We have a hamster called Richard that just has to be sneaking anabolic steroids in from somewhere because that fluffy little bastard just will not stop growing. The other evening, I watched him running on his little wheel, and his nose was literally up his own ass so I decided he needed a new crib. I headed off to Pet Forum in Seminole Square (think Marshalls, Big Lots and Office Depot) on a mission to find an overpriced piece of fucking plastic junk, and that’s when I saw it. Big, white and flapping around in the wind (no Shen, not my arse) the sign on 29S said, “GRAND OPENING Asian Fusion Buffet Sushi and Grill”. It was right beside the pet shop. It was lunchtime. It was new. I needed a pee, so the decision was made. As I walked up, several cops came out. My four-year-old shrieked at a decibel rating that has to be illegal, ” OH NO…IT’S THE COPS”. They smiled indulgently at her as she made a crucifix with her index fingers and brandished it at them so thanks baby Daddy for that little parlor trick.

»Read More

All this recent talk of blind dates and beer goggles got me thinking about some of my nightmare dates from hell. I think the singles scene is such a great source of hilarious stories,so let us throw a few out there for fun. Here is my favorite to begin, and may celestial lightening zap me in the ass, this is a true story:
»Read More

My current car is wonderful, but about to lose its original warranty and since it is ridiculously over-engineered that means one thing… 132 miles after the warranty expires, it will turn into the bastard lemon car from hell and leave me stranded in the rain on a blind bend at 1am- without a cell phone signal forcing me to go knocking on the door of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre house. It will happen.I know.

I paid for an after market warranty but they require 3 weeks notice in triplicate by recorded albino elf delivery to get prior authorization for a replacement spark plug and will dodge out of paying any claim if you missed a service by 1 mile or failed to take the candy wrappers out of the ashtray. They are bastards. I know.

So the hunt begins for a replacement, and that means talking to car salespeople.

“May I take your number, in case we get disconnected? Area code first…..”

It seemed like an innocuous enough request. After all, getting cut off while on the phone does happen…. not often but on the odd occasion. So I doled out the requisite digits and the conversation continued. I was on the phone to Carmax at Pantops…but inquiring about a car at another location. He asked me if I wanted to initiate a transfer…. for the princely sum of $149 non refundable dollars.

Me: “$149? But I haven’t seen it .. what if I don’t like it or it has a big sploodge stain on the back seat?”

Him: ” You’ll love it… all I need is a credit card and it’s yours”

Me: “I no longer give my creddies out by phone” (NOTE:I had my Chase card number stolen recently. And they bought nicer things than I do and Chase were even kind enough to let them go $1500 over my limit)

Him: “If you initiate the transfer, then the vehicle is reserved. It’s a rare car….SOMEONE COULD BE BUYING IT AS WE SPEAK!!!” (Definite octave increase in voice) »Read More