Dear Dad,
It has been a life long dream of mine to own the cheapest versions of all the cool things rich people have. Over the years I have accumulated many ‘cool’ pieces of crap. Homeless people have long been envious of me. It’s to be expected, everyone loves a treasure hunter. I thoroughly enjoy my life as king of the lower middle class.
I bought a boat this week. It is called a ‘Bass Raider 8.’ Not because it is the eighth model of a bad-ass bass boat, but because it is eight feet long. Essentially it is a rectangular canoe. It has two highly placed swivel seats and an electric trolling motor. While I don’t dock it at the local marina, I truly couldn’t be happier with myself. I can’t wait to do some raiding!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Flushed but Not Forgotten
Dear Dad,
Too long have we men labored under the delusion that in our homes there lies in wait a throne. A cool porcelain seat, surrounded by four soundproof walls through which no nagging hails can pierce. A place of solitude and peace. A room where the magazines rule and time has no meaning. Well, it DOES NOT EXIST! This scrap of suburban lore has been smited like the dragons of old. The throne rooms of our forefathers are overrun by piles of dirty laundry and yellow bathtub ducks. Ducks that mock the precious few moments we have to ourselves. No matter how many times we gather the laundry and stomp on those ridiculous ducks, the next day will find more mildewing pairs of toddler whitey tighties and a smiling, squeaking, water squirting damn duck! A truer tale about man and his throne should be told.
Too long have we men labored under the delusion that in our homes there lies in wait a throne. A cool porcelain seat, surrounded by four soundproof walls through which no nagging hails can pierce. A place of solitude and peace. A room where the magazines rule and time has no meaning. Well, it DOES NOT EXIST! This scrap of suburban lore has been smited like the dragons of old. The throne rooms of our forefathers are overrun by piles of dirty laundry and yellow bathtub ducks. Ducks that mock the precious few moments we have to ourselves. No matter how many times we gather the laundry and stomp on those ridiculous ducks, the next day will find more mildewing pairs of toddler whitey tighties and a smiling, squeaking, water squirting damn duck! A truer tale about man and his throne should be told.
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