How to Write Your Own Kick Ass Obituary
1. Write your own obituary
It is imperative that you write your own obituary or have a trusted friend do it BEFORE you die. If you do not, your Aunt (who has her own blog and fancies herself as a “writer”) will type it up and it will suck and you’ll be stuck with an awful summation of your life.
It is imperative that you write your own obituary or have a trusted friend do it BEFORE you die. If you do not, your Aunt (who has her own blog and fancies herself as a “writer”) will type it up and it will suck and you’ll be stuck with an awful summation of your life.
Once you do finish writing your own obit, make sure you send a draft copy out to all your family and friends so that they can miss you while you are still alive. They will then have the opportunity to pay to be included in the obituary (see section #5) or pay to be excluded from the obituary (see section #8.)
2. Don't give them the satisfaction
Most people will suggest you start off an obit with the person’s name, the date they died and how they died. I suggest you start off with “You are not going to believe this!” or “Guess what that fat f*ck Bob did now” or “You were right.” Don't include your age so that your friends don't get the satisfaction of outliving you.
Most people will suggest you start off an obit with the person’s name, the date they died and how they died. I suggest you start off with “You are not going to believe this!” or “Guess what that fat f*ck Bob did now” or “You were right.” Don't include your age so that your friends don't get the satisfaction of outliving you.
3. Doug who?
No one knows you by your real name so why die by that name? Nicknames that were used independently of your name go in quotation marks in the middle of your real name.
No one knows you by your real name so why die by that name? Nicknames that were used independently of your name go in quotation marks in the middle of your real name.
Robert “Stacks” Gutfruend
Joan “Cookie Monster” McCreedy
Nicknames that were part of your job or the reason you went to jail go before your real name:
“Handsy” Jim Handland
“Luscious Diamond” Tina Ralph
“Tea-Bag” Bill Billingsworth
Or if you don’t want anyone to know you died, just post a fake nickname.
John “Two-Sack” Christopher
If you didn’t have a nickname in real life, make sure you make one up or tell your obit writer your suggestions before you die. And don’t post your middle name. We’re not monogramming a sweater here.
4. Rhyming and haikus make for great obituaries
I suggest trying them together.
You smoked like a fire
Now you're atop a pyre
No flowers please, Thanks!
Now you're atop a pyre
No flowers please, Thanks!
5. No one cares
No one cares about who died before you or how many cousins you have that are still alive. If your relatives want in your obit, charge them $5 - $10 a mention.
No one cares about who died before you or how many cousins you have that are still alive. If your relatives want in your obit, charge them $5 - $10 a mention.
No one cares where you went to school or where you earned your associates degree. List your favorite bars or hang outs. People are more likely to remember Johnny “Cantaloupes” Mullroy from the bowling alley, rather than a graduate of Lancaster High School
6. People like excitement
Don’t die of cancer. Die of a space borne alien parasite.
Don’t die of cancer. Die of a space borne alien parasite.
Don’t die in a car accident. Get hit by a meteorite.
Die a hero (stolen from Royal Tennebaums) "Died Tragically Rescuing his Family From the Wreckage of a Destroyed Sinking Battleship."
And do not fail to give a reason for why you died or people will assume it was from something embarrassing. Everyone knows that a non-mention means "bled to death from a masturbation accident."
7. Get donations now
There are services that will “loan’ you a lump sum of money now and get that money back when you die through the "Please donate to" charity suggested in the obituary. The loan companies have names like, “The Amerikan Heart Foundation” and “The Redd Cross” and “Amway.” At the bottom of your obit, have money sent to them in lieu of flowers. If you can’t come up with enough donations to cover your loan, they will take your suit/dress, coffin and body parts to make up the difference.
There are services that will “loan’ you a lump sum of money now and get that money back when you die through the "Please donate to" charity suggested in the obituary. The loan companies have names like, “The Amerikan Heart Foundation” and “The Redd Cross” and “Amway.” At the bottom of your obit, have money sent to them in lieu of flowers. If you can’t come up with enough donations to cover your loan, they will take your suit/dress, coffin and body parts to make up the difference.
8. Let those jerks have it
An Obituary is the perfect time to get back at all the people who have pissed you off your entire life. Being dead is the perfect cover for a lie or to let out a really stinky truth. Here are a few examples:
An Obituary is the perfect time to get back at all the people who have pissed you off your entire life. Being dead is the perfect cover for a lie or to let out a really stinky truth. Here are a few examples:
-I never loved you (insert family member’s name here.)
-Coach Rogers touched me on my pee pee after baseball practice.
-I had herpes. Now I have worms.
-Aunt Tina, I was and always will be a Red Sox fan.
-My G-mail and MySpace password is clicktowin34. Go ahead and read my e-mails, honey.
This is also a perfect opportunity for relatives to make “pre-donations” to be excluded from this portion of the obituary. For $10 now, Uncle Bob won't get outted. For $50 neither will your Uncle Lou whom you found with Uncle Bob.
Here is my Obituary, just so you know:
Doug “Holyjuan” Messerschmit
Well, you can all stop placing your bets. Doug is dead. You won’t see him at B-Hampton’s or at Skully’s anymore, but you can see him Ray’s Funeral Home this Wednesday from 6 – 8pm . The parts of his body that were not destroyed when he dove on top the improvised nuclear device and thus saved the city will be on display. HolyJuan liked to dance poorly, drink quickly, tell the same stories and flirt with the ladies. He owned two bowling shirts and 12 pairs of Converse. He is survived by his parents ($20) and one sister ($5.) Donations can be made to the American Kancer Society and my brother used to stick Legos in my butt while I slept.
The Friend Tiers
Terry and I were talking about friendship. How do you categorize friends? Aren’t friends
just friends? I say no. I think that
friends are divided up into tiers. There’s
tier one friends and then everything else drips down from there. Allow me to explain:
Tier One Friends: These are your closest friends. In fact,
they are your most hated of friends. These are the friends that you have to
deal with. If they screw up, you are
there to hold back their hair while they puke or lie to the cops. You carry their baggage. You live their
lies. You are there when they need you
and there when they do not want you there.
You forgive them. You forgive
them again. You help them into rehab.
You help them back into rehab. You
loan them money and never expect to get it back. They make mistakes and you yell at them for
messing up again. You diss all your other tiered friends because they need
you. You love them and you hate them.
But best of all, they are there for you when you are throwing up or getting
arrested or coming down off a black tar heroin binge. You cannot get rid of them and
they cannot get rid of you.
Tier Two Friends: These are the best friends. You can hang with them. You can listen to their woes without getting
involved. You help them when they need a
hand and if you’ve got some other pressing issue, they understand. They are
there for you when you have a flat, but you would never expect them to do more
than call AAA. They loan you money and
expect you will pay them back. They know
when to walk away. They know when to leave you alone. Tier Two friends
sometimes make it to be Tier One friends, but you hope they don’t. These are
the people that help you move when you buy a new house.
Tier Three Friends: These are your Tier Two friends’ friends. You see
them at the grocery and you only talk about the common friend. They are the work friends that will someday
be Tier Two friends, but not today. They wave and say hello, but don’t ask you
about anything more than the local baseball team or work related issues. They will bring you back lunch if it isn’t an
inconvenience. Sometimes they think of
themselves at Tier Two friends and you listen to them patiently and then
promptly shove them into the Tier Four Friend category.
Tier Four Friend: These are the people you have to be
friends with. Your neighbor who keeps
harping on your mowing technique. The parent of your kid’s friend who does not
share the same basic set of interpersonal communication skills. All religious leaders.
Most real estate agents. At night you secretly dream of killing them.
Tier Five Friend: Anyone on Facebook who does not fall into
any of the above category. They are
idiots and you have no clue why you even still interact with them except that
they were born in the same year as you and you graduated at the same time.
Palmerfest: Then and Now - A comparison of the 1991 and 2017 Ohio University street party
You can be in a place and understand it, but once you move
on and see it from a distance through time, you begin to see it through the filter of all the
memories between now and then, and it becomes something else.
(*Actually, it was the 2nd Palmerfest. The first one happened six months earlier in
October. But we learned our lesson and
moved the party to what we thought would be a warmer part of the calendar.)
I lived in the Lakeview Apartments in the spring of 1991,
but Joe, Paul, Amy, Betce and Squirrel lived at 19 Palmer. Most of us had lived together the year before
in Martzolff House and so I was very good friends with them. Due to the party we had the previous October,
there was a desire to have another street party when it was warmer. The day before, Chris and I searched the
surrounding area for the shared “stage” that the bands would play on. It consisted to two sections, both made from
4’x8’ sheets of plywood and 4”x4” legs. I don’t think the stage belonged to
anyone, but it floated from party to party as needed.
On the day of Palmerfest, the drinking started at around 1pm
when the beer trailer was opened with an astounding 17 kegs of beer. People that lived on Palmer had each thrown
in $10 or so towards the beer, though some threw in more and several did not
throw in any at all, which led to future Palmerfests where houses bought their
own kegs. Though it was cold, the turnout was sizable and the beer truck ran
out sooner than expected. Partiers walked down to the corner stores and emptied
the coolers of beer cans and bottles.
Four bands played throughout the day and there were very few issues
outside of a bottle thrown at a house, an impromptu bonfire, thousands of cans
and bottles strewn through the yards and a huge freaking water bill from people
using the 19 Palmer bathroom. The police
shut the party down at 10pm due to noise and people dispersed to pass out or to
head uptown.
In the 1991-92 school
year, I moved into 19 Palmer. This year
the party was moved to May and houses held their own parties. We made t-shirts this year. It was warm enough that we were able to play
wiffle ball and volleyball before things go too busy. We set the stage up again and bands played
throughout the day. I thought it would
be a great idea to turn off the water to the bathroom so people wouldn’t use
the toilet. People still used the
toilet. I was shooting bottle rockets
out of my large beer cup and didn’t seemed concerned that I was drinking sulfur
and ash. I wish I could remember the
girl who offhandedly named the drink, “firecracker juice.” This year seemed busier than the year
before. More people were coming in from
out of town to attend. I was unavailable for consciousness when the police shut
down Palmerfest in ’92. The next
morning, I woke up and picked up the cans out of the back yard for about an
hour and wondered why my mouth tasted like brimstone.
 |
| A still surviving 1992 Palmerfest t-shirt |
I went to the 1993 Palmerfest as a guest, though I was
involved with the minority faction of people that tried to get the date
moved. I forget why changing the date
was important at the time. This was the
year I took the following horrible panoramic photo. Still fun. Still didn’t get closed down until
late.
I then took the next
15 years off.
In 2009, I got a call from The Post looking for an interview
about the original Palmerfest. I spoke
to them about what I remembered and I thought about attending, but did
not. 2009 was the first year of the “near
riots” on Palmer. The 2009 – 2011 Palmerfests were some of the most chaotic, as
people escaped the confines of the yards and flooded the streets with thrown
bottles, fires and massive arrests. Police patrols had been increasing over the
years as well as the arrests. The Athens
Police department purchased what they called a “communications vehicle” that
they specially modified so officers could stand on the top and monitor the street.
To me it looked like some kind of armored military vehicle. Parties were beginning to get shut down
earlier and earlier. After the incidents in 2009, the City of Athens created
the “Nuisance Party” law.
2017 rolled around; it would be the 27th Annual
Palmerfest. In some text exchanges with my niece, I discovered she would be
attending Palmerfest and my brother would be coming down as well. I decided
to make this an educational /historical trip and I sent a letter to the residents
of 19 Palmer. Actually to the residents of 19 Palmer A and 19 Palmer B because
the house had been turned into a duplex. Here’s the letter.
Both sides of 19 Palmer actually responded and invited me to
attend. When I asked about what time I should come down and suggested 11am,
they both replied that might be a bit late, things would be kicking off around
7am and that I shouldn’t delay. What
happened to sleeping in until noon?
So at 7:30 am on Saturday, April 8th, 2017, I
jumped in the family van with an Ohio University shirt, a note pad, and a sleeping bag in case things got
too crazy, and drove to Athens, Ohio.
I parked on Hocking Street, which is one parallel street
over from Palmer. At 8:30 am, things were already started, even on the
ancillary streets. I wandered through
the back yards to the front of 19 Palmer Street.
 |
| 19 Palmer Street 2017 |
This is where I stop and correct myself when I said, “back
yards.” When I was at Ohio University, the
back yards of 19, 21, 23, 25 and 27 Palmer Street were grassy expanses. We played volleyball, wiffle ball, laid out
blankets, kept ducks and passed out in the soft embrace of the grass. Around 2004, the owners of those properties
added a second house to the back of the original houses and paved the rest of
the area to make parking spaces. It’s a cold,
concrete expanse where volleyball would be painful and passing out leads to
concussions. I’ll be bringing up this
point later and it will be on the quiz.
 |
| 21 Palmer Street on the left going down to 27 on the right |
When I came around to the front of 19 Palmer, a girl (Ellen)
took one look at me and said, “Are you Doug?” I was. She said they were expecting me. She got the other Ellen, who I had been in
communication with, and they gave me a beer and a tour of the house. Outside of there being another house strapped
to the back of it, 19 Palmer has not changed much in 27 years. They turned most of the back porch into a 2nd
bathroom and used the leftover bits to widen the kitchen. There were some new windows and all the
windows that used to face the backyard were now half windows that faced the
addition in back. Ellen, Ellen, Katie,
Kristie and Allie were all super nice and allowed me in their bedrooms which
was different from 1991 when I couldn’t get in any girl’s bedroom. The bedrooms were almost exactly the same
with the additions of a few coats of paint.
Same wood floor and trim and plaster walls with old light fixtures. The kitchen was wider than ours with counters
on either side. They had my letter up on
the refrigerator, which made be a little bit proud.
After sharing some stories about the original Palmerfest, I
headed to 19 Palmer B. Kristen welcomed
me and introduced me to (sorry if I get a name wrong) Alexis, Emma, Monica,
Emily and Toni. Their place looked
completely updated, even if it was built in 2004. My letter was on their refrigerator, too.
They had a DJ on their porch and a large amount of vodka.
As I waited for my brother and niece to arrive, I bounced
between the front and back of 19 Palmer, observing, taking notes and photos. I
think people thought I was a cop. As it got closer to 10:00 am, things were
really picking up. The front yards were
filling up and even the concrete desolation in the back started to fill with
people drinking, throwing Frisbees and a football. I guess some things don’t change.
Steve and Sydney showed up around 11:00 am. Sydney is the
same age I was when the first Palmerfest happened. We drank from the three
cases of Miller Lite that Steve brought. We hung out at 19 Palmer for a bit,
wandered down to 23 Palmer before heading over to Palmer Place.
 |
| Steve, Sydney and HolyJuan |
A number of curious people were brave enough to walk up to
me and ask me what the hell I was doing there. I got to tell them that I was one
of the original people that started Palmerfest. They were interested in
listening to grandpa tell his stories.
At one point as I was walking from 19 Palmer to 23 Palmer, a guy
standing in a circle of dudes yelled out, “Hey, Dad! What are you doing here?”
I do not think he expected me to turn around and confront him and his group
with, “Listen here, you mother fucking punk kids. I started this fucking mess
and you need to show me some respect.”
With that, we all laughed and I told them about what it was like before
electricity.
In the end, we finished drinking around 2:00 pm and I walked
past 19 Palmer to see them being cleared out.
We went to my brother’s illegally parked RV and rested for a few hours
before heading Uptown to eat dinner. By
8:00 pm, I was done. I walked back to Hocking Street, got into the
van and drove down the mostly empty Palmer Street and headed back to Columbus.
THE COMPARISON
The difference between the 1991 Palmerfest and 2017 Palmer
Fest are many, but luckily there are some things that don’t change. I
interviewed both 19A and 19B Palmer and this is what I discovered about
Palmerfest now.
DATE:
Back in the 90s, we chose (and sometimes fought about) what
date Palmerfest would occur on. At some point, once semesters were instituted,
Palmerfest became locked in to the school calendar. There is a drumbeat of
weekends that happen after Spring Break: Mill Fest/Congo Fest, High Fest, Mom’s
Weekend (MILF Fest – ha!) and Palmerfest (with Palmer Place Fest happening the
day before.) In speaking with people, they didn’t even think that you could
have ever even created a date for Palmerfest… it just happens.
CASES OF NATURAL (NATTY) LIGHT
Tons of cases of Natty Light, just like the original
Palmerfest. Some things never change. Also saw a few brown bags with 40ozers which
brought back memories.
FASHION:
People are still wearing dumb shit. I did notice there were
less bras.
BANDS:
There are a lot less bands and more DJs. I saw four DJs as I
roamed about. Some of the DJs are sponsored. I didn’t there there was going to
be any bands, but one pulled up around 11:00am, played and then got out of
there by 2pm. My understanding is that
in the mid-90s, the bands got bigger with larger stages, lighting and sound
boards. That all stopped when the back yards went away.
BACK YARDS:
This is a biggie. As
I mentioned before, back in 1991, the houses had back yards and the party was
contained to the individual houses and the large back yard area. The only
reason to be in a front yard was to cross the street. When the duplexes were built to the backs of
the houses, this pushed people from one big open space to the front yards. This created more opportunities for drunk
people to interact with the sidewalks and street where cops are allowed to
patrol. While the number of people I saw at this year’s Palmerfest would have
overflowed the backyards, containing the party to that area might have kept the
pressure off people creeping on to the sidewalks. FUN OBSERVATION: almost everyone I saw
crossing the street with a cup held it upside down to show it was empty.
 |
| 1994 Satellite photo of Palmer Street. You can see the space behind the five houses in a row. |
 |
| The five houses with duplexes and parking lots. |
POLICE BEFORE THE EVENT :
Full credit goes to the Athens City Police on containing
this madness in a calm and orderly chaos.
Here’s their system:
A few weeks before “Fest Season” starts, the City of Athens
sends out a mailer with the rules and regulations about parking, open
containers, fires, temporary fences, stages, Port-a-Potties, etc. A few days
before the specific party weekend, police will go door to door to talk with the
people that live at the house and make sure they are aware of the Nuisance
Parties City Code and that they will be held responsible for any person on the
property who is breaking the ordnance. They also remind houses that any they
will be fined for any trash in their yard that is still there at 9:00 am the
following day.
 |
| This was from the Mill Street Fest, but you get the idea. |
POLICE DURING THE EVENT:
At the original Palmerfest, the Athens City Police showed
up. I assume that in the following years
that the Sheriff’s Department might have joined the fun. In 2017, I saw the following:
·
Athens City
·
Athens County Sheriffs
·
Glouster Police
·
Logan City Police
·
Lancaster City Police
·
Dublin City Police
·
Ohio State Highway Patrol
The most obvious police were the ones on horseback. There were at least eight of them that I saw throughout the day.
 |
| This horse has a PBR horseshoe. |
The police moved up and down the street, keeping a watch on
things. I saw them stop one girl who had
an open container that she thought was closed because the wine bottle had a
cork in it. They checked her ID, made her dump it out and dispose of the glass
bottle, as glass containers are forbidden. The next guy the stopped was on the
sidewalk with a can of beer. He “didn’t have” his ID on him, admitted he was
underage and got a citation or summons.
As things got crazier, the girls at 19A Palmer maintained
order in the front yard. Anyone too close to the sidewalk was told to scoot
back. Too much wild behavior would capture the attention of the cops. Early in
the day, the cops would warn homeowners if their “guests” were getting out of
control. You wanted to party, but not attract too much attention.
At some point around 1pm, the police made their move. They
selected a house that was beginning to get out of control. The eight horsemen of the partypocalypse brought
their horses and lined up in front of the selected house. The police on foot
would then find the hosts and tell them that they were in violation of the Nuisance
Parties code and that they needed to make everyone leave. At that point, the residents turned off the
music and kicked everyone out of the house and yard, front and back. It is a crazy sight to see three houses in a
row, with the yards filled with people on either side of an empty yard. Two police are left in the front yard to hold
the line and ensure a party doesn’t spontaneously combust. Then the police continue to roam up and down
the street, waiting for the next party
to get too crazy. You can probably see what happens here: when the guests of
one house party get shut down, they go to another house and that party begins
to overflow, thus attracting the attention of the cops. The police did something
counter-intuitive which seemed to work: they didn’t start at one end of the
street and work their way down, forcing people into a cluster and creating a
wall of drunk people. They picked apart the mass, house by house, dividing and
conquering the crowd without creating a mass of people in one area. As a
student, I would have been pissed about this, but as an adult, I thought it was
genius.
19 Palmer made it until about 2:40 pm and by 4:00 pm,
Palmerfest was shut down. Parties that were shut down too early secreted their
kegs to other streets to continue the party.
Our group went to Palmer Place, an apartment complex across the street
from 19 Palmer, and continued there.
DIFFERENCES:
Obviously the size difference is massive. We didn't have social media or anyone sponsoring parties or DJs. The police presence was big and residents were never expected to take responsibility for their guests. The party getting shut down by 4:00pm was a disappointment because we all know that guys like me have a much better chance of hooking up under the cover of darkness.
STILL THE SAME:
Drinking games, though we had beer bongs, they have flip cup
and beer pong; there was still beer shot gunning. People still have dogs. Doors to houses were open and no one was dumb enough
to shut the water off to their bathroom. People were nice. People were fun.
People were drunk. People let me tell my stories.
CHART OF COMPARISONS:
SUMMARY:
Palmerfest has grown to be an event that seems to have perpetual motion. While there have been riot like bumps in the road, the street party continues to lumber forward. For it's own good, local authorities seem to have contained the insanity without sanctioning the event and turning it into a street carnival and sucking the life out of it. The Palmerfest originators could never predicted where the party is today and many of the people today were unaware of its meager beginnings. Overall, the original reason for Palmerfest was to throw a large, kickass party.
 |
| From top left clockwise: wiffle ball, the old garage from 19 Palmer, Steve on the back roof of 19 Palmer, the old narrow kitchen of 19 Palmer |
 |
| I stowed my cup in the bushes, a 1991 party tactic |
 |
| These sisters saw me taking photos and just asked if I would take their photo too. |
 |
| Palmer Street 2017 around 11:30am |
 |
| The back of 19 Palmer around noon |
 |
| Steve and Sydney |
 |
| This seems to be a permanent sign on Palmer Street |
 |
| Not the topless partygoer I wanted to see |
 |
| Palmer Place around 2:00pm as people were being kicked out of Palmer Street |
"I Love Me. Who Do You Love?" available on Amazon
Thanks to a number of friends and fans, I was able to publish a collection of stories and posts from HolyJuan.com. That book is now available on Amazon (I Love Me. Who Do You Love?)
If you go to the link, you can preview a bit of it with the "Look Inside" feature. You will note that there are full sentences and some instances of proper grammar. It is available in hard copy and for Kindle.
Thanks to those of you that contributed and you other fucking slackers who have been enjoying HolyJuan for FREE over the past 11 years need to pony up and buy a stinking copy. If you are completely down on your luck, I do have a number of .mobi copies that I can give away for free. Email me at holyjuan@gmail.com if you would like a copy for your device.
If you go to the link, you can preview a bit of it with the "Look Inside" feature. You will note that there are full sentences and some instances of proper grammar. It is available in hard copy and for Kindle.
Thanks to those of you that contributed and you other fucking slackers who have been enjoying HolyJuan for FREE over the past 11 years need to pony up and buy a stinking copy. If you are completely down on your luck, I do have a number of .mobi copies that I can give away for free. Email me at holyjuan@gmail.com if you would like a copy for your device.
Blackheart Dinosaur - Unpopular Rock
My buddy's band enter in the RPM challenge to make a record in a month or less. I'm not sure how well the player is going to appear on this site, but you can use the link below to get there.
http://rpmchallenge.com/index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userprofile&user=63171&Itemid=296
blackheartdino's player:
http://rpmchallenge.com/index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userprofile&user=63171&Itemid=296
Update Your Laminated List Day
I think everyone is aware that February 25th is the Annual
Update Your Laminated List Day.
As you all know, a Laminated List is the three famous people
with whom your spouse/significant other will allow you to have sex with if ever the opportunity
presents itself. If you happen to run into one of your three famous people and
they are drunk enough to let you jump in the sack / couch / Uber with you, then you have permission to have guilt free sex with any one of
the three people on that list.
My list has only changed slightly with the removal of Kat
Dennings (I’m starting to think I can trick Miss Sally into putting Kat on her
list) and the addition of Cara Delevingne.
1. Christina Ricci (Still number one after all these years)
2. Milana Vayntrub (She’s the AT&T girl and my crushy crush)
3. Cara Delevingne (I don’t know what it is… but she makes my heart hurt)
Let’s hear what your three picks are!
Funded!
My KickStarter was funded! Thank you to everyone who donated and still might want to donate. I'm getting some numbers together to see about creating an audio book. Yes, an audio book.
There is still time to donate and get in on some of the awesome rewards!
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/296271333/i-love-me-who-do-you-love-my-life-as-holyjuan
There is still time to donate and get in on some of the awesome rewards!
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/296271333/i-love-me-who-do-you-love-my-life-as-holyjuan
KickStarter for a HolyJuan book
Hello friends of HolyJuan.com;
I have created a KickStarter to fund publishing my first book. Please take a look at the link below and help me to get this off the ground.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/296271333/i-love-me-who-do-you-love-my-life-as-holyjuan
Thanks to all of you who have stuck around all these years. I did this for me, but really is was for you. (It was really just for me.)
I have created a KickStarter to fund publishing my first book. Please take a look at the link below and help me to get this off the ground.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/296271333/i-love-me-who-do-you-love-my-life-as-holyjuan
Thanks to all of you who have stuck around all these years. I did this for me, but really is was for you. (It was really just for me.)
Strange Disappearances
My loyal readers may note that some of my articles are going to missing links. I hate to say that I ran afoul of some bad hombres and they kidnapped some of my best articles and are holding them digitally hostage for ransom.
I'm sorry for the inconvenience and hope to be able to get those articles back out in public as soon as possible. There are still plenty of other horribly written items to read.
I'm sorry for the inconvenience and hope to be able to get those articles back out in public as soon as possible. There are still plenty of other horribly written items to read.
How to answer a child’s questions about death
Right after sex and the alt-right movement, death is one of the most difficult matters to explain to a child. Here are some questions you may get and some sample answers in reference to a dead Uncle Bob. Remember, the answers you give may be different, so do not read these word for word to the child unless your dead person is also Uncle Bob.
1. Where’s Uncle Bob?
Uncle Bob is dead.
2. What is dead?
Dead is when you stop breathing.
3. I can hold my breath.
That is not a question, but I’ll answer it anyways. If you were to hold your breath for a long time you would die. Just like Uncle Bob.
4. Is Uncle Bob being punished by God?
No. Uncle Bob did not believe in God. Too bad for Bob, because God believed in him. So now Bob is in hell with the devil and eternal fires.
5. Why is Bob in that box?
Bob is in that plain box because he could not afford the metal one with the stainless steel. Bob was a bad planner and spent his money on booze and women. Daddy wishes he could have the plain box.
6. No, why is he in that box and not moving?
He’s dead. I thought we covered that in #1.
7. No, why is he out so we can see him?
Uncle Bob is being displayed so that people can say their last good-byes. In a little while, they will shut the box and bury the box in the ground.
8. Why do we put people in the ground?
Dead people can come back as zombies and it is best to lock them up and stick them as far as possible under the earth. Remember, only a head shot can take out a zombie. Don’t try to light them on fire. You can also hit them with a guitar.
9. Mom said Uncle Bob was going to be cremated.
Oh shit. You are right. He’ll get stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, then they give us a handful of ashes, which we can pretend are his.
10. Was that last line a complete rip off from the Monty Python “Undertaker” sketch?
Yes. Your Uncle Bob loved Python. And scotch.
11. What are all these rocks with the writing on them?
Those are called tombstones. They are overpriced chunks of marble so that we can remember that we outlived Uncle Bob. You’ll note that Uncle Bob’s tombstone looks like everyone else’s and we are bound to spend countless hours searching around for it so that your mother can swap out the flowers.
12. Why is everyone crying?
Uncle Bob owed a lot of people a lot of money. This funeral ain’t cheap either.
13. You didn’t like Uncle Bob, did you?
It’s not polite to say bad things about the dead.
14. Will I die?
Someday, yes. But not for a long time. You’ll spend years of your life, trudging and plodding and scraping by. You’ll get married and have kids and retire. Then one day you'll ask yourself "why?" Then you'll impatiently wait for death to come to your doorstep.
15. Which is harder to explain: death, sex or neoconservatism?
Sex, then neoconservatism and then death. In that order.
16. Why do people have to die?
People have to die so that the cigarette companies can make more money. At least that's what I read somewhere.
17. Did Bonkers die?
No, Bonkers ran away. And let's stick with the Uncle Bob theme.
18. What if Uncle Bob wakes up and he is under ground?
Good question. Uncle Bob is really, really dead. But just in case, all bodies are buried with a cell phone and five free minutes. I hope this cemetery isn't outside of our calling area.
19. Are you going to try to stretch this out to an even twenty questions?
No.
1. Where’s Uncle Bob?
Uncle Bob is dead.
2. What is dead?
Dead is when you stop breathing.
3. I can hold my breath.
That is not a question, but I’ll answer it anyways. If you were to hold your breath for a long time you would die. Just like Uncle Bob.
4. Is Uncle Bob being punished by God?
No. Uncle Bob did not believe in God. Too bad for Bob, because God believed in him. So now Bob is in hell with the devil and eternal fires.
5. Why is Bob in that box?
Bob is in that plain box because he could not afford the metal one with the stainless steel. Bob was a bad planner and spent his money on booze and women. Daddy wishes he could have the plain box.
6. No, why is he in that box and not moving?
He’s dead. I thought we covered that in #1.
7. No, why is he out so we can see him?
Uncle Bob is being displayed so that people can say their last good-byes. In a little while, they will shut the box and bury the box in the ground.
8. Why do we put people in the ground?
Dead people can come back as zombies and it is best to lock them up and stick them as far as possible under the earth. Remember, only a head shot can take out a zombie. Don’t try to light them on fire. You can also hit them with a guitar.
9. Mom said Uncle Bob was going to be cremated.
Oh shit. You are right. He’ll get stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, then they give us a handful of ashes, which we can pretend are his.
10. Was that last line a complete rip off from the Monty Python “Undertaker” sketch?
Yes. Your Uncle Bob loved Python. And scotch.
11. What are all these rocks with the writing on them?
Those are called tombstones. They are overpriced chunks of marble so that we can remember that we outlived Uncle Bob. You’ll note that Uncle Bob’s tombstone looks like everyone else’s and we are bound to spend countless hours searching around for it so that your mother can swap out the flowers.
12. Why is everyone crying?
Uncle Bob owed a lot of people a lot of money. This funeral ain’t cheap either.
13. You didn’t like Uncle Bob, did you?
It’s not polite to say bad things about the dead.
14. Will I die?
Someday, yes. But not for a long time. You’ll spend years of your life, trudging and plodding and scraping by. You’ll get married and have kids and retire. Then one day you'll ask yourself "why?" Then you'll impatiently wait for death to come to your doorstep.
15. Which is harder to explain: death, sex or neoconservatism?
Sex, then neoconservatism and then death. In that order.
16. Why do people have to die?
People have to die so that the cigarette companies can make more money. At least that's what I read somewhere.
17. Did Bonkers die?
No, Bonkers ran away. And let's stick with the Uncle Bob theme.
18. What if Uncle Bob wakes up and he is under ground?
Good question. Uncle Bob is really, really dead. But just in case, all bodies are buried with a cell phone and five free minutes. I hope this cemetery isn't outside of our calling area.
19. Are you going to try to stretch this out to an even twenty questions?
No.
John Glenn’s Space Peaches
I met John Glenn. It
was during the 1992 election when Clinton was running against the senior George
Bush. I was working for Lyon Video and they had a satellite uplink. Glenn was a Senator in Ohio and was campaigning
for Clinton. He was going to be
interviewed by some cable channel. I put his mic on. It’s the closest to orbit I will ever get.
A few years later, I was working for COSI, a science museum
in Columbus. We built a display case for
John Glenn’s artifacts in an exhibit about space. Due to poor planning, the artifacts were lit
with incandescent MR16 bulbs. The small
spaces they were displayed in turned into Easy Bake Ovens and the artifacts
were cooked. One of those artifacts was
an aluminum toothpaste tube of peaches. I
knew they were peaches because there was a typewriter written label on the tube
that said, “PEACHES.” There was also a
plastic tube that would screw into the top of the aluminum tube that would
break the seal and allow those sweet, sweet peaches to go into John’s gullet. The heat from the light caused the peaches to
expand and blow out the bottom of the toothpaste tube. When we were alerted to the problem
(challenge) we cut power, extracted the artifacts from the case and sent it out
to get fiber optic lighting. Because the
peaches were homeless, I decided to give them a home in my work desk drawer.
Time passes.
At some point, that display case was upgraded to fiber optic
lighting. The artifacts were replaced
and all was well. Except the peaches remained in my office drawer. Mostly to
the back, but not so much so that I didn’t see them at least once a week. The tiny squirt of space peaches sneaking out
the bottom was frozen in physics, sneakily within the recesses of my drawer. I
knew they were there, but no one asked about them and I wasn’t about to say
anything.
About a year later, I got a call, “Do you have John Glenn’s
peaches?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. They are right here.”
“Could we have them back?”
Of course you can. Of course. I returned them and they were
placed back into the display.
And that was the end...
How dare you! How dare you ask if I tasted the peaches? The peaches
that had broken the surly bonds of earth. The peaches that survived space but
didn’t survive a week in a poorly designed, overheated cabinet. How dare you!
They were sweet, my friend. They were sweet.
Thank you, John Glenn. Thank you.
Before and After
What is your best before and after memory? A memory of a
time where you did not have a thing or maybe you had an expectations of a thing and then the thing happened and then
there was the after. Right now, I assume
there are many Trump fans who had a very deep desire to have him elected and
then there was the election and then there is the after. The Before and After.
I’m going to immediately negate marriage and having children
because those memories are the greatest ever and they can never be outdone and
blah blah blah happiness. Blah. Blah. Blah. Happiness.
What is a something that you had great expectations of, and
then it happened, all your expectations were met and then now you live with the
memory of how great they were?
Mine is U2’s The Joshua Tree.
In 1987, I was a seventeen years old boy. I knew very little
about music. I listened to the local pop
station on the radio. Our family did not
have cable, so I didn’t have access to MTV, which by this time was starting to
tap into the Alternative Music market. I
think I owned an El DeBarge 45 of ‘Rhythm of the Night’ and a cassette of Men
at Work’s ‘Business as Usual.’ Again, I admit that I knew very little about
music.
But not Dave and Doug.
The twins from my class seemed to have excellent taste in alternative
music. They’d talk about The Dead
Milkmen and Morrissey and U2 and XTC and New Order. They would debate song lyrics and I would
pretend like I had heard them and make up my own analysis. I had no idea.
In 1987 Doug and Dave were absolutely fucking on edge (on
Edge?) about this new U2 album, The Joshua Tree. They had copies of Rolling Stone with articles
about the release. They drew images of
the Joshua Tree on their book covers.
They counted down to its release. They waited.
I was excited for them.
I was familiar with U2 and I’m sure I had heard their music
somewhere. Right?
And then the album was released. Fucking Dave and Doug were absolutely
blown away. So was I. I didn’t know anything about music and I think I only
remember liking about half of the album when it came out. Thinking that some of
it was really good. Thinking some of it was just OK.
Time passes.
You might be a naysayer, but I think The Joshua Tree is one
of the Top 10 Albums of all time. I’d
stick it in the top 3 because not much changes, and, like I said, I still
really don’t know much about music. It’s a great album. I can stick it in the CD player or put it on
repeat on iTunes and listen to it for 30 hours straight. It’s very good. Just ask Doug or Dave.
And here I am. An observer of the time before The Joshua Tree
and of the time after. There was a time
in my life where “Where the Streets Have No Name” did not exist. And then it
did. It’s my before and after. What is your before and after?
Sick of Political Ads? New device can block commercials.
Columbus (FD) - By now you are probably fatigued from all the political commercial bombardment. A company out of Columbus, OH has a revolutionary idea for television viewers who are tired of the constant barrage of political commercials, especially after they have voted. Political Subtract is a scanner from that can read the barcode on an absentee ballot or early voting ballot and get rid of those crappy commercials in a snap.
YouSkanTech Company President, Eric Stands explains the product, “Many of us are patriotic voters and watch the initial political ads with a keen interest. But after you have voted, the commercials are just a waste of time and quite frankly a bit fucking annoying. Political Subtract allows you to scan the barcode from your absentee ballot and any future political commercial on your television will be replaced by the programming of your choice.”
The technology is very simple. Viewers purchase the Political Subtract scanner and connect it to their existing cable box. Once their ballot is scanned, they are given a choice of what programming they would like to be shown in place of the political ads. Viewers can choose from a varity of programming such as sports, comedy or bunny.
And there are other alternative programming choices as well.
Mr. Stands has big plans for the half hour Trump commercial which is scheduled to air later this month, “We are going to loop the Seinfeld/Green Day ‘Time of Your Life’ video montage and the ‘Mr. Hooper is dead’ ending from Sesame Street. Those both really choke me up.”
Cost for the unit is $250 and it is good through the 2020 elections when Rick Santorum will be running again. Mr. Stands added, “Or for $10,000 you can just buy the unit with a hack that allows you to skip the commercials outright without having to vote.”
So far they have sold 134 million units.
YouSkanTech Company President, Eric Stands explains the product, “Many of us are patriotic voters and watch the initial political ads with a keen interest. But after you have voted, the commercials are just a waste of time and quite frankly a bit fucking annoying. Political Subtract allows you to scan the barcode from your absentee ballot and any future political commercial on your television will be replaced by the programming of your choice.” The technology is very simple. Viewers purchase the Political Subtract scanner and connect it to their existing cable box. Once their ballot is scanned, they are given a choice of what programming they would like to be shown in place of the political ads. Viewers can choose from a varity of programming such as sports, comedy or bunny.
And there are other alternative programming choices as well.
Mr. Stands has big plans for the half hour Trump commercial which is scheduled to air later this month, “We are going to loop the Seinfeld/Green Day ‘Time of Your Life’ video montage and the ‘Mr. Hooper is dead’ ending from Sesame Street. Those both really choke me up.”
Cost for the unit is $250 and it is good through the 2020 elections when Rick Santorum will be running again. Mr. Stands added, “Or for $10,000 you can just buy the unit with a hack that allows you to skip the commercials outright without having to vote.”
So far they have sold 134 million units.
Airline Requires Passengers to Use the Restroom Before Boarding Plane to Reduce Weight
CHICAGO (FD) - American Airlines announced a cost savings measure
today that has passengers up in arms and they are literally not taking it
sitting down. Airlines have been cutting fuel costs by reducing weight on
planes through baggage restrictions and cutting back on provided amenities such
as food and blankets. Hawaiian Airlines is currently under investigation for forcing passengers to be weighed and made to change seats to distribute weight. Courts have struck down attempts to charge passengers by
the pound so a different route was required.
In a drastic
effort to cut down on plane weight, American Airlines is requiring that all passengers
use the bathroom before boarding the plane. Special porta-potties are being
brought into Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport for a trial run of the
elimination requirement.
 |
| Passengers are instructed on how to use the porta potty measuring device |
Passengers were
not at all pleased with the new requirement. “I’m not ten years old,” remarked
an anonymous passenger. Steven Bosch, 32, of Evansville, IN stated, “I just
used the facilities before I went through security. Now I have to try to go
again?”
American Airlines
spokeswoman, Jeannette Spencer, attempted to quell much of the concerned
public. “This is in the best interest for all our customers. Not only does it
reduce fuel usage and lower costs, but it also reduces the lines for the
bathroom on the plane at the gate and once it is in the air. We estimate that
each year, 10,374 hours are wasted at the gate while our customers use the
on-plane lavatory causing takeoff delays. This will ensure that everyone has
already gone before the flight departs.”
Passengers must
use the facilities at least twenty minutes prior to leaving and will not be
allowed to board unless they have “tried to go” at least twice. Receipts are
provided at the facilities for proof of deposit.
As a bonus,
passengers who eliminate more than two pounds of waste will receive a refund
for every additional six ounces deposited. Mark Crawler of Byhalia, Mississippi
has taken full advantage of the situation, “I ate like a champ last night and
made sure I had bran flakes and a bunch of coffee this morning and wah-la, $25
in poop-ons”.
Ms. Spencer
commented, “We don’t officially call them poop-ons, but rather certificates of
deposit.”
The test program
will continue though the end of this year.
How to get your reluctant boyfriend to propose
I’ve seen it before. You and your boyfriend have been dating for a year or so. You are looking for him to propose and he’s happy with how things are going. Little does he realize that things are about to be going really shitty if he doesn’t buy a ring and get on a knee. Here are some helpful hints to get your boyfriend to propose to you:
Burn down his house
You’ve probably been spending a lot of time together, but you both still keep your own residences. What Mr. Happy needs is a good house burning. When all his clothes and Sandman graphic novels are ashes, he’s going to be vulnerable and he’s going to need you more than ever. Over time, finding a new place would just be a hassle. He’ll see you with new eyes. In a few weeks, when the insurance check comes, I can assure you that he’s use some of the proceeds to buy a ring.
Talk about his brother or best friend
Guys are jealous fucks. They think about your ex-boyfriends and they think about the other two (yeah right) guys you’ve had sex with. Guys assume that you are having sex with your co-workers and than on girls' night you get drunk and blow guys at the club. All guys do it. If you start talking about his friends or his brothers, he’ll start to imagine that you are hot for them. Competition is tough between friends and family and to prove to them that he is top dog, he’ll pop the question to lay ownership over you.
Play online games with voice chat
Your boyfriend will think it is great that you play online games. He'll probably spend a lot of time on your couch playing your system. You'll probably play a lot of games together which is wonderful for relationship building. But after two years of his ass on your couch, you'll want to step up your game. Literally. Start playing games that require you to use voice chat. In game, most guys have stupid usernames like BigDick33 and HumpingYouLeg. Once your boyfriend starts hearing you say, "Nice moves, BigDick" or "Good save, HumpMyLeg," he'll begin to think that maybe it's time to seal the deal and ensure you don't run off with some Orc Shaman from Toledo.
Buy a pet together and then “lose” it
Simple and diabolical. Find someone who sells pets, but has a 30 day return policy. Buy the pet and make sure you suggest that since he hasn’t proposed, this will help you to emotionally handle the situation. He’ll be relieved that the engagement pressure is off. One day while he’s off at Best Buy, return the pet to the vendor and suggest you have allergies. When he comes home, he’ll find the house frantically torn up and you crying that Mrs. Krinkle has disappeared. Between sobs, make sure you drop a few hints about how much the pet meant to you and that your feelings of emptiness will never be filled. Give it a week and he’ll pull the old “Propose by tying the ring on the new puppy’s collar” trick. Sucker.
Become a stripper
This one is two fold. First off, guys dig strippers. To think they could actually marry one would be huge. Secondly, if the rage of jealously doesn’t make a ring appear, you’ll make enough money to buy your own ring. Why was it you were dating this guy in the first place? What are you doing later? Is Trixie your real name?
Burn down his house
You’ve probably been spending a lot of time together, but you both still keep your own residences. What Mr. Happy needs is a good house burning. When all his clothes and Sandman graphic novels are ashes, he’s going to be vulnerable and he’s going to need you more than ever. Over time, finding a new place would just be a hassle. He’ll see you with new eyes. In a few weeks, when the insurance check comes, I can assure you that he’s use some of the proceeds to buy a ring.
Talk about his brother or best friend
Guys are jealous fucks. They think about your ex-boyfriends and they think about the other two (yeah right) guys you’ve had sex with. Guys assume that you are having sex with your co-workers and than on girls' night you get drunk and blow guys at the club. All guys do it. If you start talking about his friends or his brothers, he’ll start to imagine that you are hot for them. Competition is tough between friends and family and to prove to them that he is top dog, he’ll pop the question to lay ownership over you.
Play online games with voice chat
Your boyfriend will think it is great that you play online games. He'll probably spend a lot of time on your couch playing your system. You'll probably play a lot of games together which is wonderful for relationship building. But after two years of his ass on your couch, you'll want to step up your game. Literally. Start playing games that require you to use voice chat. In game, most guys have stupid usernames like BigDick33 and HumpingYouLeg. Once your boyfriend starts hearing you say, "Nice moves, BigDick" or "Good save, HumpMyLeg," he'll begin to think that maybe it's time to seal the deal and ensure you don't run off with some Orc Shaman from Toledo.
Buy a pet together and then “lose” it
Simple and diabolical. Find someone who sells pets, but has a 30 day return policy. Buy the pet and make sure you suggest that since he hasn’t proposed, this will help you to emotionally handle the situation. He’ll be relieved that the engagement pressure is off. One day while he’s off at Best Buy, return the pet to the vendor and suggest you have allergies. When he comes home, he’ll find the house frantically torn up and you crying that Mrs. Krinkle has disappeared. Between sobs, make sure you drop a few hints about how much the pet meant to you and that your feelings of emptiness will never be filled. Give it a week and he’ll pull the old “Propose by tying the ring on the new puppy’s collar” trick. Sucker.
Become a stripper
This one is two fold. First off, guys dig strippers. To think they could actually marry one would be huge. Secondly, if the rage of jealously doesn’t make a ring appear, you’ll make enough money to buy your own ring. Why was it you were dating this guy in the first place? What are you doing later? Is Trixie your real name?
reddit: Writing Prompt - 4th Grade Cult Status
(Author's Note: the website reddit has a subreddit called Writing Prompts. Users suggest a topic and writers write. I decided to try it. The prompt for this story was:
""
I realize now that I didn't fully read the prompt or fully remember it. Doesn't matter, I wrote this below.
4th Grade Cult Status
I wasn't trying to avoid the six work emails I had to write.
But I was finding other things to keep my mind off not thinking about thinking
about it. So the bills were paid. Desktop clean. Computer desktop clean. Fuzz
from mouse removed. Into the bin. Trash bin emptied. Computer trash can
emptied. Email maintenance! Delete and sort. Sort and delete. Hey... the junk
email folder. I don't think I've ever cleaned that out. Open.
1,500 emails. Hours of work avoidance!
The junk emails seemed to be from many of the same websites,
so sorting by FROM made it easy to get rid of 85% of them. For a moment, I
almost clicked on DELETE ALL, but I didn't and kept sorting through. I found an
email with a code for a game I hadn't played in months. No expiration date...
move to INBOX. Already this was worth it.
DEACTIVATION NOTICE.
That email looked important. I'm not
sure why my junk folder swallowed it. It was dated from eight years ago!
Scanning, my eye caught the word "tits" in the username
"TitsMcG33." My computer sees tits and it goes right in the junk
folder.
The email said that my account on some website had not been
used in four years and my account would be frozen. I did not recognize the
website, though I do remember that TitsMcG33 or some variation of it was my go
to username when I was younger. I did the math in my head. And then I did it
again. Twelve years ago? I would have been in 4th grade? That seems awfully
young to be using the word tits. Now I was curious.
I clicked the link and it failed to open. I went directly to
the website and it was like seeing a 90s movie version of a website. Three
colors. Lots of text. No images...
And then it hit me... fourth grade. That would have been
when moved to the new house. Mom and dad were gone for work a lot then and
grandma watched us, or didn't watch us, as we had free rein all over the
internet. My brother got busted downloading music and the computers were locked
down with parental software after that. That might be why I didn't log back
into this site.
On a whim, I searched for "titsmcg33" in the area
that had the only photo on the site, a magnifying glass.
Three million results. Three million plus results for the
word titsmcg33.
I clicked the first one: "I'm not sure what I would
have done without him."
Further down the page: "Hero doesn't even begin to
describe him.
What guidance will he provide next week?"
Later: "The answers were hidden right in front of me,
but he made me see them."
Result after result. Hero. Genius. Savior? Some dated from
ten years ago. Some from last week. Each one praising me. Idolizing me. After
reading through some of the comments, I noticed they were referring to me as
TMG33, probably to hide the tits part. When I searched for TMG33 on the site,
there were eight million more results.
This was insane.
It finally hit me to sort by date, and in the oldest results
I found my posts. There were five of them. A list of words in each one. They
all went something like this:
hidden
away
find
deep
question
without
empty
yourself
panthers
truth
alive
Reading them now, the words seemed like some cryptic poetry.
Each set of words, some kind of secret roadmap to happiness. I re-read the
words and did start to feel their hidden meaning. That maybe things weren't so
bad. That I could be a better person if only I tried harder. There was some
kind of greater good in the world!
Panthers. Panthers? What deep meaning did this word have
with all the others?
And then I remembered. Panthers was our grade school mascot.
And in grade school, in fourth grade, when I didn't know any better and didn't
have really anything to say on the internet, I posted my spelling words on a
website. And without an explanation, people created their own meaning.
And I became a god.
My Glasses
Nine years ago I went to an eye appointment. I am nearsighted (slightly blind) and wear contacts. I also wear glasses when I’m not wearing the contacts. Because I do not wear my glasses out in public, I really do not care what the frames look like. So when the sales lady at the glasses store pointed me towards the $150 frames which were next to the $250 frames, I pointed at the small rack of forgotten, dusty frames in the corner.
“How much are those frames?”
“Those? Um, they vary. The prices are marked on a sticker on the arm.”
I found a pair for $40. “I’ll take them.” She was not impressed.
My wife was not impressed either when I brought them home a few weeks later. But I didn’t care. I only would wear them in the mornings for a few minutes.
So for nine years my glasses have gathered dust, worn only five or six times a year. I was actually hoping that if I waited long enough, they might come back in fashion.
But then we put a television in our bedroom and everything has changed. I’ll put the sleep timer on the television and fall asleep to thirty minutes of Comedy Central. To do so, I must wear my glasses. Most the time, I remove them at the last minute before falling asleep. Other times I wake up in the middle of the night with them still on and I remove them. And sometimes I find them in the bed or on the floor the next morning.
Six months ago I found them in the bed and on the floor. Like a mother panda, I rolled over on my glasses in the middle of the night and they broke at the bridge. I tried to glue them, but there wasn’t enough material and there was too much torque for them to hold. I tried watching TV at night with one side held down to the side of my head by gravity and the other held up, wedged between my head and the pillow. That worked as long as I didn’t move which didn’t work at all.
Miss Sally suggested on several occasions that I should get new frames and that she would go with me this time to help me decide (i.e. pick them out for me.) I said I would, but never have… because I fixed my glasses!
Using a brightly colored pencil with smiley faces on it and tape, I MacGyver-ize them back into perfect working order.
Here is a photo of them:
Just like new!!
I have only made it downstairs with these on a few times when I didn't want to put my contacts in. And they have only been outside once when I went to get the mail. My neighbor was mowing his lawn and did not look up to see me.
I am surprised that Miss Sally has not thrown them in the trash. She broke our honored oath of marriage when she mentioned the glasses to a co-worker which is why I am posting this now. I think Miss Sally realizes that the only way go get me to buy new frames is to watch me embarrass myself to the general public.
So here you go:
New glasses? Who needs new glasses! These work just fine.
I'm thinking about sharpening the pencil so that I can write down and remember my very special dreams.
“How much are those frames?”
“Those? Um, they vary. The prices are marked on a sticker on the arm.”
I found a pair for $40. “I’ll take them.” She was not impressed.
My wife was not impressed either when I brought them home a few weeks later. But I didn’t care. I only would wear them in the mornings for a few minutes.
So for nine years my glasses have gathered dust, worn only five or six times a year. I was actually hoping that if I waited long enough, they might come back in fashion.
But then we put a television in our bedroom and everything has changed. I’ll put the sleep timer on the television and fall asleep to thirty minutes of Comedy Central. To do so, I must wear my glasses. Most the time, I remove them at the last minute before falling asleep. Other times I wake up in the middle of the night with them still on and I remove them. And sometimes I find them in the bed or on the floor the next morning.
Six months ago I found them in the bed and on the floor. Like a mother panda, I rolled over on my glasses in the middle of the night and they broke at the bridge. I tried to glue them, but there wasn’t enough material and there was too much torque for them to hold. I tried watching TV at night with one side held down to the side of my head by gravity and the other held up, wedged between my head and the pillow. That worked as long as I didn’t move which didn’t work at all.
Miss Sally suggested on several occasions that I should get new frames and that she would go with me this time to help me decide (i.e. pick them out for me.) I said I would, but never have… because I fixed my glasses!
Using a brightly colored pencil with smiley faces on it and tape, I MacGyver-ize them back into perfect working order.
Here is a photo of them:
Just like new!!
I have only made it downstairs with these on a few times when I didn't want to put my contacts in. And they have only been outside once when I went to get the mail. My neighbor was mowing his lawn and did not look up to see me.
I am surprised that Miss Sally has not thrown them in the trash. She broke our honored oath of marriage when she mentioned the glasses to a co-worker which is why I am posting this now. I think Miss Sally realizes that the only way go get me to buy new frames is to watch me embarrass myself to the general public.
So here you go:
New glasses? Who needs new glasses! These work just fine.
I'm thinking about sharpening the pencil so that I can write down and remember my very special dreams.
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