his means and he knew it. It was for sale for a year and he had 2 people look at it. Vic just couldn’t believe what happened to him today. He wanted to take action. He had enough of people taking advantage of him and disregarding the good intention of his actions.

From the closet, he withdrew a 14 gauge shotgun. Only used twice on a company hunting trip, Vic was a good shot. He sat and turned on some Jackson Browne to calm his nerves. As he tapped his foot, he inserted the shells into the gun.   He wasn’t changing his outfit for this occasion. In fact, it was the reason in the first place.

He wrapped the gun in some bath towels and got into his Malibu. He put on NPR since it ws playing classical music this time of the day. Something he shamefully knew all too well.  As Vic turned into the mall, he saw the sparse cars in the parking lot. Mostly workers. Sad, he thought. But that was just the way it was. He transferred the shotgun into a large suit bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the clothes hanger at the top and straddled it across his back. He figured he’d go in through the west entrance. Where the food court was. The noise would motivate him. As he walked through the doors, he held it for the woman and her kids behind him. She walked in untouched and didn’t even pass off a thank you.

Frustrated and angry, Vic sat down near the Sbarro. Sbarro, what a joke. He looked over at the illegal immigrants who might pass for Italian to someone with limited eyesight and rage began to build up. He decided to go the Fry Rye Dragon and get a special. 7 bucks for a plate of rice. Whatever, Vic thought. He sat down at a different table and reminisced about the day. He had nailed that interview. Damnit he thought. He was oblivious what was going on the whole time. Only when he saw his reflection in the elevator afterward did he see it. Embarrassing.

He threw his Styrofoam container in the trash and walked down the hall past the eateries. His senses were heightened. He smelled danishes, coffee, chicken, and hot dogs. He felt like he had entered another dimension. He turned left and walked toward the anchor store, Hechts. The sign became blurry as he stared at it and drew closer. At the entrance, he stopped for a moment and looked at all the perfume counters and smiled. As he proceeded through the zig zag of glass cases, he looked up and saw a sign that read Menswear. He followed the arrow and saw the person he was looking for. The guy who sold him his pants.

“Hey, David, is it?” Vic asked.

“Yes, sir. Oh I remember you. How did your interview go?”

“Not good. Actually, that’s why I am here.”

“Oh, too bad. Sorry to hear that. How did those brown pants treat you.”

Vic paused and looked down at his pants. You see the pants were the whole cause of the demise that occurred today.

“That green shirt looks good on you. Knew it would go well with the pants and tie.”

Vic looked up and was astonished at the guy’s comment. He stared at him with rage.

Vic looked back down at his pants, then his shirt.

True, the pants did look brown here in the store. You could not deny that. But, that didn’t matter. What matter is how they looked in the lighting in the interview room earlier today. There, these pants were green. Together with a light green shirt, he looked like a giant pea pod. He heard the secretaries snickering at him as he left.

“David, these pants are green.”

“Hahaha. That’s funny. They’re brown sir.”

“They’re green.”

“Brown.”

Vic unzipped his suit bag and drew the shotgun.

David became awestruck and pale instantly.

“You’re coming with me. I’m gonna show you.”

Vic pressed the barrel against David as they left the store together. It was amazingly easy to get out of the mall without anyone even being suspicious. They got in Vic’s car and headed to the office where Vic had the interview.

.. ..

“Sir, maybe they didn’t care about the color of your pants. Maybe you’ll get the job.”

“Shut it. It’s over.” Vic punched David in the mouth. It felt good to Vic. He wanted to do that to someone for a long time.  Mainly, his old boss, but this guy would do.

They entered the parking garage and got past the security attendant. He still had his parking pass from earlier in the day.

He parked in space 158 and the two of them entered the building via the stairwell. The echo of their footsteps was eerie to Vic. It was as if he was entering the end.

They go to the main floor and signed in. Vic had his suit bag and no one asked any question. They entered the elevator and a woman entered and pressed Floor 12. That’s where they needed to go.  They exited the elevator and Vic pointed to his pants.

“See?”

“Yes, they are green. Full refund. Buy one get one.”

“Too late man. Let’s go.”

Vic walked down the hall and entered the interview room. There was another candidate in there. Vic looked at him in his beautiful suit. Perfectly matched and well groomed. Vic in an furious fit began to unzip his bag. In walked Charlie Powell, the hiring manager.

“Vic. What are you doing here. Actually, I am glad you came. Can I see yo for a minute?”

Surprised, Vic replied, “Sure.”

The two left the room. Vic could see David pleading his case to the other candidate waving his hands in the air and making a gesture with a gun. The candidate looked like he believed him and got up.

Charlie noticed what was going on and became distracted from what he was going to tell Vic.

The candidaet stood up and exited the interview room.

“Mr. Powell. This guy is a killer. He came here to kill us all because of the color of his pants.”

“That’s absurd. Don’t try to downgrade another candidate. That’s unprofessional.”

“But Mr. Powell, I am serious.”

“Get out of my office right now. And you too. Is this guy with you Vic?”

“No. He jut got off the elevator with me. No idea who he is.”

David looked at Vic as if he was totally insane and ran off.

“Well Vic, I was going to tell you that this guy in here was going to be our man. But since he just flaked out, I guess you’re our man. I had you as the #2 candidate and it looks like you moved up to #1.”

“Oh, Mr. Powell, I can’t thank you enough.”

“By the way, what’s in the bag?”

“Oh, a pair of brown pants I was supposed to wear today but they got stuck at the cleaners.”

“Glad to hear. I knew there was a reason you were dressed like Guido. See you Monday”

“Thanks!”

Vic got in the elevator and threw the gun atop the elevator shaft. He exited the elevator to see David and a security guard waiting for him.

“He has a gun in that bag!”

“Open the bag sir.”

Vic unzipped the bag and it was an empty hanger.

The security guard looked at David, “Sir, what kind of demented clothes salesman are you?”

6:10 PM 
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Sunday, February 01, 2009 

I remember the day I met Roy from Buffalo. He was just trying to do his job, and I was trying to get away from mine.

I was still working at Youtek and I had a long conference call with the Regional Sales Directors which stretched out over 7 hours. Needless to say, it was a heated meeting, and I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink the whole time.

When the meeting let out, I was ready to just hit the vending machines near the restroom and call it a day. I had to get out quickly too. If my manager caught me before I could sneak out I knew I'd be stuck writing a follow up report for the next 2 hours. But when I hit the vending machines I learned about the new structuring program.

There I stood in front of the vending machine, dollar in hand, and there was Roy...inside the vending machine.

"What the fuck are you doing?!! Get out of the machine!!" I instructed Roy, but Roy stood his ground in front of the Twix bars.

"No no sir, I cannot leave my post. I work here. This is my workstation." Roy replied in a thick Indian accent.

Thats when I saw Cafferty walking to the mens room. I stopped him to see if he knew what was happening.

"Cafferty, have you seen this? Theres an Indian guy in the vending machine."

"Yeah, fuckin Youtek outsourced our vending company. They got Slumdog Millionaire in there working 47 hour workweeks and they're paying him in Rupies."

"I am not a slumdog millionare.I am Roy from Buffalo."

At this point I was pissed.

"You mean to tell me buddy, that this shithole company has now even outsourced the vending machine fillers with cheap Indian labor? Where are you from, who hired you?"

"I cannot tell you who hired me sir, all I can tell you is that my name is Roy and I am from Buffalo. Now make your purchase please.Go ahead sir. Put your money in the slot."

"Alright fuck it." I said while feeding the dollar into the slot. It was only then that I realized there was no keys to punch in my selection.

"Where are the keys?"

"They are in here with me.Go ahead sir. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you wish to purchase."

"Ahhh, I guess I'll have the sunchips."

"Then tell me."

"I just told you."

"No sir. Tell me."

"I JUST FUCKIN TOLD YOU!!"

"Okay Okay. Tell me the letters and numbers for the sunchips."

"Are you serious?!? There right there behind the Elephant man you got in there with you."

"This is not the Elephant Man, it is Ganesh."

"Whatever!! Just give me my fuckin Sun Chips!!"

" I need you to tell me the letters and numbers sir. I cannot give you any snacks from this machine without the letters and numbers first. It is standard protocol to..."

"A2!!"

"Okay Okay I shall do the needful." Roy stated as he punched in A2. I saw my Sun Chips begin to push forward but then suddenly stop."Thank you sir. And you have a good day to you today sir."

"What the fuck are you talking about? The Sunchips didn't drop."

"Oh yeah yeah yeah."

"Are you gonna give them to me."

"I am not permitted to touch the merchandise, only the keypad."

"Just knock my fuckin sunchips down so I can get out of here."

"No no no, you are not listening to me. I cannot touch the chips.Any of the chips."

"Then give me my dollar back."

"In order to get your dollar back you will need to email vending services."

"I'm not sending no fuckin email. This is fuckin ....do you got a supervisor or something I can talk to?"

"Okay Okay I'll do the needful." Roy said again as he punched a code into the keypad."My supervisor will be with you shortly sir. In the meantime how is the weather where you are?"

"I don't know. I'm inside. Because of you, asshole."

It was then that the Pepsi machine next to me opened up and as Pepsi can's fell across the floor,another,older Indian man came out.

"I am Roy's supervisor. Go ahead. Tell me."

"Yeah I'll tell you. I just put a dollar in the machine and this asshole won't give me my sunchips."

"I typed in A2 sir."

"He says he typed in A2 for you."

"Yeah and look!! My chips are dangling behind Ganesh. Tell him to knock them down."

"I am sorry sir. We are not authorized to touch the merchandise once it has been stocked."

"Then give me my dollar back."

"Did you send an email to vending..."

"I'M NOT SENDING A FUCKIN EMAIL!!!"

"Peter, he has been irrate like this from the beginning."Roy said.

"Listen PETER FROM BUFFALO."

"No no no sir I am not from Buffalo."

"Finally at least your not lying to me."

"I am from White Plains sir."

"GODDAMNIT!! THAT DOES IT!!" I yelled as I flew into a rage I did not know I was capable of.

I began banging on the machine with the bottom of my fists. And despite Peter and Roys attempts to talk me down, I was now running on pure adrenaline.

I knocked the vending machine on it's side with Roy pleading for his life while clinging to his statue of Ganesh inside and proceeded to kick the glass open. I reached in and grabbed my sunchips and helped myself to one of the Pepsi's on the ground and headed towards the door.

And I almost got away with it.

"Hold it right there Son."

I turned around and saw my boss standing with Peter and the security guard. We were escorted into my bosses office where I pleaded my case onto deaf ears.It was then I was on my second con call of the day. This time with the VP of vending services who was in Mumbai.

I was told that this was how Youtek has chosen to do business and I had better play ball. Despite my arguments, this con call ended with me being fired for stealing a Pepsi.

And thats how I met Roy from Buffalo. He was just trying to do his job and I managed to get away from mine.


 

..
4:49 AM 
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Wednesday, January 21, 2009 

Today, a day after the historic speech of President Barack Obama, we’d like to look into its success. I have here Gene Shallet, a world-reknowned movie critic to get his take on it.

“Good Morning Gene”

“Good Morning Vietnam”

“My name is Tom”

“My Name is Earl”

“But your Gene..”

“Ha. And your Nobody’s Fool”

“Ok. Let’s get started. What did you think of President Obama’s speech yesterday?”

“It was Definitely, Maybe the best speech in the History of the World, Part I.”

“What did you like about it so much?”

“I loved how he started strong and began Breaking Away from the usual rhetoric and Made the crowd so part of it. Noone felt like a Cast Away.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“Well, it’s Funny Farm that you mention that. I actually have written my own version of how I would address the nation.”

“Really?! Please do share.”

“My fellow Americans. I know some of you have some Fear right now. I know that many of you have lost jobs Out of Nowhere and are Living in America wondering what will happen The Day After Tomorrow. Some of you are Waiting to Exhale by yelling out a Scream of “Oh God!” to those around you. But Only You can help rebuild this country. When our forefathers like washington and Hancock developed this government, they had the Wisdom to know when it was time for a Quick Change. JFK stood here, made his speech and took this nation to the next level. Even Nixon took us to a foreign land to take us from that Big Trouble in Little China. But I stand here before you to tell you that America is Hard to Kill. And I, with your help, will take us from the Abyss we are in and send us to the top of the world so that we are once again a prosperous and great country. I am not a Liar, Liar. I am no Illusionist. And to be honest, it will take some Dirty Work. But I am speaking to you now from my heart and promise to take us Back to the Future where we belong. But we must be strong. Just because you are a Pretty Woman doesn’t mean you can be a Cry Baby. We need you to be solid like The Rock that stands over there. If you do, I will ensure I will protect this country and its citizens. If someone attacks, I will send All the Presidents Men to take care of whoever those Goonies are and let them know that we are Out for Justice.

Over the next 4 years, I will do whatever takes. I mean, What’s the Worst That Could Happen? All of Me is dedicated to this task and promise it won’t be another Neverending Story. So, continue Keeping the Faith and I will do the same. God Bless You and God Bless America.”

“Well done, Gene. Have you ever thought running for President?”

“I am not a Running Man, but if I was, I would be Gung Ho about getting into the Election. It’s not for me though. I prefer to be Behind Enemy Lines in the movie business, which is what we call in Hollywood can the Monkey Business!. I think Barack will do a good job. Thanks for the interview but I have to leave, my granddaughter, She Is Having a Baby and I have to Quicksilver over there since it’s been 9 Months since my grandson in-law gave her the ‘ol Dead Bang.”

“Good Night”

“ and Good Luck.”

10:38 PM 
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Monday, December 08, 2008 

1990 Beverly Hills California -

Tom Sellick takes the stage with Ted Danson at the wrap party for 3 Men and a Little Lady...

Sellick stands at the podium and begins giving a speech while Steve Guttenberg is busy putting the moves on a clearly disinterested middle aged waittress.

"Come on Baby I gotta room at the plaza...oh shit, they're starting without me again." Guttenberg says as he throws his room key at the waitresses feet, lunges through the crowd and slides onto the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Sellick states over the microphone which is suddenly yanked hard to the left.

"And LITTLE LADIES, we should add." Guttenberg adds as he gives his trademarked devilish grin while leaning over the podium.

Ted Danson calmly pulls Guttenberg away from the mic.

"Come on Steve. That's enough now." He says to Guttenberg.

"Thanks Ted." Sellick continues. "Look we just wanted to say that if audiences enjoy watching this movie as much as we enjoyed making this movie with all of you, then we got a real smash on our hands."

Ted Danson stepped to the podium, raising his Champagne Flute.

"TO 3 MEN AND A LITTLE LADY!!" He toasted.

The crowd joined him and the jazz combo began playing their next set as Danson and Sellick walked off the stage together.

"And if I could just add- Here's to the NEXT 3 MEN AND A BABY movie, It's gonna be the biggest thing since the Cosby show!! Look out Summer of 91, cause Guttenberg and the gang are gunnin' for ya!! LET'S HERE IT FOR THE BOYS!!" Guttenberg added while raising Danson's empty champagne flute in the air, although nobody listened. The Jazz band didn't even stop playing.

Outside at the Valet station, Sellick and Danson stood with their wives and said there goodbyes, while hoping to get away quickly.

"Hey there you guys are!!" Says Guttenberg who seemed to appear out of nowhere and completely out of breath."So listen guys..(huff-huff) first of all if that waitress Sheila comes out here tell her I'm not here,...(huff-huff) that dude Kevin tending bar says he knows these stuardesses that'll party with us and they're WAY HOTTER!! But fuck it, I just wanted to say...NEXT YEAR....THE NEXT MOVIE."

Sellick cuts Guttenberg off

"Look Steve, I've been talking to Ted and I think we're in agreement. No more movies."

"What??!!"

"Yeah, look Tom's right. We had a good run Steve." Adds Danson as his ride pulls up. The Valet pulled up Sellicks car at the same time.

"It's the golden rule of Showbiz Steve. You gotta quit while your on top. Take care of yourself Steve. Hey Ted, gimme a call." Sellick adds and the 2 men drove away leaving Steve Guttenberg completely alone.

"Ted, what do you mean no more movies?" Guttenberg yelled out to the passing traffic that his co-stars were among as he stood utterly alone....



2008 Riverside California -

Tom Sellick enters the Ramada Inn's 70 seat video conference center and is greeted by Ted Danson.

"Hey Tom, you look GREAT. Congratulations buddy, WOW, the AFI. I was so happy when I heard they were honoring you."Danson says

"Hey thanks alot Ted, it's great to see you buddy.You know I kind of felt like a ham coming to something like this. I mean usually with the AFI you'd expect maybe a Pacino or a Spielberg but hey,what can I say. I guess I made some smart moves afterall."

"Aww don't sell yourself short Tom, you deserve it."

"Thanks Ted I appreciate it. I wonder why they chose Riverside?"

"Yeah. Yeah I was just wondering that myself. You know I don't mean to rain on your sunny day, but this isn't the most glamourous setup for an AFI event. No open bar- in fact I asked for a glass of Dom and they gave me a plastic cup of Carlo Rossi. I complained to the manager and the guys said shut your stink hole Becker that's Paisano...'the good stuff!!"

"You know what's odd. These people here, the guests...I don't recognize any of them. I mean sure there are some actors here, but nobody good. I mean theres that guy over there blocking the exits...wait. Didn't he play Tackleberry?"

The 2 men suddenly had an intense look on their face as they realized what was going on.

"GUTTENBERG!!" They both yelled while dropping their cups of Carlo Rossi Paisano on the floor and scattering in different directions.

Just then Steve Guttenberg entered from the door at the back of the stage with an 80's boom box on his shoulder blaring the song "Lets Hear it For the Boys". He pulled down the banner that read AFI HONORS TOM SELLICK to reveal another banner that read 3 Men and a Granddaughter.

When Guttenberg saw Danson and Sellick attempting to make a getaway he yelled out "STOP THEM"

Suddenly Kevin the bartender jumped from behind the bar and smacked Tom Sellick with a half empty jug of Carlo Rossi square in the temple, knocking him to the ground, while Wilford Brimley planted his fat ass on Sellicks back pinning him to the ground.

"You fuck with one Cocoon castmember you fuck with all of us...at least all the ones that are still alive that is." Wilford declared before farting on Sellick's back.

Danson made a bolt for the East exit, plowed through Tackleberry and suddenly found himself being chased through the Ramada's hallway by Guttenberg who was still carrying the Boom Box, the mixed tape now moving on to Hootie and the Blowfish's mid '90s hit "I only wanna be with you".

As Danson made his way into the lobby he was suddenly stunned by what appeared to be the sound of a UFO about to land in the lobby.

"What is that? A goddamn spaceship?"

But no, it was Michael Winslow the human sound effect machine doing a UFO impression from behind a plant in the lobby.

Danson was tackled and held down by Guttenberg.

"Get the fuck off me Guttenberg!!"Danson demanded

"I don't want to hurt you Ted. I just want to talk to you."

"Yeah well you can FORGET IT. I AINT MAKING A 3MEN AND a BABY MOVIE!! Damnit you do this to us every year!! And every year the idea's stink!!"

"Ted,Ted,Ted just listen. It's 2008, We havent' seen each other since 1994, we're all bachelors except Tom's character, and now it's Mary's college graduation, so we all have to meet up. We find out she's pregnant so we find the boyfriend and beat the shit out of him."

"Jesus Guttenberg, that's shit!! It doesn't even make sense." Danson pleads while still being held to the floor of the lobby.

"Yeah but it's edgey. Like P.S. Your Cat is Dead. I did that Indy and we can do this indy. But it'll be a SMASH Ted, it'll be a smash!!"

"Your fuckin crazy Guttenberg do you know that."

"Ted....Tedddy....Come on, let's make the movie Ted. People want it."

Suddenly Guttenberg caught Sellick's patten leather shoe to the back of the head, knocking him over. Sellick managed to break free when Wilford Brimley had fallen asleep while sitting on his back and was now out to rescue his former co-star.

He pulled Danson to his feet and made a break for the Ramada parking lot. This time the 2 men made no attempts at a goodbye, they simply drove off.

As Danson pulled out of the parking lot Guttenberg jumped on the hood of his Lexis.

"Ted just think about it." He yelled as Danson turned the wipers on. " It'll be a cross between Casablanca and P.S. Your Cat is Dead, I PROMISE YOU...WOOOOOAAAWW"

Guttenberg was laid out in the middle of the busy downtown Riverside streets. He picked himself up and dusted himself off while ignoring the honking horns of annoyed drivers as he watched Danson drive off in his Lexis.

Suddenly there was a hand on Guttenberg's shoulder. He turned to find Tackleberry standing next to him.


"We'll get 'em next time Steve. Next time."

5:49 AM 
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Thursday, November 27, 2008 

Hey Cousin, my you're getting big. Nephew? Who the hell? Hey Grandma. What's shaking you old bag? Can I get a swig of that Goldschlager? Sweet, you were always there for me gram. Ok, enough of this family shit. Hi everyone, hi to you, you too, you you little bastard. Just going to go back and check on the chickens. Boy it smells in here. I'll just seat myself between you two hens. Nice little hit before Turkey time. Wooof. BOWAAWAAWA! Rrrg. Shit. Hey what came first, the chicken or the egg?Hehehehe. What's that? Oh shit. Hey Mr. wolf. Hey Mr. Nice doggie. Ohh, no need to show those teeth. Want some meth? Hey, lemme shotgun it for you. Just stay still. There you go. Good dog now. Hey. Calm down wolf.  Oh don't get all upset now. Why's your fur doing that man? Are you some kind of alien? Don't jump, just gonna back up real slow outta the coop. All You can eact chicken is on Marty today. Two drink minimum? Heheheh.  It was just a joooooooooke. Ohhh! Help! Help! Marty is on the run.

Oh shit Bobby,close the door. There's a wolf chasing me. See him. He's eating the tire of Lucy's car. Don't know, he must be really upset or something. Probably teased him with all this food you guys been cooking up.

Grandma get the gun! Quick give me your necklace. Throwin it in the pan! It's sizzlin' silver! Marty the Silver chef!  I'm cooking it cuz I'm gonna make a silver bullet and shoot it through his heart! No, I won't calm down. A coyote? What the? I'm not freaking out. Fine, but as soon as dinner is ready yell downstairs and I'll come up. Yell loud too, cuz I'm gonna be playing Pac Man. Stupid family. Pac Man my ass. Pac man is packing it up with some ice biatchh! Woof, Wow!  Methamphetamine equals powerpelletine . HEhehe. Good hittin down here in the basement. What? Dinner's ready? I ain't hungry. I'll be up in a few. Wof! Woof! Ice is hitting on t-giving baby!

Oh, hey everyone, oh nothing, just looking at the washing machine down there. Oh you all saying some séance thing? I bet I can get the Turkey to levitate. Watch this….Dearly Beloved, Gobble Gobble, let the good lord  raise the bird up and make his head begin to Bobble! Heehehehe. Oh fine, you pissants ain't worth shit. I'll be watching football while you do that pilgrim shit. It ain't the year 1345 folks! Jesus. What's on the tube?  Hey Aunt Lucy, what's wrong with the reception? The antenna. I'll go fix it.  On the roof? Fuck that? How about some tackle football? When are you guys going to be done eating? Here I'll help you woof it down. Give me that spoon. Mmmm. Gooth math potathoes Titha. Heehehe. Manners? What manners? I'm eating with the spoon. Oh wait a sec…Something's about to come out of my ass. Ohoooo! Marty shit himself at the Thanksgiving table. Marty shit himself at the Thankgiving table!!! Fine. I'm outta here. Hey, nephew who can't speak too good, what size waist are you?

4:56 AM 
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Tuesday, November 18, 2008 
I was assigned security for a concert that I had been waiting for 15 years. I spent $500 on two tickets for front row and I had a limo reserved. It was going to be one of the best nights I had in a long while. Suzy was going to go with me and I knew I was DEFINITELY getting some that night. The music, the money,the pure ecstasy of seeing my favorite band. And it all went to hell.

F'ing Chuck got in a car wreck and broke his arm. Johnny went into rehab for 'roids. Next on the list to work-good ole me. So, I had to cancel everything, including my date. I was depressed, angry, mad at the world. But there was a bright side. I could still go to the show. I just had to work.

You see my occupation is in concert security, so I get to hear numerous acts, standing there with my back to them while I cart off drunk teenagers and middle aged men for playing grabass. It's alright. Pays good, keeps me in shape.

So, I had to go stand in front of my favorite band, but focus on the crowd at the same time. It would be a challenge to perform well and enjoy the music. So, I did some cognitive training. I went and watched tennis matches and kept score while talkin on my cell phone. I did pretty well. Then, I went to my gym and jumped on and off the treadmill while it was running while simutaneously changing the song on my ipod. I was getting good at this multitasking thing. So, the day before the show, I climbed up a 24 ft. ladder with a crystal bowl, threw it up in the air, climbed down the ladder, somersaulted and caught it. I am not sure if that helped me train at all, but it sure pumped me up.

When I got to Tropicana field , the place was empty. It was tough watching the crowd grow and grow knowing I could have been one of them, smashed, yelling at my date to quit looking at other guys.It made me understand how the security crew for Woodstock must have felt. But it's all good. When the opening band came off and the headliners, my heroes, were getting ready, my heart started racing. I felt like I was going to a high school dance for the first time. Just then, some idiot threw a beer at the stage, so I caught it in mid –air, jumped over the metal gate and popped him one. Or her one. It doesn't matter.I wasn't gonna be bothered with bullshit and I was making it extremely clear. I was there to listen first and conduct crowd control second.

When the group came on, the place roared. I glanced back a few times, but my boss, Old Man McKinley kept giving me dirty looks. By mid-set I was drenched with sweat.I was enjoying it, but needed more. Just one turn and look at my boys. I decided, screw it, if they play my favorite song, I am going up there on stage. At that exact moment, like divine intervention, I heard the opening words to Hangin' Tough. I turned and locked eyes with Donnie. It was on. I jumped on stage and started dancing with the one and only NKOTB.

I was DEFINITELY at a high point in my life, until what I thought were my friends and colleagues were yelling at me to get off the stage. I told them NO WAY!. So, they had the nerve to try and take me down, but it wasn't gonna happen. Not during Hangin' Tough.

Before I knew it my moment of glory was diminished as I now had to take on the most elite squad of concert security these United States have ever known. My boss, Old Man McKinley stood calmly behind the crew as he sent A squad to handle my downfall. He was cold,confident and calculating, but he also was forgetting...I trained the A squad.

3 came at me at once, 2 from the side with 1 from behind. I was so ready I didn't even have to stop my Hanging Tough dance. I just grabbed the 2 from the side while my arm was already waving from left to right and smacked their faces into each other. The 3rd guy thought he was slick sneaking up behind me, but I knew he'd be coming, and simply fused a triple spin with a sweep kick to the leg, and took the punk out without even missing a beat.

I looked to my right, and in all of the action it didn't even occur to me that I was standing next to little Joey-Joe McIntyre, who in my humble opinion was always the best dancer of the bunch. I realized I was probably stealing his thunder, so I turned and mouthed the words, "I'M SO SORRY JOEY-JOE"

That's when Old Man McKinley broke out the big guns. B-squad. These were all the fat Guido's who tried to pick up chicks by acting like they were connected. Sure they had the weight to throw around...but I had the moves!!

As the B-squad huffed up the stairs to the stage, I came flying stage left into a WICKED knee slide, hand delivering a swift punch to the balls to all 3 squad members before hopping back to my feet with all the grace of a young Lance Bass. I looked back to see if Donny was watching. Donny was always the bad-ass and I figured he'd be sending a nod my way after those moves, but he was too busy dancin'. I couldn't blame him though.

But my moment in the sun was about to turn into a cold burn as I saw McKinley giving the hand signals for the triple squad take down. (coincidently the hand signals were the same hand signals the Cincinatti Reds used for a bunt in 1976, but let's keep that on the DL).

Soon all available venue personnell were bum rushing the stage. Even Greg Stephens, the kid who works the nacho stand, was coming at me. And let me tell you, I've wanted to take a swing at that bastard ever since I found out he sold an eight ball to the road manager of Hootie and the Blowfish.

It turned into total chaos. Next thing I know, I was punching my best friend in the nose, sweep kicking the soundman, and powerbombing Old Man McKinley. I gave the fight of my life but soon they had me down, and a crew of 8 were now dragging me off the stage right in front of the New Kids. I was humiliated. It was as at that moment that a source of rage overpowered me as I looked up at Jon Knight (the George Harrison of the New Kids in MY book) and I let out a roaring "NOOOOOOOOO" while ripping my event staff t-shirt open Hulk Hogan style, revealing the NKOTB-4-LIFE tattoo that ran across my muscular chest.

As my face hit the same pavement that I threw so many drunken punks onto throughout the best years of my life, Old man McKinley made a point to step on my hand. I looked up at him as he warned me not to show my face around here again. Not even to collect the nights pay. He then flicked his cigar in my face and was escorted back inside by the A squad.

I dusted myself off and began leaning against the back of the building where the crowd of 32 year old single mothers flocked around the NKOTB tour bus. Inside I heard the muffled sounds of the last single of NKOTB's hey-day "Step by Step" starting up and as a single tear ran down my cheek I knew a major chapter in my life had come to an end.

I made my way downtown to grab a drink at Murphy's Lounge. The bouncer tried to tell me I wouldn't be allowed in without a shirt, but when he saw the look of loss on my face he changed his mind and told the bartender the first round was on him.

After last call I decided to walk back to my apartment. There were plenty of cabs around, but I needed time to think. As I walked down Broad street I heard someone yell, "Hey Tough-guy". I looked up and saw the NKOTB tour bus stopped at a red light. I couldn't believe it. Donnie had the window down and was yelling towards me. He actually recognized me.

"Nice moves man. Nice moves." He yelled. He took off his dew rag and through it my way and the bus began to drive off into the night.

I gripped the dew rag in my hand and raised my fist in the air with conviction as I shouted at the bus as it drove away from me forever...."NEW KIIIIIIIDDDSS!!!!"
2:40 AM 
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Monday, November 10, 2008 
By Angelo


It's been lonely here lately. The only interaction with people since I retired from GM is when my housekeeper comes over once a month.She only needs to clean my kitchen and living room, since I shut down the power to the bathroom, and the guest room's completely off limits because the treadmill already knows too much. I don't let her in my bedroom either. It's too personal for me. And I feel like I would be betraying my ex-wives if I let her in there and she touched my bed or something. So, she charges me $500 a cleaning for the 2 rooms. I figure it's not that bad. With the hassle of getting the cleaning supplies, gas, and just the inconvenience of it all, I'd say it's around the same amount. She got upset at me the other day because I left the toast in the toaster oven for a week and it got moldy. I put it in the toaster oven but then got distracted because I heard crashing outside and I looked through my blinds and it was the trash man who had dropped a bottle I put in the can. It was a bottle of Yoohoo that broke. So, I went outside and cleaned it up so no drivers would swerve to avoid driving over it, crash, and then sue me. So, when I went back in the house , I forgot to turn on the toaster oven. When she got upset with me, I tried to apologize. It didn't end up well. She seemed pretty upset. I like to keep my eye on her when she is there because she might take something or trip and get hurt. So, I stay in the living room while she cleans the kitchen and when she cleans the living room, I stay in the kitchen. But I always end up dirtying the room I am watching her from, so she has to clean it again. She got confused last time and I was in the kitchen when she had to clean the kitchen and I couldn't remember if she had cleaned it the third time or not, so I told her she could go home. She told me it wasn't worth her time and sanity to do this any more even if she gets more working for me than if she whores herself out. So, she left. I don't think she was prostituting in my house but now I am concerned. I always watched her the whole time, but what if there was a sting operation going on. Maybe they think we were having intimate relations in the kitchen or living room. So, in case she left any fingerprints, I hired a Mold Remediation crew to disinfect my kitchen and living room. They told me to leave for a few weeks to let the chemicals dissipate but I have nowhere to go. I have been in my bedroom for a few weeks now. Theres not much to do in here so I've been reading a Readers Digest I found under my bed over and over, and I've had to pee for 3 days. I tried leaving the bedroom to get some coffee but my eyes started burning and I had a rash on my face in less than 30 seconds. It's been a while since I been out of the house. But that's ok. It's just too bad my housekeeper don't come by no more.
8:56 AM 
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Monday, October 27, 2008 

In honor of the upcoming election, I'd like to take some questions from our listeners regarding some of the issues. Here we have 2 experts who are well-known and not affiliated with any party. First, we have The Devil. Known to many as Lucifer, the Devil has a degree from Duke University and has a long record, from attempting to assassinate the Pope and introducing reality shows to American television. Second, we have Gene Shallett. Gene is a world-reknown movie critic famous for his humorous reviews on early morning shows. Genetleman, good evening. Our first call is from Sandra in Nebraska. She asks, "How would unite the country and eliniate partisanship" Devil, I'll start with you.



"Thanks Bobby. Well, I think the key to unity in this country is cocaine. Now, I know what you are thinking. Oh, it's just the devil being the devil and whatever he says isn't true. Well that's BULLSHIT REEGER! Anyway, cocaine is the only thing that white, god fearing aristocrats and poor black people have in common. They all like it. One sells to the other. It's simple. This would in turn increase our participation in NAFTA and relations with Colombia an put additional pressure on the Socialist government of Venezuela led by Hugo Chavez, tax immigrants smuggling cocaine in the US, and increase productivity.

"Interesting."

Gene?

"Well, Apparently the Devil wears Prada, because the last time Cocaine did anything for us was Tommy Boy. Listen I'm all for Pumping Up the Volume in the West Wing, but when you start letting Drugstore Cowboys hang out Where the Buffalo Roam then you got Problem Child 2. I think the Short Circuit in this country is related to one Thing. That's ignoring the Buddy System. Sure, we have Irreconcilable Differences but if our Children of the Corn unite with our City Slickers then we can become friends. You might say we have Nothing in Common, however, Trading Places for one minute will make all our differences Gone in 60 seconds.

Another viewer asked how do we tackle terrorism while also building our economy. This is from Jake in California.

Devil, I"ll start with you.

"Gene, if it weren't for my love for the smell of popcorn, you'd be a goner. And that deal we made regarding your Fame, it's off! Terrorism is cool man. I haven't had this much fun since the medieval times. It's like and action movie for me. People Blowing up each other. What a rush. Makes me want to do what I talked about in my first answer. As for the economy. I don't go there. I can make people rich and poor but the economy is like a boring version of me making you bet your house on a roulette wheel. Actually, it's kind of inhumane, if you ask me. My style is quick. I make you a rock star, you become rich and famous. Next thing you're broke and doing covers of your own songs at Happy Hour at Chili's. So, I don't know. It's just kind of not my genre."

Gene?

"Well, terrorism is a tricky thing. We have our Delta Forces infiltrating Behind Enemy Lines. It's the terrain, mountinaous. These Hills have Eyes I tell you. And when we engage the Village, sometimes these foreigners are Unfaithful. When W. said Bring It On. He meant every word of it. Those terrorists were Running Scared in Every Which Way But Loose. They have Nowhere to Run and No Way Out. So, our Warriors must be the Brave One and your average Joe Dirt and Private Benjamin have to get Bustin' Loose. Cause if they don't use their wits, they'll be Better Off Dead What we need is for these Leatherheads to come home to the American dream. For a Universal Soldier that was Born in East L.A., to come home to a job at DC Cab or even become a Mr. Mom watching the House and Kids while their wife is working at Mystic Pizza from 9 to 5 is the Best of the Best."

Mike from Brownsville Texas asks our commentators, 'controlling the borders is not only an issue of national security, but it also poses as a drain on our economy. What would you do to help secure our Borders.' I would actually like to let Mr. Shallett give the first response. Gene...

"When The Mexican feels a little Footloose and decides that Coming to America will be A Walk to Remember, make no mistake, these people ain't Searching for Bobby Fisher, they're after Easy Money. Problem is it's rightfully Other Peoples Money. And it won't take long before these Wonderboys starting getting a little Stir Crazy and start looking for some Hanky Panky. Soon enough your daughter's KNOCKED UP, and you find yourself GOING APES. But when the government's attempt to deport these Aliens turns into a Failure to Launch, good Americans like You, Me, and Dupree start feeling like Tough Guys and agree it's time to go Commando. So much so that we start spend so much time committed to the cause that we're practically Married To The Mob. So you tell these Ruthless People I think it's time for you to be Leaving Las Vegas, but they say Not Without My Daughter and now your locked in a real Catch 22. It's Risky Business for sure, but as Americans We gotta let these Meatballs know...they're the Outsiders.

Devil, would you like to respond? Devil?

"It looks like the Devil is in some type of Coma. I'd say this debate was a Victory for Shallet. I can't answer any more questions anyway. I left my daughter Home Alone. I have to make a call but my Cell is not working. I can't call from the Phone Booth down there because there are Men At Work making too much noise. So, I'll have to get a Taxi and probably am going to get stuck in Rush Hour. So, thank you for your time. I have to Go."

"There you have it. We'll see you next in the next round with Shallet vs. the next contender. Don't forget to vote on November 4th."

7:59 PM 
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Saturday, October 18, 2008 
An Expose on the latest threat to the youth of America
 
by Gordon T. Appollo
 
Meet George and Pauline Faulkner. They are a typical couple in these modern times...George a forklift operator at a local automobile plant while Pauline makes a fine homemaker.
 
They sit in the parlor of their modest house in the suburban outskirts of Detroit, holding a picture of their oldest son Lenny.
 
Like so many parents in 1967, George and Pauline have not seen their oldest Son in quite some time. They stay awake late into the night worrying about his where abouts and general wellbeing;George punching doors while Pauline clutches her Rosary Beads.
 
The reason for all this worry? Well let's just say that he's not honorably fighting off the Communist Reds in Vietnam. No, like many of our nations troubled youth, Lenny grew his hair long like a girl and started listening to Rock groups like Strawberry Alarm Clock and the Dave Clark Five.Not long after that, Lenny ran off to San Francisco, seeking to sabotage the American way of life.
 
And George and Pauline are not alone in their distress...
 
The numbers of teenagers who have deserted their families to join the hippy counterculture in the last year have been staggering. It has been estimated that by 1971, 87% of American's between the ages of 14 to 29 will be living on the streets of San Francisco. And once they get there, they will be introduced to a life of excessive indulgance in Pyschadelic drugs, such as Morning Glory Seeds, Magic Mushrooms, and the dreaded LSD 25.
 
And as if that isn't a terrifying notion enough, there is a new threat facing the estimated 2 million teenagers that have fled to the Height Ashbury disctrict of San Francisco. And this new threat has locked it's sights on the jugular of the "love generation".
 
Since 1622 Count Vladimir the XIV has lived an almost urban legend like existince of an Eastern European vampire. Today,he goes by the name Count Groovula, and he spends his nights lurking the streets of the Height Ashbury disctrict searching for victims. Specifically young runaway's trying to break in to the hippy scene.
 
I recently sat down with both George and Pauline, as well as Count Groovula for an exclusive interview. I feel it is my duty to warn you, this interview will terrify you to your very CORE!
 
"George, Pauline...let me thank you for letting me into your home, and may I extend my deepest sympathy.It must be very hard for you to face your neighbors."
 
"Thank you Sir." Replied George
 
"Now, I must warn you I will be introducing you to Count Groovula in just a few minutes, but first... tell me about Lenny."
 
"Well Lenny always was a good boy, and we hope he's alright.Lenny if your reading this we love you, please just come home." Pauline stated before her husband interrupted.
 
"He's a GODDAMN BUM!!
 
"What's that now?" I asked
 
"You heard me!...LENNY! He's A NO GOOD BUM!!And when he comes home with his tail between his legs he's gonna get the BELT SO HARD THAT HE'S GONNA..."
  
"GEORGE!! Please this is going to be in Life Magazine." Pauline pleaded
 
"I'm sorry Honey. It's just that I get so GODDD-DAMMMN FRUSTRATED!!!IF YOU'RE READING THIS LENNY, I KNOW YOU'RE ON THE POT!!"George then stood and paced back and forth,rubbing his hands through his receeding hairline."Jesus Christ, I knew letting him watch that fuckin Ed Sullivan Show was a bad idea...I OUGHTTA KICK ED SULLIVAN's ASS YOU KNOW!! I REALLY OUGHTA JUST KICK SULLIVAN'S..."
 
"GEORGE PLEASE THAT'S ENOUGH!!" His wife insisted.
 
After a brief moment to let George cool down I sent my assistant Johnny to get Count Groovula who had been patiently waiting in the Faulkners garage.
 
The count made his way into the parlor; his presence nothing short of horrifying.
 
He still wears his traditional 17th century suit,which he has now completely tie-dyed with a bright purple cape. He flashes his fangs and a peace sign at the time...truly terrifying.
 
"Count Vladimir"I started

"My name is COUNT GROOVULA"
 
"OK, Count Groovula it is then. How long have you been living in San Francisco?"
 
"Since 19 hundred and 65. Right after I started listening to those DAMN ROLLING STONES the kids like so much."
 
"I'm sorry, but Count, you look so familiar. Where do I know you from?" Pauline interrupted.
 
"You don't know me. You DEFINITELY DON'T KNOW ME" He replied
 
"Tell us Count Groovula, what is it like being a vampire in San Francisco?" I asked.
 
"Are you kidding me Buster? San Francisco is really the cat's Meow."
 
"UMMM don't you mean it's Far Out COUNT GROOVULA?!?!"
 
"Right...Right on. San Francisco is Far Out."
 
"And just what is so "FAR OUT" about San Francisco."
 
"Look it's real easy for a fella like me out there. I see one of those damn long hairs, I bite his neck and then I'm high on LSD all night. What's not far out about that?"
 
"I'll tell you what's not "FAR OUT" about that! You got these mixed up kids who are out wandering around these San Francisco flop house's, and before they're even able to come to their sense's they're murdered by Vampires in some dark alley."
 
"Well hey, I don't always kill them. Some of them just turn into vampires too."
 
"So you're not the only hippy vampire out there?"
 
"Oh no. Not anymore. I was at first. And then I bit this one young fella's neck who was on Acid, and it got ME stoned too. I spent the whole night grooving out to Strawberry Alarm Clock and the Dave Clark Five. The next day I realized that I had stumbled upon LSD, and all it takes is one trip to get addicted."
 
"If you had to guess, Count Groovula, just how many hippy vampires are now living in San Francisco?"
 
"Oh...I don't know. I guess about 60,000 or so."
 
"That is a truly terrifying thought."
 
"Of course it is. To a SQUARE like YOU!!"
 
"I GOT IT, St. Theresa's right!! You're the man that used to sit near the back and try to sneak out early" Pauline interrupted
 
"Look, Lady I told you don't know me now quit yer pesterin'." Replied Groovula
 
"Getting back to the interview"I continued" Recent rumors have circulated at an attempt to discredit tales of kids under the influence of an acid trip jumping off of buildings because they thought they could fly. Have YOU ever jumped from a building thinking you could fly due to a bad LSD trip?"
 
"OH YEAH,All the time!! but I just turn into a bat. But I've seen lots of kids jump off of buildings while they were on....hey listen. I aint had a bite all day, I see you got some powdered doughnuts on the counter. Would you mind if i just grab one Mrs. Faulkner? Is that alright with you Appollo, lets take 5 huh?"
 
"UMM NO COUNT GROOVULA, VAMPIRES ONLY DRINK BLOOD REMEMBER?!?!" I reminded Groovula
 
"Hey Fuck you Buster, I'm taking five for a doughnut and a smoke.You got any beers in there George?"
 
"OH MY GOD YOU'RE WALTER MATHAU!! That's how I know you. Can you believe it George, Walter Matthau is in our home."
 
"Well Holy Smoke, it IS Walter Matthau!! Wait'll I tell the guys at the plant."
 
"I'm NOT WALTER MATTHAU, I'M COUNT GROOVULA."
 
"Yes that's right, this is the dreaded Count Groovula, the latest terror to our nations youth." I added
 
"We just LOVED you in 'A Guide For the Married Man'."Pauline added
 
"OH YEAH THAT WAS A REAL HOOT!!Great job Matthau"
 
"Look for the last time my name is COUNT GROOVULA I'm a hippy vampire from San Francisco, NOT WALTER MATTHAU."
 
"Pauline get the camera let's get a picture with Matthau. Boy is your old man gonna be jealous."
 
"It's true, my father is such a fan of your work."
 
I attempted to regain control of the interview
 
"Look lets settle down and get back to the interview with Count Groovula, please Pauline, just put the camera away, the man's a vampire he doesn't show up on film."
 
"Oh to hell with it. Johnny take me to the Bus Stop." Groovula stated as he walked out without saying goodbye.
 
I now fear the worse, as Groovula has evaded my original plans to set him up to be arrested and is on his way back to San Francisco where the crime rate is so high, there is virtually no way of apprehending a murderer.
 
So to the parents of American teenagers I'll just say this; I urge you to stop your kids from joining the hippy counterculture. If not for the sake of their own lives, for the sake of the country. After all, there are now an estimated 60,000 vampires living in the U.S. all thanks to those DAMN LONGHAIRS.
3:18 AM 
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Friday, October 03, 2008 
David Thorne was an MIT student doing an internship at the Northeastern Nuclear Power Research Center during the great radiation leak of 1988. While the alarms blared, and the facility was evacuated, young David sat through the entire incident, unaware of the catastrophy he was enduring. He never heard the alarms because he had his walkman on full volume; a mixed tape of Huey Lewis and the News kept him distracted. By the time he made it out of the toxic site he was devoured by radio-active molecules which had permanently fused his DNA with the now SUPER-CHARGED walkman; the batteries of which would NEVER DIE.

David survived the incident and went on to become a world renown scientist, despite the fact that the incident had left him with his walkman permanently fused into his writing hand.The Huey Lewis mix tape blares through the headphones he can never remove from his ears to this very day.Brilliant, resilliant, radioactive. David Thorne IS......Nuclear Walkman-Man!!!

We join our hero at a commencement ceremony welcoming him to his new job as a librarian at the East Greenwich Public Library in East Greenwich Rhode Island.
Governor Don Carcieri puts on a shit eating grin and takes the podium as onlookers including the class of 2010 at the East Greenwich middle school look on...

"Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls, and all-round friends of the Library, It is with my deepest honor today to welcome the world renowned nuclear physicist David Thorne into our community as an ambassador to our educational and cultural resources and development."

As the crowd burst into applause, 13 year old Charlie Majors stands with his best friend Dyllan Johnson and begin joking around as they try to kill the boredom of this field trip to their town library.

"Dude I dare you to call the Governor a douchebag." says Charlie

"No way, I'll totally get busted. You do it. You haven't had inhouse all month."

"Give me a buck and I'll do it."

"Deal"

"And as proud governor of the Ocean State I made sure those workers lost their pensions, which are now paying for such things as snacks to be served at today's event..."

"DOUCHEBAG"

The Governors shit eating grin grew twice as large as he gave a thumbs up to the crowd.

"Let's cut to the chase and welcome the REAL man of honor here today, Please welcome, YOUR NEW LIBRARIAN, Proffessor David Thorne"

The crowd burst into applause as this prestigous member of the scientific community was welcomed into their local community. As David came out waving his walkman hand "hello" to the audience, the applause grew to an awkward silence. Governor Carcieri reached out to shake David's hand and was met in return with his walkman, which he shook while pretending to get an electric shock from. The shit eating grin came back for this sure-fire photo-op, and the crowd grew completely silent from their own shock and braced themselves for Davids acceptace speech.

David made his way to the podium but tried to gauge where to stand, slightly self conscious of the fact that the noise of the walkman would not only blare over the speakers, but also aware of his own habit of constantly yelling over his Walkman. He found his spot and dove right in.

"THANK YOU EAST GREENWICH, IT'S REALLY GREAT TO BE HERE, GREAT TO BE A LIBRARIAN, GREAT TO BE YOUR LIBRARIAN I SHOULD SAY"

-IT'S HIP TO BE SQARE....HIP TO BE SQUAARE

Governor Carcieri quickly cuts in to his space to wrap up the ceremony.

"And the State of Rhode Island thanks you David. Now let's go enjoy the library everyone. HECK, I might even rent a DVD - HA,HA,HA" - the shit eating grin was larger then ever as he attempted to cut the awkward tension of the now bewildered crowd."Lets get the hell out of here" he then whispered to his assistant and was quickly driven away in the back of a Limo.

Inside the library David took his post behind the main desk. He folded his arms to make his presence known - he would be a no nonsense Librarian.

The Middle School kids as well as the adults browsed for books and as he came near they buried their face in the first book in front of him, all but two people did that...Charlie and Dyllan.

David made his way to the 2 class clowns who were sitting at a table sending obscene text messages to their female classmates and laughing, disturbing the other readers.

"HEY THIS IS A LIBRARY THERES NO CLOWNING AROUND IN HERE. PEOPLE ARE HERE TO READ AND YOUR DISTURBING THEM, SO KEEP IT DOWN."

-Where else can you do a half a million things, all at a quarter to three

"I'm sorry I can't hear you buddy you want to turn that IPOD down"

"IPOD!! WHAT THE...IPOD!!! YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKERS!!"

"Hey, Hey, that's enough." chimed in Ms. Williams, the boys Science teacher and field trip chaperone.

"WELL THEY STARTED IT."

"I don't care WHO started you don't talk to my students like that."

"WHAT DO YOU JUST LET THEM RUN BUTT FUCKER WILD OR SOMETHING? I MEAN WHAT KIND OF TEACHER ARE YOU ANYWAYS LADY? YOU KNOW BACK AT MIT WHEN I WAS A PROFFESSOR SOME FUCKING JACKASS MADE A FACE AT ME, YOU KNOW MAKING FUN OF ME, MAKING FUN OF HUEY LEWIS,I DON'T KNOW, MAKING FUN OF SOMETHING, AND I STALKED HIM FOR A MONTH UNTIL I FOUND HIM AT A BAR IN CAMBRIDGE AND I SLASHED THE TIRES ON HIS WHELLCHAIR"

-Don't take money, don't take fame, don't take no credit card to ride on this train...

"Ohh myyy Goddd, you are a lunatic Mister and I'm gonna petition to have you fired from this library."

"HA! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT! YOU CAN'T FIRE ME I GOT CARCIERI IN MY BACK POCKET COMPLETELY PAYING HIM OFF HAVE BEEN EVER SINCE I MET HIM WHEN WE GAVE THE GRADUATION SPEECH FOR BROWN UNIVERSITY IN 2004! I OWN CARCIERI. HE'S MY BITCH, AND NOW YOU KNOW BUT WHO WILL EVER BELIEVE YOU!!!"

It was then that David remembered he was yelling over a walkman in front of a room full of witnesses and the entire library grew completely silent...

-Yes it's truuuueee
- I'm So Happy to be Stuck With You...
3:15 AM 
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