I bought a condo in the wonderful city of St. Louis about a year and a half ago.  I am a fan of the Cardinals, Toasted Ravioli and The Arch so it was a natural choice.  It was a huge deal for me to buy my first home. I got a loan that was called a “stated income loan” or as it’s referred to now “the economy ruiner.” The stated income loan is exactly what it sounds like, they said you have to make X amount of dollars to buy this house and all I had to do was “state” that I could do that no proof necessary. Looking back on how easy it was I think they would have given me the loan if I stated that I would try really hard to make that amount of money, or stated that I like to make money or probably if I could have just named a state.

Just so you know it’s a fixed rate loan and I am not being foreclosed on, so don’t hate me. I really like being a homeowner; it makes me feel like a grown man, that and passing gas while I’m asleep on a bench at the mall. Unfortunately in the past month I have let my place get too dirty. Somewhere between “getting ready for a yard sale” dirty and “is this a crime scene?” dirty. I usually have a cleaning lady come in once every couple weeks. That is good for two reasons: one, she cleans my house and two, I do a nice pre-clean before she comes that way she doesn’t tell all of her cleaning lady friends that I keep my dirty underwear on my kitchen floor. That is where my laundry closet is and sometimes it’s very hot in the kitchen. On a side note I was anxious to see if she was going to be hot. But I think that’s true in any situation that involves someone coming to my house, pizza delivery, ups, escort service you name it I want them to be a hot chick.

The cleaning lady situation isn’t perfect because I don’t trust a lot of people in my life. I think it comes from my family not trusting people. When I was a kid my dad would always follow the words “your uncle is coming over” with “lock your bedroom door.” Not lying. So naturally when a stranger comes over I think she is stealing from me. The first time I decided I would stay at home just to keep an eye on her. But then it just seemed awkward.  She’s cleaning and I’m sitting there not only as an able bodied person who owns all of the cleaning supplies needed to do the job but an able bodied person with the time to use them. Not to mention when she bent over to pick something up I used her for a footstool for half and hour.
 The second time I left and sat at a coffee shop while thinking of how I’m going to go home to the cleanest empty apartment ever. After a few more times I got wise and took pictures of all of my stuff including my DVD’s, CD’s and my television. I’m not quite sure why I took the picture of the TV. Like I would come home stare at a vacant 52 inches in front of my couch then look at the camera and look at the wall then back to the camera, back to the wall before I realize something’s not right. Everything came back normal according to the photos but I’m positive at some point one of the lady took some DVD’s. I am definitely missing a good amount enough that is should be on the bill, $34 and hour plus miscellaneous DVD’s. When I get home I am going to do the nice pre-clean and get ole’ sticky fingers back over to clean the place up.

This wasn’t even supposed mention how I bought my condo I just wanted to get that off my chest. Every time the news is talking about the mortgage crisis and how it’s the irresponsible people and lenders who caused this I feel like they are talking to me. It seems like that is the goal of the news. They want you to feel sad, scared or guilty, never happy. When I watch I feel guilty for causing the recession and getting that poor woman pregnant with my eight babies.

AMENDMENT: I should trust people more. I think that would make it easier to catch them stealing. You’re all thieves.

www.tommyjcomedy.com

I went skiing last week. I think. I went kind of in a round about way, skiing. I went skiing in St Louis and if you know the area you know that we didn’t get snow this year, nor did we get mountains. (this was written two days before out winter storm. So yes I know they got snow) So I don’t feel comfortable saying I went skiing and getting in an awkward conversation with someone who actually skis. I don’t want to be the guy who went indoor skydiving but leaves the “indoor” part of it out. Just telling people “hey I went skydiving last night.” They respond with “really that’s great. What altitude did you jump from?” Then I say, “do you mean like what exit?”
In St Louis we have hills and machines that make fake snow. To be honest I was really excited about going because I have never been skiing fake or real. Plus every time I try something new I think it’s going to be the one thing I’m a natural at.  I assume I should be a natural at something I just have to find it. I know it isn’t fighting, spelling or showing restraint around cookies. As we’re driving to the ski* mountain* I am envisioning myself being the guy that everyone at the lodge is talking about. “Hey did you see that guy with the brand new ski pants and gloves with way too many layers of clothes on? He is the best skier I’ve ever seen.” A woman at the bar turns around and replies “Seen Him? He saved my baby: right after he delivered it on one ski.” 

My fiancé and I stand in line debating on what to say when we get to the front. We don’t know if there is ski code or if we just say, “make it a double.” They give us our ski* or lift passes I don’t know what they’re called I just know that I can’t figure out how to put it on. That is when they should have asked me to leave. If you’re taking your drivers test and you just sit on the hood of the car mimicking a steering wheel in your hands and acting like you’re honking the horn I don’t think they let you finish the test.
Ski* tag on and I’m ready to get my skis. After getting my rental skis, which I assume, are the equivalent to the brown skates you rent from the skating rink as a kid or unpopular high school student I’m ready to go. I put my skis on and almost immediately take them off because as I’m standing still and slowly moving at the same time.

Of course I start out with the baby slope but then my friends tell me I should go try the big hill. I’m very susceptible to peer pressure especially when it’s from my peers. I get down to the ski lift, which was a victory in my book. Then fall getting onto the ski lift, which was a draw in my book (I have a unique way of scoring).  As I am lying on the ground and my friends are dangling in the air half way up the hill I think we all silently concluded that I am not a natural.

I make it down one of the big hills with several impressive falls. After the first few falls I was just happy nothing was broken including bones and glasses. Then after a while I started noticing little details about falling. 1) An inexperienced skier can fall so fast and unexpectedly it will cause the best skiers to fall trying to avoid them. 2) Snot feels exactly like blood if you hit your face several times. 3) If you’re not comfortable with people seeing your ass it doesn’t help if it’s packed with snow.

I get to the top of the second hill with all my friends minus my fiancé who is smart enough to stay at the bottom. Unlike me who thinks “I’ve never done this before I bet the expert hill would be great.” I don’t even play videos games on expert. All my friends go down the big hill and I’m right behind them…for the first 8 feet then I crash and one of my skis fly off. Trying to stand up in something that is designed to slide down the surface I’m attempting to stand on is very difficult for me. My friends make two passes down the hill while I was stranded at the top for over thirty minutes. I thought I was going to die up there or I would have to wait for fake summer to come and melt the fake snow. I make it down cold and in pain and decided the reason I wasn’t a natural was because it was fake snow, and it was at night and I didn’t have the right skis. This isn’t over hidden valley ski resort, there will be a round two.

AMENDMENT: I should have asked if anyone knew where there was a fake ocean so we could go fake deep sea diving. I’ve always wanted to do that.

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Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back intime and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. itwould be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisionsI made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case thatpower becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week andlist the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is onefrom last week.

Hey everyone this is my first blog in a few months and I just remembered I was supposed to find something from last week...I didn't. It sucks when you can't follow your own rules that you made up.

Don't forget to watch my special on Comedy Central January 30th 10p.m. EST 9p.m. CST

Christmas has come and gone and for the one thousand nine hundred and seventy fifth time in a row Jesus didn’t show up for the party. I think Jesus is kind of a “don’t make a big deal about this, it’s just a birthday” type of guy.  I think I read once that the Christmas tradition started when a Jesus told his friend he wanted a small party, just some friends and family. Next thing you know the entire world hears about it, probably on MySpace or whatever they had back then. Jesus gets upset and says he’s never coming to another party again. 

Personally I don’t like big parties either so I guess that’s yet another thing Jesus and I have in common. I remember for my 17th birthday my parents and friends threw a surprise party for me and I was actually upset, not at the surprise but at all of the lies leading up to the surprise. People have good intentions with surprise parties but they don’t think of the person they are surprising. To keep me out of the house my friend had me help clean his garage. They always distract you in an awful way. It’s never “hey why don’t we go to a water park” or “let’s watch Godfather I and II” or “if you stand on my shoulders you can watch my sister undress.” It’s always something that sucks “will you come over and help me build a pyramid?”  So to justify a two-hour party they had me doing manual labor for 6 hours. That is a good way of getting around child labor laws. Have the kids make clothes and soccer balls for the week then on Saturday throw one of them a party. A small party, no games or cake we don’t need production suffering, we are in a recession.

After cleaning the garage I wanted to go home and take a shower but they said the water was turned off. Now I’m tired, dirty and I’ll have to use all my birthday money to help my parents get the water turned back on.  Actually I knew what was going on and I was pretty mad about it at this point.  They are ruining my birthday. It’s now become memorable the same way your first dog became memorable after you saw it get hit by a car. I’m done playing along. At first it was fun now, it’s kidnapping and I want to go home.  It honestly was kidnapping I wouldn’t have been caught off guard if my friend said “we’re throwing a surprise party” or “hold up today’s newspaper so I can take a picture.”

Finally my friend says we’re done cleaning the garage and he’s going to take me home. By now I’m officially peed off. I’ve already made up my mind that I hate this party and everyone involved. The real surprise will come when I put out the candles with my balls. Horrible idea made worse by trick candles.  We pull up, I’m un-showered covered with all the dust and dirt from his garage that’s never been cleaned. We open the door and everyone yells “surprise.”  I’m not surprised nor am I happy. I actually ended up having a good time before the night was over and appreciated the thought they put into the party. Although I made it all the way to the gift portion of the party before I even fake a smile.  Afterwards I was actually upset that I didn’t show more gratitude and happiness right as I walked in the door. So not only do these pricks not let me shower and make me clean out a garage but they also make me feel bad for not being happier that they ruined my day.

Amendment: I would have burned down my friend’s garage so there was a real mess to clean up. Or I would have just showered at his place and watched TV; I still don’t know why that never came up.


www.tommyjcomedy.com

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.

1)I bought a Harley-Davidson motorcycle off of the internet last week. That may sound stupid to some people but I didn't buy it off of some idiot on ebay, this guy was an ebay power seller with 100% feedback. I like the feedback system. I just don't like it when people put negative feedback and don't explain why. It would be like if I were selling a car and every time someone looked at it a person drove by screaming "Tommy sucks" with no explanation. On the other side sometimes people assume it's a good person if they have one hundred percent feedback. I told a friend about the motorcycle and the first thing he asked was "what's his feedback?" I told him it was perfect and he said "well that's not easy he must be a good guy I'd trust him." He's a good guy? How do we know? What if he has had his daughter locked in a cellar for 24 years but is really honest and punctual with his ebaying? If that were true I would say he is not a good guy. I would still buy from him I can't tell someone how to raise their children.

Anyway I bought a motorcycle from a mystery internet man on ebay. What could go wrong? A lot could go wrong, but nothing did. I was actually expecting the worst. I thought it would be a toy Harley-Davidson or a framed picture of a Harley-Davidson or just a picture of a guy named Harley-Davidson counting my money. The only problem I had was the same problem I have every time I buy something on ebay and that is taking it personal when someone outbids me. I typed in my bid minutes before the auction was over and began my victory dance. My victory dance is a combination of an old Indian victory dance that was performed after they had defeated another tribe and the electric slide. Then out of nowhere some snake outbids me. I don't know who he thinks he's dealing with but that ain't happening. We go back and forth for a bit but I won the motorcycle and paid almost six hundred dollars over my self-imposed ceiling. Now instead of a really good deal I got an okay deal and the feeling of victory over some person who is probably in a hotel room bidding in his underwear…too.

I found out buying the Harley wasn't the only purchase. I have to buy Harley clothes (which are expensive) to get the full riding experience. Having the cool clothes is good and bad. On the bike I can look like a tough guy on a hog with a leather jacket. Off the bike I look like the idiot in Wal-Mart wearing a leather coat in May.


AMENDMENT: I would have bought a foreign bike because clothes are cheaper when made in a sweat shop in Taiwan.

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. It would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available i've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.

1)If you look at my schedule on www.tommyjcomedy.com you will notice I have done a lot of college shows since January of this year. This past week was no different, I did four colleges in Central Arkansas. The problem was I had Thursday off with nothing to do. My hotel was right behind a Wal-Mart and next to a Starbucks. Which I think is the eventual description of this country. "Hey have you been to America?" "I thinks so, is it the one right behind a Wal-Mart next to a Starbucks?" Wal-Mart started in Arkansas and they don't let you forget by having one off of every single exit. Personally I think they are all connected with an intricate tunnel system. So when you ask for something they don't have they signal the "tunnel people" which are made up of out of work circus freaks, disgruntled ex-target employees, and two mormon missionaries and they go get it from another store.

I decided that I didn't want to spend my night off in a hotel room or Wal-Mart. I remembered a few weeks ago I was at the University of Central Arkansas and they offered me tickets to a concert at their school on my night off. It was a Chris Cagle concert. Yes he is country and yes I love him, so get over it. I arrive on campus and realize I have no clue where the concert is. I spot two very, very large guys in cut off shirts and cowboy hats so I decide to follow them. Luckily they were going to the concert. That story could've ended with me locked in a cellar for a few years or paying a twenty-dollar cover charge at a gay bar.

I actually get to the door before I realize I am seeing a concert by myself. Most people would have a problem with this, I don't. My only problem is wondering why I don't have a problem with it and normal people do. Am I some kind of freak but on a smaller level? Could I be at Ripley's Believe It Or Not? But instead of showing me getting my testicals pierced or putting a snake in my butt and pulling it through my nose it would just show me watching a concert by myself and enjoying it. I did enjoy the concert. I realized I express how I like things differently than a lot of people. I sat down the whole time bobbed my head, tapped my foot every so often and enjoyed every minute. Some people would look at me and say I didn't have a good time because people around me were jumping up and down, singing and making out with each other. If I sat down at a coffee shop smiled bobbed my head and tapped my feet people would think I was having a good time, it just so happens I don't really get above that level. People would think I was a dick if I did the exact same thing at a funeral though.

It is always great to watch live entertainment of any kind. I am a live performer but I was amazed by watching Chris Cagle and how he whipped his fans into a frenzy. As a comedian at best I can get is a long standing-ovation at the end of my show. People stood up for him the entire time. I saw those same two big cowboys I followed in standing out on the floor with their arms around each other, their cowboy hats stretched to the sky just looking into each others eyes singing every word of every song. I thought I will never get that reaction out of two guys at my show…hopefully. That would be freaking weird.

AMENDMENT: After the concert was over I would've stood up and clapped until the final piece of equipment was taking out and security had to remove me from the building. So people would know I had a good time.

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.

1) I went to a tanning salon last week. I know it isn't manly to tan but I'm not a manly guy. If listed all the non-manly things I did I would be required by state law to sit down while I pee. I just want a little color for something's I have coming up this summer. I'm pretty pale, I have to complexion of someone who works underground or was in a short coma. All the girls working are pretty and tan; I'm un-showered, pale wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt on. It looked like we were casting the next high school hit movie where these girls have to turn me into prom king or there family is murdered. Nice twist at the end, huh?

I have to fill out a sheet about my skin or they won't let me tan. It took forever; it was two pages long. I got a 32 and didn't even study. My score puts me as "fair skinned." Which seems like she could've just look at me instead of creating a multiple-choice quiz. I said I haven't been in a tanning bed in a long time and I really haven't been in the sun much since the accident. There was no accident but I thought it was a funny thing to say.

She sets me up for six minutes in the novice bed. I asked if I needed goggles she said "do you want to go color blind?" Which either meant yes or she was trying to up sell me into the "ultra tanner color blinder bed." She walks me into the room where the bed is and gives some instructions, showed me the radio and fan then told me I had four minutes to get my clothes off. After finding out the four minutes started after she left the room I was ready. I stripped down put a sock over my privates and started tanning. The sock doesn't protect my privates that is just where I keep them so they don't get lost or dirty. I start getting hot at about three and a half minutes but I complete the full six.

Over the next couple days I realized I got pretty burnt. I pulled my shirt up and realized my arms had been at my side so I had a pink belly and white sides. Other parts of my body were like this too but my gut was the worst. It was as if I took a pink highlighter and marked the places on my body that I need to tone up. It didn't make me feel good to realize that when I lie down my stomach is the part of my body closest to the sun.


AMENDMENT: I would've filled out the paper work outside and got a natural tan, and I wouldn't have worn the goggles because if I am color blind I can't see how white I am.


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Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.

Last week I got stuck in the same tornado producing storm two nights in a row. I was in Texas when I got hit the first time. The wind was blowing up to seventy miles per hour. It was blowing so hard that the rain was not only going sideways, at some points the rain would actually go up. Now that requires an entirely new umbrella. I was sitting in my room when either the tornado siren started going off or the Japs were bombing the Holiday Inn Express in San Angelo Texas. I ran outside to the parking lot to see the storm up close. I quickly realized there was a lot of lightning and I was the tallest thing in the parking lot. I ducked down, put my hands over my head and ran for cover. Everyone knows if you put your hands over your head lightening cannot strike you.

I was outside when the storm got so bad I was starting to get afraid. The only thing that kept me sane was the "it never happens to me" attitude. That was quickly ripped away as storm chasers pulled into my hotel parking lot. People who try to get as close to tornados as possible are now standing right next to me; a guy who wants to be really far away from tornados. I would love to see a tornado, just not from the inside. It started to hail and the wind was blowing at seventy miles per hour, which made it seem like someone was throwing chunks of ice at your face.

Luckily the storm wasn't going to last that much longer and I was flying to Iowa first thing in the morning. Apparently I was on the same flight as the storm. I decided to go to my room and turn on the weather to see when it will be over the weather guy showed the path of the storm and apparently it is a big Tommy Johnagin fan. When you put your schedule on the internet you never know who'll show up, hot chicks, weird guys, tornados. So the next day I'm held up in a mall while the same crap is happening outside. The night before I missed being in a tornado by a few miles, so I know I don't want to be driving around. While I was in the mall a guy turns to me and says "have you seen anything like this before?" "As a matter of fact I have." I told him I was in the same storm the night before. He said "you should leave and take this storm with you" without breaking a smile. I kind of thought he was serious, like I am some kind of God of weather. Or a sad guy on cartoons that has a rain cloud following him around all day.

Unfortunately I had to drive two hours in the storm after my show to get to my hotel near the airport. On the drive the wind was so bad people were pulling off the road the radio said numerous trucks had been blown over. Everyone knows it's easy to blow a trucker hard to blow a truck.(stupid joke but I couldn't resist.) It got so bad I had go to a gas station for cover and I needed to write my political opinions on a bathroom stall door. The sign said open but the door was locked. It's like a chick that wears a skirt with no panties but says she won't sleep with you. And unfortunately the gas station doesn't have a drink I can slip something in to change its mind. Someone came to the door and I asked if they were open. She said "kind of." Wow. That has to be the least profitable gas station ever. Come on down to Chuck's Pump and Go we're kind of open, we might have gas, and maybe you'll get hepatitis. I made it back to my hotel with out seeing or being in a tornado, not a bad night.

AMENDMENT: I regret not saying anything when the guy in the mall told me to leave and take the storm with me. I should've just started dancing and chanting until he left or three hours went by and the storm was gone. Then I would have said you're welcome and just walked away.

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.

I am going to break my own rule and premise for this blog by going back farther than a week ago. I made some mistakes last week but none worth blogging about. I think I should let everyone know I am typing this from the waiting room of my fiancés gynecologist. She had an appointment and I came with her, I didn't just come up here for the quiet atmosphere and informative pamphlets. Believe it or not a man with a laptop and no vagina sitting in the waiting room of a doctor who specifies in the vagina will get some second looks.

1) This marks the twentieth anniversary of my parents divorce. Don't worry I've dealt with it. The story of how my parents met starts at a truck stop. It would be a nice story if my mom was a waitress and my dad was a traveling salesman who swept her off her feet. That's close. My mom was hitchhiking and she hitchhiked to a truck stop where she met a truck driver, that's my dad. She decided it was best to hop in the rig with him and eventually marry him. Was it a surprise they got divorced. No. It was a surprise she wasn't murdered. Their love story starts out like a cold case file.

Fast forward a few years later I'm five and they are getting divorced. Both of my parents are good people but apparently not good decision makers. They decided I the five-year-old child should decide where I was going to live. There was going to be no lawyers, or custody battle, or even a thumb war what I say goes. I've seen people fight harder over that last piece of pizza than they did for me. To put it in perspective I was going to make the decision that will affect the lives of my entire family and I didn't even make the decision of what clothes I was wearing when they asked me to do this. I decided to live with my dad. Looking back that's the most logical decision from a person who is still not convinced that mud isn't food.

My dad moved us to Tennessee in a one-bedroom apartment. I slept downstairs on a hid-a-bed in the living room. I think this was a good decision for a couple reasons. First, he was newly single and if a woman that doesn't like children comes by he can fold me and all my toys up in the couch, or hide-a-kid. Then all he would have to do is explain why he loves juice, cereal and small bowls and she would have no clue. Secondly, I slept on the couch right in front of the front door while he slept upstairs. This is a great security system. Just imagine, if an intruder breaks in the apartment I could get a few high-pitched five-year-old screams out before he murders and possibly rapes me. This lets my dad know there is something amiss and he can alert the authorities. Safety first.

I have no pictures from the year I lived with my dad. I am twenty-five years old now so I was five at one point, but I have no photographic evidence of that. I hope that doesn't come up. It think it may be the unhealthiest year of my life. I ate like a five-year-old would if you let him eat whatever he wanted. About six months in I was hoping my mom would send me a cake with stuff stashed in it like in old prison movies. But instead of files and hammers she could put vitamins and minerals in it. My dad is a good person and I realize it's tough to raise a child, so don't think I am a dick. I only lived with him for one year. Recently he told me he knew that year wasn't easy, he said when I came along he just wasn't ready to be a father. I was his forth child.

Amendment: I would've chosen to live on the road as a five-year-old nomad. Eventually moving to New York City and following in Jodi Foster's footsteps from Taxi Driver.

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check out www.tommyjcomedy.com

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.


I turned a quarter of a century old on tuesday. I spent most of my birthday in my room at the best western in downtown Boston eating a cake that my chick sent. I destroyed that cake. I didn't have any plates so I just started in the center and ate until the cake folded in on its self as a sign of defeat. I left a little bit of the cake partially because I couldn't eat any more and partially because I can still say "at least I didn't eat the whole cake." I was told that the cake was made for eight people, or one sad birthday boy. I managed to eat just enough cake to feel fat,sick and diabetic.

I don't know why but this birthday depressed me more than most. I think it has something to do with the fact that I am a year older and weigh more than I have ever weighed in my life. I don't think a part of my brain works properly sometimes; I was feeling bad about being fatter than normal and thought eating a cake would make me feel better. I enjoyed the cake at first then I started forcing myself to take bites as a punishment for being fat.

Some how my pants are still fitting me but i've noticed some shirts don't. I put on a shirt that I liked and it was snug then I put on a different shirt and it was more like a tourniquet for my upper torso. The shirt which fit me when I bought it is now so tight you could see my heart beating. Some of the button down shirts I used to wear are now uncomfortable. My stomach is putting pressure on the two buttons half way down the shirt like it's a football team getting ready to burst though a banner. I am by no means morbidly obese but I am about thirty or forty pounds from saying f@k it and finding out exactly how long you can live on a diet of pop tarts and fudge rounds.

I've seen people so fat I would think how do you let your self go that bad, now I think I know exactly how you got there. One cake at a time. If you have read these before you know my fiance is on medicine that lowers her sex drive...so she says. In my opinion the doctors and pharmacists are actors and the medicine is placebo in an effort to not have sex with me until i am at my original playing weight. I know worrying about your weight is generally a female concern but i like to be told I'm pretty every once and a while too.

AMENDMENT: I would've finished every bite of that stupid cake just so I could say "I ate the whole cake and then cried tears of chocolate."


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check out www.tommyjcomedy.com

Everyone has a few things in their life they would love to go back in time and change. I have so many I wouldn't even know where to start. it would be easier if every monday I could recap all of the bad decisions I made the week before, and go back and change them. Just in case that power becomes available I've decided to write a blog every week and list the things from the previous week that I would change. Here is one from last week.


1) I had a big raised spot on my leg and being the optimist that I am immediately assumed it was a cancerous tumor and I was going to lose my leg. The bad part is no one would make an inspiring movie about me because I don't think I use my legs to their full potential anyway. At this point in life I almost think my legs are a hassle anyway. There will be no Tommy Johnagin story where I lose my leg but still find a way to play the sport I've been married to my entire life. Soccer.

I decided to head to the emergency room since I already met my insurance deductible for the year. I don't go to the doctor very much but in January I thought I had a brain tumor that was causing me headaches. Turns out it was just a sinus infection. The doctor said it was acute sinusitis, which I'm guessing is the worst one. After having a sinus infection I decided I never want to actually have a brain tumor that has to suck.

Back to last week. I'm sitting in the emergency room hoping they can hurry and get me in because I don't want to miss my show. I can't tell anyone that because it would sound weird to ask to be bumped to the top of the list to go tell jokes. But it could be good for them. I tell jokes, people laugh a lot and drink a lot and maybe even drive home then end up in the emergency room later that night. If I don't go, the show is canceled and the emergency room is dead all night.

There is a sign in the emergency room stating that they see you in order of how severe your injury is. I start looking around the room to make sure there is no gun shot victims or women in labor. Because in my head those are the only two things worse than deadly leg tumor. I get called back and the first nurse asked me to describe the "lump." I did the best I could. Then she asked me to take off my pants. Which made me wonder why I had to describe it if I was going to strip down right after. Did she think I was lying? And she thought I wasn't good enough to make up an accurate description. Maybe she thought I would get done telling her what it looks like and she would say AH HA you just described Samuel l Jackson, not a tumor. Now get out of here!!! Or she thought I had so many she needed a description before even looking. Kind of a police line up for tumors. With my pants down she looks at it and says to herself "that's what I thought."

I go back to my own private room. Another nurse comes in and immediately tells me to remove my pants and get on the bed. Ahh, to be single again(just joking Heidi). I oblige. she looks at it for a couple seconds and just blurts out the bad news without even warning me. I had...an ingrown hair.

I have never wished for a deadly leg tumor more. I'm now sitting in my underwear at the emergency room basically having a nurse look at my non-deadly leg pimple. The first nurse that let me in knew it was an ingrown hair but said nothing to me. Plus there were people still in the waiting room. I thought people were admitted according to how serious there injury was. Who was a lower priority than me? A guy with hunger pains. A woman that broke a nail. A person with their hand partially ripped off while working at their job that doesn't offer health insurance. Where do you think you are, Canada? Here's some ointment and a hook.


AMENDMENT: when the first nurse asked me to take off my pants I would've started cryin and said "the doctor already did this test in the bathroom, and it still hurts"


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