Gummy Bear

Larry,

Look what we did on our honeymoon! I know that I told you already but I wanted to show you the very first picture that we have of our offspring. Mil says it looks like a gummy bear. She's also told us that we should get a t-shirt for the little guy/girl that says "Made In Costa Rica". Good idea for a baby shower gift. Joey called it a peanut. I'm thinking that there's something wrong with it's head. It's bulbous. It looks large to me. But I'm no doctor. We'll know more in 9 weeks-at least sex-wise. I'll be sure and drop you a line.

Paul

Old People

Larry,

Good afternoon, sir. I hope that you are well on this fine December day. Me? Good. My fingers are cold. Nothing else. Just the fingers. Weird.

Hey, I wanted to tell you a story. Actually, not really a story. Just an anecdote. Well, if an anecdote is a story, then by gosh, this is a story. Last night, I went to see Anna's grandparents at their retirement community. Anna's mom called me last week and asked me if I would go. Apparently, it's sort of a show and tell for the old people. The way Anna's mom put it, it was a chance for the old folks to show off their family members. I missed most of what she was talking about but when I heard "free food", I agreed to come, even though Anna would be out of town. Solo trips are typically not for me. But I thought that it might be fun so last night, I went. Here are some things of note that happened while I was there.

1. I sat between Anna's mother and grandmother. While they talked, I shoved food in my mouth while at the same time moving plates so as to be out of range of the talk spittle. I took a couple of shots in the face, I'm sure. It was important for me to spare the food though. The face can be washed. Food-not so much. I'm sure I looked like a famished shell game grifter, sliding plates to and fro.

2. Mary and I got our pictures taken by a photographer working for The Best of Times, a monthly newspaper for the over 50 crowd. After we posed for the camera and wrote our names down for the caption, should we make next month's edition, I turned and immediately wished I could have that picture back. Facing a mirrored wall, I noticed that one side of the collar lie inside of the blazer and one collar sat awkwardly outside the confines of the blazer's collar. Old people everywhere are going to think I'm a fool. NUTS!

3. I decided to walk Mary out to her car. As we were headed out, we trailed a couple of young woman that we're also departing and as we moved from the lobby to the vestibule, I said, "I smell like Old People". You should have seen the look of horror and disgust on this girls face. It was awesome! I told her that I was only kidding. Sadly, I don't think that Mary heard it at all. Or else, she too was horrified. Maybe, that's the last event I get invited to without adult supervision. One can only hope.

Actually, I had a very good time. It was a little painful watching the labored dancing of the septuagenarians, but I couldn't stop smiling and tapping my feet as I watched these old cats get jiggy to the Christmas music. Well, there was this one old lady that was all hunched over at the buffet and I was sure that she was going to drool into the cocktail sauce but I looked away. Actually, I looked away only to discover that a young girl nearby was alertly watching the exact same thing.

So, to sum up: Good times. Old people are fun and they don't smell so bad afterall.

Paul

TV

Larry,

Hey, I don't know what kind of music you like but if you were ever curious about new music, I have a suggestion...tv on the radio. They are, I've decided, the coolest band ever. Their sound is hard to describe but unforgettable once you've been subjected to it. And on their latest album, they're doing some things with white noise that I find very titilating. Return to Cookie Mountain, their new album, is great. It's all that I've been listening to for weeks now. In fact, at first I was in love with tracks 6 and 8. Over and over I would listen to them. I was so retarded back then. But then I realized that I loved all of the even tracks. So bizarre. What's even weirder than that is that I accidentally discovered only a week or so ago that I actually enjoyed the odd tracks better. Odd is better. Anyway, I thought that you might like a listen.

I told my high school chum Kevin that I thought that he'd enjoy these guys. I wonder if he ever gave them a listen. People that don't listen to tv on the radio are the saddest people in the world.

Happy Weekend.

Paul

Oh, here are those songs that I was telling you about earlier.

Track 6: The Method
Track 8: Dirtywhirl

Jobs

Larry,

How's it going, old timer? I'm doing well. Just wanted to say hello. Let you know about some exciting things happening in my little world. Or, should I say, "Little World"? That joke never gets old.

Anna goes for her first ultra sound tomorrow. I think that I'm going to tag along to see what the baby looks like. I'm guessing that I won't be able to tell very much of anything but it will satisfy my curiosity.

I got a Wii last week. It's Wii-ly fun. Although, I think that I pulled a muscle playing so much; (the bicep, if you were wondering).

I think that Vietnam would have been a much more popular war had the turning point of said war been known as the Tit Offensive. It takes on a totally different meaning but, trust me, you would have loved it.

I thought of a sketch for SNL or even for Studio 60. I call it Pagan Girls Gone Wild. It practically writes itself. Nothing hotter than a Goth Girl flashing (boobs) and slashing (throats of livestock).

Oh, yeah. I'm thinking that I want to look for a new job. Not earnestly but in a very casual manner. I've made my resume public so maybe someone will happen along and find it and call me and offer me something that I will love. You can check it out here. If you know anyone that's looking, send them my way. Not opposed to relocating. Places that I would consider: TiVo, Anheiser-Busch, ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX, UPN, HBO, AOL/Time Warner, Victoria's Secret, Oprah. Actually, I'm pretty open at this point.

So, not much of a point. Just wanted to say hello.

Oh, I'm reading a book right now that I can't get anyone to agree to read after I'm finished. However, I think that it's great and everyone should have to read it at some point in their lives. It's called The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. A must-read. And I mean it-you MUST! It's about Atheism.

Speaking of which, Anna and I had to drop by the grocery store on Sunday and pick up a couple of items. Actually, I went to the grocery store while Anna took a detour over to Hallmark. As I was entering Kroger, there were a group of ladies stationed in the lobby taking donations for something that felt church-related. I cut her off pretty quickly as she accosted me. "I'm an atheist", I said flatly as I sauntered by her. I've never seen someone look so horrified in my whole life. And I've done some horrible things. And I wasnt even serious. The Christians really have to lighten up a bit, I think.

Finally, I quit smoking. What a relief. I never thought that I'd get that monkey off my back. Thanks, Chantix!

Talk soon,

Paul

Fridays

Larry,

It's been too long. I've been prodded into writing by my persistent neighbors. I gave in, reluctantly, even though you 1) did not show up for the wedding and 2) did not send a gift. Shame on you, sir.

All is forgiven. I haven't much time but I did want to share a couple of things with you before I go home for the long-overdue weekend.

Last night, I was preparing to see the doctor. You remember, Dr. Tu, right? Anyway, I had stripped down to my boxers when I suddenly decided that I needed some water. So, I ran out into the living room and into the kitchen to snag a bottle from the fridge when the doorbell rang. I froze. The path from the kitchen to the bathroom is visible from the front door. So, I thought, I'll just dart through the living room and if they see me, then they see me. I ran back to the bedroom and put all my clothes back on, and then hustled to the front door to see who it was. It was 3 kids selling subscriptions to the Commercial Appeal, our local newspaper. They started in with their spiel and I said, in sort of a country accent, "Commercial Appeal? Is that like a religious cult?". They laughed and explained that it was, in fact, a newspaper and further, that by buying a subscription, I'd be helping one of them pay for college. I immediately informed them, after my little joke, that I wasn't interested in the tripe that they were selling but that I appreciated them asking. They, still reeling from my amazing little one act, thanked me for doing something out of the ordinary and making their visit to my place different. "Different", I said, "Did you just see me run through the house half-naked?"

Silence. They left, hurriedly, mumbling things that I didn't want to hear. I sure know how to kill a party.

Speaking of killing, I was cutting up a tomato the other night with an awesome Cutco knife and I sliced my thumb up pretty bad. This is, by itself, uninteresting. However, today I was in the locker room, changing when I reopened the nasty laceration. It started to bleed profusely. I had one shoe on and one shoe off-I had just gotten out of the shower-so I hopped over to the paper towel dispenser to attempt to stop the bleeding. Just then Dave S. was getting out of the shower. I'm hopping around on one foot with blood dripping from my digits. So, naturally he asks what happened. And I said very calmly, "I cut myself...on purpose". You should have seen the look on his face. Priceless.

Cutters are fascinating, by the way.

I've got some more stuff for you and I'll get it to you this weekend.

Paul

Positive

Larry,

Guess what? Anna's pregnant! I know that it's customary to wait some time before telling people but I wanted you to know. You are the 7th person to know officially. I hope that we aren't tempting fate by spilling the beans early. Here's my chance to prove my theory about Karma. Basically, I think that I've done so much bad in my life, nothing good will ever happen to me ever again. We'll see. I'll keep you posted. And I didn't forget about you either. I'll be sending you some stuff about Costa Rica soon. Oh, and we've got the wedding pictures as well. You can take a gander at those here. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed being in them. Sarcasm, meet Larry. Larry, sarcasm.

Paul

GOP Candidate List for 2006

--AZ-Sen: Jon Kyl

--AZ-01: Rick Renzi

--AZ-05: J.D. Hayworth

--CA-04: John Doolittle

--CA-11: Richard Pombo

--CA-50: Brian Bilbray

--CO-04: Marilyn Musgrave

--CO-05: Doug Lamborn

--CO-07: Rick O'Donnell

--CT-04: Christopher Shays

--FL-13: Vernon Buchanan

--FL-16: Joe Negron

--FL-22: Clay Shaw

--ID-01: Bill Sali

--IL-06: Peter Roskam

--IL-10: Mark Kirk

--IL-14: Dennis Hastert

--IN-02: Chris Chocola

--IN-08: John Hostettler

--IA-01: Mike Whalen

--KS-02: Jim Ryun

--KY-03: Anne Northup

--KY-04: Geoff Davis

--MD-Sen: Michael Steele

--MN-01: Gil Gutknecht

--MN-06: Michele Bachmann

--MO-Sen: Jim Talent

--MT-Sen: Conrad Burns

--NV-03: Jon Porter

--NH-02: Charlie Bass

--NJ-07: Mike Ferguson

--NM-01: Heather Wilson

--NY-03: Peter King

--NY-20: John Sweeney

--NY-26: Tom Reynolds

--NY-29: Randy Kuhl

--NC-08: Robin Hayes

--NC-11: Charles Taylor

--OH-01: Steve Chabot

--OH-02: Jean Schmidt

--OH-15: Deborah Pryce

--OH-18: Joy Padgett

--PA-04: Melissa Hart

--PA-07: Curt Weldon

--PA-08: Mike Fitzpatrick

--PA-10: Don Sherwood

--RI-Sen: Lincoln Chafee

--TN-Sen: Bob Corker

--VA-Sen: George Allen

--VA-10: Frank Wolf

--WA-Sen: Mike McGavick

--WA-08: Dave Reichert

Payphone Hacks

Larry,

I know that you are anxious to hear about the honeymoon in Costa Rica. Fear not, old friend. Several posts are forthcoming.

Before I delve into the best honeymoon ever, I thought that I'd share with you my little stroll down memory lane.

For some reason, yesterday I got to thinking about Didi Black. You don't know her. I worked with her at Bennigan's (the worst restaurant chain on the planet Earth [and beyond]) and we quickly became friends. Honestly, I had a crush on her from the moment I met her. Alas, the feelings were not mutual so I pined from afar. And, at times, from very nearby. Regardless, she came to work one day and told me about a payphone hack that someone had told her about. She said that it had to be on a payphone with red on the exterior. You had to go to one of those payphones, call 1-800-Playtex, listen to a short message, and then the phone would disconnect. However, the disconnect would leave the line open, at which point you could make a long-distance call for free. I employed this method several times and was always rewarded. Thanks, Didi!

So, yesterday I was bored and I called (from my work phone) 1-800-Platex to see if the message was still there and, much to my surprise, a man answered. I, caught off guard, asked for Playtex and was met with a very, very surly, "Try playtex.com!" Apparently, Mr. 1-800-Playtex gets calls like this all the time. I guess he should have checked before he got that 800 number.

More soon.

Paul

Evil Mom, continued

Larry,

Today is your lucky day. I've got more exciting things to tell you about my very dull and uncomplicated life.

On Friday, I uncovered more evidence that my mother may be the devil.

I was out walking Xander on Friday afternoon and I stopped by my mom's place to have a diet coke and talk with her a bit. She told me that she'd had a rough day at work. Playing the part of concerned son, I asked her for details. She's a nurse and she currently works for a company that provides home hospice care for people. For the past year, she's been caring for Judy, a mentally retarded woman. It sounds cool, I know. Sadly, Judy has the mental capacity of a 5 year old. This is problematic for my mother at times because Judy likes to play practical jokes, be disagreeable, and basically act like a child. Every day, my mom has to take Judy's vitals and document them. Friday, she was using a digital thermometer to take Judy's temperature. However, Judy was not cooperating. Normally, one inserts the thermometer under the tongue and then the instrument beeps when it has a reading. After 15 minutes without a beep, my mom questioned Judy. She didn't go into details but when I asked her what happened, she said that she basically tore Judy a new one. I think that she actually used those words. She said that after she had gone off on Judy for being difficult, Judy panicked and begged my mom to not forget to feed her. I listened, incredulous, as she told her tale. I believe that she was prepared to skip one of Judy's meals as punishment.

As far as I know, she fed her anyway.

Maybe she's not evil.

Talk soon,

Paul

Desperation

Larry,

Hey buddy. How the heck are you? It's been a while. I haven't had much going on but darn it if I can find the time to write you like I should.

I am pathetic. I realize this on a daily basis. The story that I am about to tell you illustrates this point perfectly.

Two weekends ago, Anna and I went out to dinner with Jen and Diego. It was a farewell dinner of sorts as Diego was leaving the country for six months. We went to Houston's. The food is great but what really impresses me about the joint is the waitstaff. They are meticulous. This makes for a really enjoyable dining experience.

Anna and Jen ordered the Ahi Tuna. I ordered ribs. Big mistake. When our food arrived, I immediately asked Anna for a bite of her tuna. I immediately regretted ordering the ribs. That's what I get for going for portion over taste. So, I ate my ribs, all the while ruing the fact that I didn't get the tuna. Jen had eaten most of her tuna and when she passed Diego a piece of the tuna, I knew that she was probably getting full. With 2 pieces left on her plate, I was hopeful that they would soon be mine. Unfortunately, she polished off another piece and I was no longer sure that I'd be on the receiving end of her unwanted meat. With one piece of tuna left on her plate, she and Anna excused themselves and went into the bar for an after dinner smoke. Deigo and I chit-chatted sporadically in their absence. I was distracted by tuna. Suddenly, our waiter came by and reached down as if to take Jen's plate. With desperation in my voice, I exclaimed, "Don't take it! She's not finished!" He picked up her napkin and explained to me that he was just folding her napkin. I felt a little foolish, to say the least.

When the girls returned, I slaked my tuna thirst with her seared meat and I tell you, my friend, it was heavenly.

Pathetic.

Happy Monday,

Paul

Timing is Everything

Larry,

Something's rotten in Denmark and by Denmark, I mean Memphis. I would like your opinion about something. I'm going to present you with a set of facts and then I want you to tell me what you think about what I've told you. Agreed? Let's begin:

Background: My mother is moving downtown. She's buying a house across the street. She will soon be a homeowner for the first time in her life. Pretty monumental. She has a dog named Pax (that's Latin for Peace). My mom's so smart she knows Latin. Respect. Pax is old. Maybe 11 or 12 which in dog years is probably 100. He's old; let's just leave it at that.

Timeline

3 Months Ago: My mom asks me to buy some UrineBGone. Pax is getting old and becoming incontinent. This spray, that you can only order on the Internet, is going to help get rid of the stains and the odor (this is relevant, you'll see).

Last Week: My mom tells me not to tell Anna but that she doesn't know if she's going to bring Pax with her downtown. She said that there was a woman she knows that had expressed interest in taking Pax. Mom said that her neighbor said that she was looking for an older dog. My mom was hopeful that this woman would take Pax so that she wouldn't have to make any decision at all.

Last Week (Again, but this time later in the week): I asked her if she had decided what she was going to do about Pax. She said that she was still thinking about it. I told her that I supported her if she was going to give Pax away. I mean, I couldn't really believe that she would do it but I supported her decision.

Sunday: She comes by to visit Anna and I and to take us out to Starbucks. We have Frappucino's. Mom had the Vente. That's Italian for Gi-normous. Yes, my mom's a polyglot.

Monday: Nothing happened really. I mean, some stuff happened. Nothing pertinent here.

This morning: I was using this website Jajah to prank call my mom and brother. Basically, you enter 2 numbers and the service calls and then connects both numbers. You can do it for your number and your buddy's number, but it's even funner to do it to two different people and then listen in on the ensuing conversation. Of course, I couldn't listen to my mom and brother talk. But it was funny enough imagining their conversation: "Mom, why did you call me?" "John, why did you call me?" Hilarious.

This afternoon: I was working out when I got a call from my brother. We chit-chat for a minute and then he started telling me about the weird thing that had happened to him earlier in the day-namely, that he received a phone call from mom but it was weird because she thought that he called her and he thought that she called him. Like I said, hilarious. Anyway, he tells me that mom is crying because Pax was dead. That he hadn't been feeling well so she took him to the vet on Saturday and they euthanized his ass. We saw her on Sunday, by the way. I don't remember if I had mentioned that or not. She didn't say anything about Pax.

Apparently, she is a murderer with a heart of stone.

I told John that she hadn't been sure about bringing him with her downtown. We quickly put 2 and 2 together.

What do you think? Coincidence? You be the judge.

Talk soon,

Paul

Ramblin' on my Mind

Larry,

Yesterday, I forgot to mention that part of my nightly ritual includes walking Xander for the last time. Add 15 to 30 minutes onto the already established 30 minutes and there’s a whopping hours worth of things that I have to do before I go to bed.

But that’s not what I was writing to you about. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure why I was writing. Maybe it’s just to vent. We’ll see where this takes us.

I’ve been invited to a Memphis Blogger Bash. Would it make me more or less nerdy if I were to attend? I think that I’ll wait to see what they are planning. Free food will likely be the deciding factor.

Did you read about the cat born with two faces? I heard about it last week and then Jen mentioned it yesterday. Fascinating! I saw the video of the little guy meowing and the coolest thing is that both mouths mew in unison. That’s entertainment. But then the story takes a tragic and most unappealing turn. The kitten’s master, a young boy, was asked what he wanted to name the genetic freak, and the kid responds, “Tiger”. Tiger? Tiger! The child must also be a mutant because the only name that one can give to a feline of this ilk is Two-Face. That’s it. You have to draw a line in the sand. I could possibly go with Janus but that’s a little obscure for a toddler. Two-Face. Anything else is unacceptable. I’m serious.

I’ve decided that “Have a great day” is unacceptable in polite conversation. Whether it’s bidding farewell to a friend or completing your conversation with a random customer service representative, this manner of saying goodbye is horrible. It puts entirely too much pressure on the receiver. I mean, I never have a great day-ever. I’ve had maybe 2 great days in my life. The day I was born. I would count that. Of course, I don’t remember it but to finally escape the warm, gooey, disgusting prison that was my mom’s womb, I think, must have been joyous, to say the least. On a scale from 1 to 10, most of my days are a 5…maybe a six if I had to leave work unexpectedly. Days off, depending on my agenda, are better. Even if I have to go get a cleaning at the dentist. Especially if I have to go get a cleaning at the dentist. That day is a solid 7. I don’t normally see 8 or 9 days. And a 10 would be a great day. So, when someone tells me to have a great day, they’ve done me a huge disservice. They’ve put an inordinate amount of pressure on me to do something that’s virtually impossible. Be asked to shoot a guest spot on the Spice Channel’s reality series Who Wants to be a Pornstar? That kind of thing is out of my control.

I wouldn’t do it, by the way. Too self-conscious. Talk about pressure. Imagine performing while a room full of people watch. Impossible.

Have an OK day,

Paul

Routine

Larry,

How's it going? Long time. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear that a lot. I think that I'm allergic to obligations. Work, returning phone calls, writing to my bestest friends. Get's harder and harder every day. But, in the spirit of shunning work-related obligations, I thought that I'd drop you a line. How are you? How's the better half? Kids good, I hope. All is well on this side. Summer is killing me. It's so hot here. I've been hearing a lot about Global Warming in the news recently, and you know what? They might be on to something.

This is the worst segue ever...

I've got to figure out a way to reduce the amount of time I spend in preparation for sleep. I sleep very little as it is. Six hours, usually. I think that I may have figured out the problem. My routine. Far too complicated. Here's what goes down every night for me before bedtime:

Neti Pot. Cleans out the sinuses. It's awesome. Trust me. I can't eliminate this. Never. (10 minutes)

Shower. After a long day, I need this. I can probably cut it out when it cools off. But when it's 85 degrees at 9 PM, I'm going to sweat. And if I sweat, I gotta get clean. (5 minutes)

Pre-brush rinse. (30 seconds) I do this for whitening purposes.

Brush (3 minutes) Got to brush-every day, 3 times a day. If you don't have your teeth, you are essentially a hobo. No offense to people with fake teeth. I'm sure that some of you are very productive.

Floss. I'm still working on my technique. This takes a little longer than I'd like. I start at the top, middle. Work my way back to one side. Then start at the back, on the same side. Take that all the way around. Then finish up the top row. (3 minutes)

Post-floss rinse (30 seconds) In case there is any bleeding, which normally, there is not.

Ok. That's maybe 30 minutes. Still, I feel like it takes longer. I think that I can trim that. I'm always looking for efficiencies.

I hope that all is well.

Paul

Getting Head

Larry,

How’s it going, old timer? I’ve got a wicked headache right now that’s preventing me from concentrating on just about anything. Do you watch Jeopardy? Do you know who Ken Jennings is? He’s selling a big foam likeness of his head on eBay. I just bid on it! If I win, and I doubt that I will, this will be the best $10.00 that I ever did spend.

Take care of yourself and stay classy.

Paul

Update: I wrote this yesterday and then forgot that the picture of Ken’s giant head embedded in the letter wouldn’t show up on the blog without some trickeration on my part. So, follow the link to see it.

Also, I was outbid in a matter of minutes. Currently, the highest bid is $207.50. Too rich for my blood. Proceeds go to Cancer. I didn’t know that Cancer was broke but it has apparently fallen on hard times. Wait, that’s the American Cancer Society. My fault.

Layla and the Relationship that Never Was (Update)

Larry,

What’s up buddy? I thought that I’d invite you over to www.uptownyak.com if you’d like to talk to me or any of my neighbors live and in person (sort of). We’re having a good time. Please note my tribute to Patrick Swayze and the awesome icon that represents the best movie that never got made.

And since I said that I’d have something original for you, I thought that I’d share this tidbit. My brother’s dating a girl named Layla and I thought about it for quite a while, I decided that I could never, ever date anyone named Layla. Technically, I’m barred from dating anyone indefinitely but I’m still trying to find a loophole for that rule. But I realized almost as soon as John told me her name, that if I were dating a Layla, not necessarily his, but any Layla, it would be impossible for me to go day without working Eric Clapton’s ballad into the conversation. I don’t think that it could be done. And this poses a multitude of problems but for the sake of brevity, I’ll only mention two.

First, she has no doubt heard this song a thousand times from people that thought they were being original or funny. She, I imagined, detests that song with every fiber of her being. I asked John and this is a point of fact. Layla hates Layla. Having said that, any references to that song would be out. So, if we were sitting at home one night and I found myself entertaining the idea of a snack, I couldn’t just turn to her and say (sung to the tune of Layla, of course), “Layla, would you make a sammich please. Layla, I want an extra slice of cheese, Layla”. I’m guessing that I wouldn’t get that sandwich that I so desperately needed. This poses a problem for both her and I. She’s pissed because I asked her a sandwich using the Layla song that she hates and I’m pissy because not only am I hungry, but I have to make the sandwich myself. I’ve given this a lot of thought, more probably than you could imagine, but I won’t do anymore situational examples. They get tiring.

Second, conversations between Layla and I, would be slow to evolve and perhaps even a little stilted. I believe that if she’d ask me a question, I would have to take a minute to see if there was any way I could work in the Layla song to my response. Then there’s a whole rhyming issue that I’d have to work out. What rhymes with chores? Bores, floors, doors, whores…You get the idea. Conversations would move like honey. All in all, it’d be a burden on us both.

So, John, I will not be stealing your lady. The possibility of our relationship is fraught with perils, aplenty. Rest easy, brother.

Hope that you’re doing well. See you on the Yak.

Paul    

Update: Just had an interesting conversation with my brother. I told him that I had written about Layla on the blog and he naturally inquired about the subject matter. I explained to him the gist of my letter and he said, “You want to have kids soon, right?” I said that, in fact, I did. He then told me that it would be pretty hard to care for my kids when I’m face-up in a casket.

There goes your Christmas present, assface.

Warning to all: Do not try to date, woo, court, or flirt with Layla or you may find that you meet with an unfortunate accident. Or, perhaps she needs a tattoo on her backside that states, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here”. I get the message, brother.

Paul

The Funny

Larry,

I haven't the time nor the energy to be witty or clever or amusing at the moment. I have instead elected to go to bed a bit early. However, I wanted to let you know about this guy who's blog I stumbled upon today via TV Squad. In particular, read this piece about Follow-Up Calls. It might begin slow, but the denouement is phenomenal.

Beware afraid. Be very afraid...for Rapebear lurks in darkness waiting for his next victim-or the bus-or his next victim which is a bus. Just read it.

I'll be back with some original stuff in a day or two.

Paul

Pedicure

Larry,

How goes it with you? Good weekend, I presume? Just wanted to tell you about my very first pedicure. A little too intimate, if you ask me. I mean, this Asian lady made love to my feet and calves with her soft, but firm, hands. It was pleasurable, for sure, but at the same time, difficult to enjoy. The problem, I think, was that I wasn’t sure exactly how much I was supposed to enjoy it. I had to distract myself a little so as not to enjoy it too much because I could definitely felt that I was on the verge of enjoying immensely.

Another thing that really prevented me from enjoying it as much as I should have was that this was not a typical business transaction, or at least, not one that I’m used to anyway. It’s rare that I receive a massage from the barista at Starbucks, although that might be nice, depending on who serves you. All in all, the experience was a bit askew.

Anna was pleased that I accompanied her and she didn’t have any problems relaxing and enjoying the pampering. The Asian lady and her daughter were tickled that I decided to participate in the pedicure though. They giggled and asked me if I was certain that I wanted to get them painted. Are you wondering what color I painted them? Black, of course. It goes perfect with my soul.

Plus, I read in Glamor (while waiting for my toes to dry), that black is the new white.

More soon,

Paul  

Pickles

Larry,

I know that it's been awhile. What can I say in my defense. Not jack. I'm just lazy, plain and simple. I did just find something that might amuse you. Over at Boing Boing, they pointed me over to You Tube to watch a clip from the Maury Povich show. Pretty funny but it's got to be fake. How can anyone be afraid of pickles? Clowns, I get. Heck, I'm afraid of bugs, snakes, heights, public speaking, balloons popping, anything with the capacity to fly-the list goes on. Pickles? Outrageous!

I feel better about myself after having seen that.

I hope that you are well. Much more about my weekend is forthcoming.

Paul

Oh, mother

Larry,

Just wanted to check in with you and let you know that I'll be out of town through Tuesday of next week. Have a happy weekend. I'll be taking my notebook with me to make note of anything, well...noteworthy. I might also send you a little message via Audioblogger. I'd explain that but I doubt you'd understand, what with you being old and all. You'll see.

I wanted to at least share one story with you but I'm afraid that my time is up. We have to leave now if we're going to make the pontoon tour. Long story.

Take care,

Paul

McNightmares

Larry,

It’s been a long time. So much has changed. I’m a bigger man; steadfast and sure-footed. Actually, sure-footedness is one of my special powers. I have many but no more that I wish to share at the moment. I did want to share this with you. I had to go to Wally World on my lunch break to pick up some groceries. This bastion of consumerism might as well be the weekly meeting place for the Bottom Feeders of America. I feel unclean having spent 20 horrifying minutes there. My visit was capped off by one of the most disgusting displays I have ever bore witness to in all my 31 years. The “family” (old woman, older woman, dirt child) in front of me were settling up with the cashier as I waited, my skin crawling with Mart mites. The trio had grabbed some McDonalds (conveniently located at the rear of the store) for some shop-snacking. Dirt Kid grabs his McBurger from the basket and begins to inspect it before shoveling it in his mouth. He pulls the top bun off to check out his McMeat and suddenly, the patty and one of the buns plummets to the ground. That’s not the sick part. He is not quick enough to exercise the 5 second rule but lazily picks up his fallen comrades after 8 (maybe 10) seconds, pieces his burger back together and proceeds to eat the hamburger with such relish that I was for a fleeting moment, envious. Then I threw up in my mouth a little and carried out my transaction, partially in shock.

I am afraid that I can never return and that I shall be forever haunted by this McMemory.

How are you? I saw your interview with Ricky Gervais. Good stuff.

Talk to you soon,

Paul

Let Me Clear My Throat

Larry David,

What's up? Me? Kickin' it, Fuzzy Navel style. I ran out of beers and had to dip into Anna's peach schnapps. That's not a euphemism for vagina, either.

Nothing makes a man feel gayer than having to drink peach schnapps. Except having his balls licked by a gay guy. That would be gayer, I suppose.

Anyway, I know that if me and Anna ever get divorced, it won't be because of infideltiy or financial problems or conflicting idealogies. It will be because of my constant, chronic, and habitual throat-clearing. Every 30 seconds. Over the course of a year, that could be potentially maddening. I know that I would not be able to endure that sort of punishment. If you think about it, it's sort of like water torture only without the water. Anyway, I didn't have much to say but I did want to say that I called it. Five dollars if I get it right.

Holla at ya boy!

Paul

The Wedding Planner

Larry,

Hey, I don't have time to talk right now but I wanted to let you know a couple of things:

1. I cried a little during the season finale of the OC. A couple of times, but ironically, not when Marissa died. I had been prepared for that. I think that I teared up a little during the graduation scene. Something about that graduation song that gets to me.

2. The wedding website is up and running and more than functional at the moment. Live links and current photos were added last night. I'll be adding more to the site in weeks to come. I plan on including some Easter Eggs for those that take the time to poke around. I would have done more last night but Anna poopoo'ed some of my ideas so I'll just have to wait until she's out of town.

I hope that you and your wife are well. I heard her on NPR last Friday. She seems delightful.

Paul

OC

Larry,

I don't know if you watch The OC. It's a guilty pleasure of mine and I'm not at all ashamed to admit it. In high definition, it's one of the most stunning shows to watch during primetime. And I'm not even talking about Rachel Bilson, although she is quite fetching in HD. However, she's just as fetching in regular def so maybe I'm a little biased when it comes to her character, Summer Roberts.

If you do watch it, I know a secret. I'm sure that lots of people know by now but I wanted to tell someone because I just can't keep secrets bottled up. It will kill me. Must let it out.

Marrissa Cooper dies tonight.

Hope that I didn't ruin it for you.

Later,

Paul

Stanford

Larry,

Hi ho. Remember how I was telling you that I filled out a questionnaire about Stanford on iTunes? Here it is. I'll let you know if I hear anything. Hey, you live in California. Pull some strings, my bro.

I believe that you should offer something of a reward to those students of learning that listen to your online lectures. What, do you ask? I feel that the decent thing to do would be to offer them a distance learning degree or an honorary degree of some sort. Set a goal for the number of hours that one must reach and then, when they've completed the requirements, give them a degree. Don't you give out honorary degrees for celebrities? Why not people like me? I'm not good enough? I haven't been in a blockbuster summer movie? Big deal. I bet you anything I'm smarter than Rob Schneider. Have you seen any of his movies?

Keep up the good work. I'm enjoying the lectures. I'll keep you posted on my progress. But if you decide that you want to offer these remote learning degrees, and you want to keep it on the DL, I'll keep quiet. I'll just hang it in my study with the other two degrees...that I bought on eBay. Just kidding. I earned them. Not from such an esteemed college as Stanford, but an accredited university nonetheless.

Paul Little

ps. I wrote this a few weeks ago and still haven't heard anything so I'm guessing I won't be the first to receive their Distance Learning Degree from Stanford. Who needs 'em? Maybe I'll just talk to Berkley. They are probably more open-minded anyway.

Later,

Paul

A Little Break

Larry,

Hey again. I just wanted to remind you that you are invited to the wedding and to let you know that if you don't want to make the trip from California, you can always elect to simply send a gift. I'm thinking, Prius, but whatever you want to do is fine by me. Personally, I wouldn't want to go either. Weddings are just painful. I often think back fondly to the best wedding that I ever attended. This was more than 10 years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday. The ceremony lasted all of ten minutes. Now that's the way a wedding should be. Short and sweet. Most marriages don't last long so why put everybody through a long and painful ceremony? It just makes sense to cut it short. People dread the ceremony and only suffer through that for the reception. At least, that's always been my position. Hopefully, ours won't be that painful.

Anna and I were talking about the ceremony itself and we were thinking of ways to make it a little more interesting. I suggested that in the middle of the vows, I pull out a long serrated knife and ceremoniously cut each others palms. Then have the priestess tie our hands together with a scarf or something. That idea, while Anna did find it amusing, was vetoed almost immediately.

Anyway, there are no live links yet on our wedding site yet, you can check it out if you want to hear an excellent Barry White song that Anna swears has a ten-minute long intro. See for yourself. I miss Ally McBeal.

We'll be updating the site this weekend. Hopefully.

Prius.

Talk to you soon,

Paul

iPaul

Larry,

Hey again. I've been meaning to ask you something but I keep forgetting so while I'm thinking about it, I'm going to ask you. Do you have an iPod? What am I saying, you probably have a million gigabyte platinum iPod. What am I saying, you're old and you probably wouldn't know how to work it even if you did have one. No offence. But just in case you do, I wanted to tell you that both Berkley and Stanford are offering class lectures for free to download onto your mp3 player. In case you're interested in learning about Microeconomics or European History or US Foreign Policy. My favorite lecture so far is entitled "Why Zebras Don't get Ulcers", on the Stanford site. It's fascinating. And the professor is hilarious.

I hope that you enjoy it and if you don't know what an mp3 player is, then forget I mentioned it.

Once, when I was downloading some classes to my iPod from the Stanford site, I was asked to participate in a quick survey about Stanford on iTunes. I filled it out and near the end of the survery, there was a blank space where one could add any comments so I asked them if I could earn a degee, provided that I listen to all of the course material. I still haven't heard back from them. But that would be awesome. I'd love to add a few more degrees to my Wall of Degrees, which at present holds exactly two.

I think that's enough for one day.

No wait, there's more. Anna and I just purchased a domain for our website. I'll tell you about that later. I have to be productive since I've taken the day off. On second thought, maybe I should use this free time to relax.

Did you see Jerry and Julia and Jason on SNL this weekend? That intro was great. Where was Michael?

I'll write more later. Really. I'm going to spend some time alone in thoughtful meditation.

Paul

Poem pt. 1

And now, a poem that has nothing to do with anything and yet, means everything. I didn't write this, Jacob did. Thanks, Jacob.

Asbestos tragedies,
mesotheliomas
happen most frequently
inside folks' pleuras.

Then they get bloodthirsty
mesothelioma
lawyers to harass their
stingy insurers.

Random Bits

Larry,

Given my writing infrequency of late, you could consider this a flurry. Although, I would consider none of this to be exciting or important.

I took four showers yesterday. My OCD-like tendencies seem to be rearing thier ugly heads again. That was a bad analogy. I took one in the morning before work. Then I took another in the afternoon after I worked out. That one was absolutely neccessary. Next, I took one not long after I got home from work. I was just hot and I thought that a shower might cool me off. It worked, by the way. Finally, I took one around bedtime. Anna made chicken mushroom quesadillas and they were huge. Ah, she also made a salad to accompany dinner. So, I had my salad and quesadilla. Then, I polished off her salad and 1/4 of her quesadilla that she couldn't finish. I don't like to see food go to waste. Big mistake! I don't think that I've ever consumed so much at once. I hurt badly for 2 hours after dinner. Not to mention, I had the chicken sweats. So, shower number four was important for a number of reasons, namely so that I could cralw into bed and be comfortable. But that's a lot of showers. I have problems.

Oh, one other thing. I got home yesterday and the blender was on full blast. I was a little freaked out. I asked Anna, later, if she had used the blender that morning before she left for work but she said that she didn't. I've come to the conclusion that my house is haunted. Haunted by the spirit of a poor person that was once slain in Hurt Village. That's the housing project that was razed to make room for the Uptown homes, which is where we now live. Obviously, the ghost was jealous of all the fancy aplliances that we have. Poor ghost.

More to come.

Paul

By the way, the video that I included in my last post has now been viewed 79 248 times. And I got an email from some fellow in Canada. People are so immature!

That's hot

Larry,

What's up, partner? How's it going? I'm ok. I wrote you a play.

[Phone rings]

RS: Hello?

V: May I speak to Radio Star?

RS: Speaking.

V: You're a dead man!

[End Scene]

Enjoy!

Pen Pals

Larry,

What's shakin'? Not much here. Chillin'. Anna's gone to sleep and I'm left to my own devices. Big mistake! I did want to mention something that strokes my ego. I use the Google Analytics to see who all is reading my letters to you. That's natural, I would assume. As it turns out, Martyn reads the letters. However, this hasn't always been the case. Seems that one day, Martyn was looking for something that involved foreign objects in the ass and happened to stumble upon us. What was he looking for? We'll never know. But he did get caught by his employers, which is funny in it's own right. He was rebuked but in the end, bonded with his employer as a result of his casual surfing.

I told you earlier that I use Google Analytics, right? Well, Analytics tracks all sorts of things. Normally, nothing is that exciting or worth repeating but I did want to mention a couple of things.

First, someone from Asse, has been reading my letters to you. I can't believe that there is such a city and I think that I'd kill myself if I were from Asse. The jokes write themselves. On second thought, maybe it would be a gold mine to live there.

Second, someone actually typed this into the search box: nair+get+into+my+vagina+what+do+i+do?

I love it. I love to think that someone's painful vagina is the reason that they read my letter to you. That makes it a little dirty and at the same time, a little sexy.

People have also searched for crystal meth and deoderant so I must tell you that I am pleased. Such arbitrary words for such an arbitrary undertaking.

Martyn is awesome. Upper Norwood rocks!

Thanks, Martyn. Keep reading even though I only write to Larry once every two weeks.

Paul

The Sisterhood of the Calling Purse

Larry,

How's it going, old timer? I am well, if you were wondering. Honestly, I'm ready for this week to be over. It's been a long and tedious one and I feel as though I could use a vacation. Which is a little absurd considering I had a vacation of sorts back in Janurary. At any rate, I am tired of being at work and that may indicate that I am ready for a change, career-wise. You wouldn't, by any chance, need a grip or best boy for your show, would you? I think that I could do either of those jobs, although I'm not sure what either entails. However, I am confident in my abilities and have been told that I am the best by many people. The best at what, I am not sure.

I had a point. Anna's purse often calls me during the day. Anna will leave the keypad of her phone unlocked, throw it in the purse, and forget about it. I, though, am constantly reminded for I will, from time to time, receive calls that upon answering, realize very quickly that there is no caller, save Anna's purse du jour.

I once got a call from the purse as Anna was walking furiously from one terminal to the next in an effort to make her connecting flight. Sometimes, I just listen because I'm bored. And in part, because I think that she'll figure it out somehow and pick up the phone. She never does. But I remember that call well. Clop, clop, clop, clop. This for 10 minutes-the pace building to a crescendo; a symphony of airport terminal ambient noise accompanied by the hurried steps of Anna's high-heeled feet. A beautiful piece, believe me. But that wasn't the point.

Today's call came to me from Anna's purse as she was at lunch with her work friends. The topic of conversation: abortions. An icky subject for any man, I think. But I did get to hear about one woman's niece's or daughter's (I believe that there were 4 in all) abortions. That is, she had 4 family members that had had abortions. I'm just glad that it wasn't me at lunch with that crew because I would have been tres uncomfortable. Good thing that women have other women to discuss such matters. I suppose that one could say it's a blessing. Saves us from conversations like those.

Purse, stop calling me at work!

Have a good one,

Paul

Writer's Block

Larry,

I can't write. I have lots of stuff that I want to tell you about but the words just won't come.

Sorry.

Maybe tomorrow.

Here's what you have to look forward to if I can overcome this momentary inability to engage in intelligent and inconsequential colloquy:

My new iPod
My new pen pal, Martyn
My acceptance into the Stanford E-Learning Program, although that's not officially official

I think that's it.

I hope that you are well.

Paul

Conspiracy Theory

Larry,

What is up, my friend? Not much here. My mom ruined my day today. You know that I had hepatitis, right? Well, officially, the doctors all said that it was hepatic toxicity. A subtle distinction, or maybe, not depending on who you ask. I think, given the manner in which one contracts hepatitis, that the difference is a big deal. I mean, it's the difference between eating poop or mixing acetaminophen and alcohol. I'd like to think that I didn't eat poop. Technically, there are 3 main types of Hepatitis. A, B, and C are all viral. One involves sex, one is contracted from eating the poop, and one you can get from blood transfusions or dirty instruments. In short, my mom said that she talked to some nurses and they all agree that I contracted Hepatitis B from my shoulder surgery and now the doctors at St. Francis are covering their respective asses by telling me that it was hepatic toxicity. So, it would seem that I am the subject of a great medical cover-up. This must be my 15 minutes but watch as I milk it for all that it's worth.

I'm going to do some digging; get an independent blood test from some impartial street doctor. Do those kinds of doctors exist? They do on TV so it must be true. I should probably go ahead and call 20/20. But I don't need people digging into my past. Who knows what they will find.

Anyway, my mom broke the news to me this morning. It's really cast a pall over this otherwise beautifully crisp Spring day.

To be continued...

Paul

Cyclone Larry

LD,

It's unfortunate that you will forever be associated with death and destruction in and around the continent that is Australia. I'm sorry for you. Really. But I don't suppose that many Americans much care about what happens in Australia. That's always been my position. What happens in Australia...well, that's their business.

I just wanted to send you a little note to let you know what's been happening in my world since last week. Here are some highlights:

I was in the locker-room today getting ready to go work out and I overheard the most ill-timed conversation ever amongst men in a locker room. I stood on the scale weighing in as these two guys, standing there buck naked and toweling off, are talking about, of all things, sausages. I mean, polish sausages, kielbasa, hot dogs (I know that's probably not considered sausage), but still. You get why it's amusing. I thought, this really is a sausage party and quickly got the hell out of there.

I'm using what might be women's deodorant. I can't really tell. It smells like flowers so I assume that it's for women. The thing is, I think that I'm allergic to the strong stuff. I can use regular, run of the mill, deodorant for about a month and then all of a sudden, all hell breaks loose in the armpit region. It's as if someone lit tiny brushfires down there. It gets all red and irritated and if I put on anything, it just makes it burn and itch. Last week I used some of Anna's lavender-scented baby powder. This week, it's some weird Herbal deodorant that says nothing on it about the gender for whom it is made. I'll take it though. It makes me feel better. I don't know if it actually works and really, I'm sure that I even know what deodorant does, if anything. Nor do I know the difference between an anti persperant and deodorant. I think that it's an industry built on a scam, like dry cleaning. That doesn't work.

30 minutes left in the workday and then I am headed home. God, I love the end of the day.

More soon,

Paul

LA Clippers

Larry,

Remember how I said that I'd have more exciting stuff to talk about the last time? I lied.

This weekend was pretty chill, as far as weekends go. Anna was worn out from her trip to Florida last week so she was asleep by nine on Friday and Saturday. I, left to my own devices, stayed out of trouble. Surprise.

We did have lunch at the White Church. It would appear that this is where we're having the rehersal dinner. I have told Anna repeatedly that I don't want to give a speech. I just can't do it. I get stage fright like you wouldn't believe. My neck gets stiff, my mouth dries up, and start to take on the attributes of a robot. It's not so pretty. So, in the event that I am forced, I plan to thank everyone for coming, and then, at some point duriung my ramblings, blurt out "I can't do this" and then disappear into the recesses of the old church. Should be funny. You should come.

You're invited, by the way. Anna wanted me to tell you. Since you're a big Hollywood moviestar, I told her that you're schedule wouldn't allow it. She wanted me to pass the information along, regardless.

On a lighter note, I went to my mom's house this weekend to help her set up her new TiVo. I love TiVo, by the way. It's the best invention since...well, frankly I know of no other invention that comes close to the TiVo. So, for me, it's the best invention EVER. But I digress. I was at my mom's house, setting up the TiVo. I was almost done and my mom had to leave. She had to go pick her dog Pax up from the groomers. Since my mom drove us both from the White Church, I was left there alone. I watched a little Blow but then found myself outside playing the Pied Piper to a bunch of ducks. That's all irrelevant. I snooped around her apartment a little bit while she was gone and discovered that she had in her tiny apartment, 6 nail clippers. SIX. Isn't that too many? There were two in her bedroom, two on the bar that separates the kitchen from the living room, and then 2 on a coffee table in the living room. I could understand 2, maybe. One for the bedroom and one for the other room. That way, if you're lazy like me and you feel the urge to cut your grossly long toenails, you can do it whether you're in the bedroom or the living room. But to have six makes me think that my mom's got some kind of weird toenail problem or fetish. I can't decide which. To be honest, I'd rather not think about the possibility of my mother having any kind of fetish.

You know what? I've got to stop there.

Hope that all is well in Hollywood.

Paul

Heil, Me

Larry,

What's up, buddy? I know that it's been a while since I've written. Sorry about that. I haven't really been busy or anything. I'm just really, really boring. It's no excuse and yet, it's the only excuse that I've got.

This weekend was boring. Anna was having her special girl time and didn't want to do much of anything all weekend except lay around and watch shows that were invented to drive men crazy. There was lots of E! and various garden shows and home make-over shows. At one point, I threatened suicide if she didn't stop. She didn't. Obviously, I chickened out.

I got a shower Saturday afternoon. Not that a shower in and of itself is a big deal, but I shaved while I was in the shower. Gave myself a little Hitler mustache. Not that I'm a fan. Just thought that it'd be funny to see Anna's reaction. She didn't notice. There wasn't much hair up there anyway and when I got out of the shower, I came out to the living room where she was and stood around for a bit, chuckling to myself. She didn't have her glasses on so she didn't realize that there was a Furher in the room. Alas, my joke backfired. That pretty much sums up the weekend.

It's a shame though, about the Hitler mustache. I mean, from now until the foreseeable future, that mustache style will be forever frowned upon, never accepted as a viable facial hair alternative. I think that it's kind of cool. I mean, there's little upkeep once you get it shaped correctly. It's rather inconspicuous-at least, it would be if stupid Hitler hadn't made it infamous. I think the soul patch (another facial hair style) is completely derivative of the Hitler. I mean, someone probably saw the picture of Hitler and said, "You know, that's not a bad looking mustache. But I can't wear it over the lip. What if I take the same style and move it downstairs...below the lip." And like that, the soul patch was born. Born in infamy. No labels on it though. You'd think that someone would have realized by now that the soul patch is just the Hitler mustache's cousin, once removed.

I'll just stick with the no facial hair look, at least for the time being.

Hitler sucks! In fact, this is what happens when people think that the world is ready for the Hitler mustache.

Take care,

I'll have more soon. More of this, you ask? Better stuff than this, I assure you.

Paul

Odds and Ends

Larry,

Just wanted to drop you a line and share with you a couple of things of note. You might not find it interesting and if you don't, that's ok. I don't really care. Yeah, I said it.

Anna and I have decided what our first baby shall be named, if it is a boy. Are you ready? Ivan. That is a kick-ass name. For a boy or a girl, I think.

We have both decided (I think) to get new cars. Honda's got a new car out called the Fit. It drops around the Ides of March so we've got to wait a bit but I am very excited. It gets 56 miles to the gallon and retails for around $12,000. That is one sweet deal. I read somewhere that the hybridized version gets 84 mpg but they only sell that car in Japan. Dang the Japanese. They get all the cool shit. Not fair.

My buddy Jay told me a story that was hilarious. Unfortunately, I'm sworn to secrecy. Don't you hate that?! Why bother saying it if you can't tell, right? I love doing that to people. I'm making up for all the times that someone's done it to me.

I have discovered (and I use that term loosely) the best show ever. Wonder Showzen . Comes on MTV2. Honestly, I'm surprised that they air anything worth watching. I would have guessed that they would have followed in MTV's footsteps and shunned anything watchable long ago. I was dead wrong.

I'm not sure if you know anyone in law enforcement but if you do, could you do me a favor? Could you run some plates for me. I'm looking for the driver of a truck and his license plate number is TN GDD 644. I need to have a conversation with that guy and you're rich. Pull some strings for me. I'll be your BFF.

Talk to you soon,

Paul

All Things Poop

Larry,

How's it going brother? All's well here in Memphis. Spring is beginning to perk up after a long winter buried underground. But I'm not writing to talk to you about Spring. I wanted to say some things about poop that I've been keeping to myself for a while. My buddy Joey has a theory about poop. It's complicated and I don't want to go into details but, in a nutshell, he believes that if more people were comfortable talking about poop, the world would be a better place. I don't know if he has scientific data to back it up, but he's a sharp guy and I think that there's something to his theory. So, to that end...

He (or maybe it was Cara) said that he/she overheard a conversation on the streets of New York. A woman was on the phone and apparently, the person with whom she was speaking had to go to the bathroom-badly. In closing, she said "Alright, go shit, shitty". Frank talk about poop. Joe's theory, in action.

I talk about poop a lot. Maybe too much. However, I don't like to be graphic about it, so I have created a euphemism for the process that I believe softens the blow when I discuss it with strangers or coworkers. I refer to it as "seeing the doctor". I have taken the euphemism one step further and created a persona for my doctor. I call him Dr. Tu. He's an Indian fellow, maybe from Pakistan. I don't know because normally we don't discuss world affairs. Usually, when I see him, he's all business. So, in the future, when I refer to the doctor, it's probably Dr. Tu to whom I am referring.

I know that your kids are too old to appreciate this, but I saw a website the other day that made me believe that Joe's theory has spread to France...or at least to Canada. It's this site, aimed at children, that let's them pick out certain types of food, stick that food into a machine that's supposed to be your digestive system, and see what kind of poop that combination of food produces. If you should happen to visit, choose all McDonalds. That is one bad poop.

I pooped on Starbucks. Really, it was an accident. Ok, this is going to be confusing. I can't remember if this happened before or after my shoulder surgery, but not too long ago, I had to go see a real doctor (not Dr. Tu) about something shoulder-related. During the exam, I got a page from Dr. Tu-he wanted to let me know that he needed to see me right away about some tests that he'd done. I thought that I'd wait until I got home to see him-he does make house calls. Unfortunately, after I left the (real) doctor's office, I realized that I would not make it home. This was an emergency situation so I stopped at Starbucks. Thought that I would kill two birds with one stone. I walked in and quickly made my was to the restroom. I'll spare you the details but what took place in there was disturbing. It was as though I had been to Mexico and unknowingly drank lots and lots of water. So, I'll just say this-there was some leakage. After I was done. On the floor. Disgusting, I know. I can't go back there again. I can't-I won't.

That's it, I think. I was out walking Xander this morning and there was a couple out on the park bench talking to one another. As I approached, they started to make those sounds that indicated that they wanted to interact with the dog. I didn't want to stop so I just yelled, "Xander, make some poopy"! They laughed and I was able to make my escape. He did, shortly thereafter. Green poop. Awesome!

That's really it.

Take care and cherish the poop.

Paul

Me v. Citibank, episode 3 (Phantom Menace)

Larry,

And the winner is...

You wrote:
Please send me a refund check for the credit balance of $59.80.

Re: Account - Credit Balance Refund 02/01/06 09:24:45 AM 3 of 3
Customer Service Wrote:
Your credit balance refund has been processed, and you should receive a check within 2 weeks. For your protection, all refund checks are sent to the primary cardholder at the address on file.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Account - Credit Balance Refund 02/01/06 09:48:37 AM 3 of 3
You wrote:
Hey Citibank. Sorry that I had to throw down the proverbial gauntlet and transfer my balance. Sincerely, I love you guys. I'll make sure that my next major purchase is made with my Citibank Visa card. I don't want to lose you guys as a business partner. And, if I may say so, as a friend, You guys rock. I mean that. Paul

Me v. Citibank Visa, episode 2

Larry,

The battle for $60.00 and my pride continues...

Dear Citibank, When I agreed to transfer my balance to the Citibank visa card, I did so because I was offered a no interest option until January of 2006. Yet, when I received my account summary, I couldn't help but notice that I did incur some finance charges. Will you please explain or simply deduct them from my outstanding balance? Thanks a ton. You guys are great! Keep up the excellent work.
Sincerely, Paul Little

Re: Finance Charges 10/03/05 03:09:45 AM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
Our records indicate that the account is currently in default status, based on your payment history.
Your Card Agreement states in part, that your Annual Percentage Rate (APR) may be increased if you fail to meet the terms of the Card Agreement because you fail to make a payment to us or any other creditor when due.
Your account may be eligible for a lower rate after you have met the terms of all Card Agreements for six consecutive months. Your existing balances will remain subject to the higher rate until they are paid in full.
If you feel that this is in error, please contact us.
You can also contact our Customer Care Center at 1-800-950-5114. Outside the U.S., please call collect at 605-335-2222.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Finance Charges 11/01/05 04:43:43 PM 2 of 2
You wrote:
Hello Citibank, In regards to the message above, I just wanted to say this: I felt that I left myself plenty of time to pay the amount due by the due date. However, I underestimated the amount of time that it would take to authorize my online status. I thought for sure that 3-5 days was more than enough time to arrange for this. I was wrong. It took 8-10 before I was able to pay online. If I had known that it would take this long, I would have adjusted my schedule accordingly. I think that in lieu of paying a higher interest rate and late fees that I don't feel I deserve, I will simply transfer my balance elsewhere. You guys removed the late payment fee so I assumed that you would still allow the no interest terms. I guess that we know what assuming does. Still, no hard feelings, ok? I like you guys. I'm sure that we'll do business again in the near future.
Paul Little

RE: Finance Charges 11/01/05 05:05:06 PM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
We will submit a request to review your account for a rate adjustment. If approved, your account will be restored to the standard APR on all of the active balances, including:
-Balance Transfer Rates
-Rate Sale Offers
-Intro Rates
-APR Buy-Downs
If the higher rate was due to a bank error, any necessary finance charges and fees will be credited to the account and reflected on a future statement. Related accounts will be updated as well.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Finance Charges 11/01/05 05:27:16 PM 2 of 2
You wrote:
Dear Customer Service, Ok. I agree to your terms. I will hold off a day or two while you review my account. I'm sorry that I snapped earlier. I'm having a fat day. You know how it is. You wake up and you feel bloated. Too much candy! Oh well. I'll be hitting the gym tomorrow. Take it easy.
Paul

RE: Finance Charges 11/01/05 05:57:11 PM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.
Our records indicate the Annual Percentage Rate (APR) for purchases on this account is currently at 17.74%. This variable APR is based on the prime rate (currently 6.75%) plus 10.99%.
Our records indicate the balance transfer APR on this account is currently at 0%. As long as you do not default under any card Agreement, this offer will be valid until 01/01/06.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Finance Charges 12/03/05 11:58:09 AM 2 of 2
You wrote:
Play it your way Citibank. I'm going to move my money from out of this account and cancel all of my Citibank cards. I didn't want to take this course of action but you leave me no choice, now do you? Shame on you, Citibank. It's the holidays for goodness' sake. Have you no decency?
Paul

RE: Finance Charges 12/03/05 12:25:30 PM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
Our records indicate the Annual Percentage Rate (APR) for purchases and balance transfer on this account has been lowered. The APR for purchases is currently at 17.99%. This variable APR is based on the prime rate (currently 7.00%) plus 10.99%. Your APR for balance transfer is at 0.00%.
If you have further questions, please call the number on the back of your card, and we will be happy to assist you. Thank you for using our website.

RE: Finance Charges 12/08/05 10:14:03 PM 2 of 2
You wrote:
Sorry Citibank but it's just not good enough. You want to play hardball? You got it. I told you that I was serious about transferring the balance. Well, I don't mess around. You said that I'd have 0% APR until January. However, I've incurred finance charges for the past 3 months; all because I wanted to pay online and it took you a week to give me online access. Not a very nice trick. I'll be transferring my balance within the hour. Discover will be so pleased. I want to say "Eat it" but I'm going to take the high road. Best of luck, Citibank. I hope that we meet again someday.
Paul

RE: Finance Charges 12/08/05 10:31:02 PM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
Finance charges for purchases, balance transfers and cash advances will begin to accrue from the date the transaction is added to your balance. They will continue to accrue until payment in full is credited to your account.
This means that when you make your final payment on these balances, you will pay interest for the time between the date your last statement prints and the date your payment is credited to your account.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Finance Charges 12/08/05 11:09:31 PM 2 of 2
You wrote:
Citibank, That doesn't even make sense. You told me that I would have 0% APR on balance transfers until January. It's a moot point now anyway because I am transferring my transferred balance to another credit card company. So, in essence, there will be no more finance charges from you. See you around.
Paul
ps. Merry freaking Christmas!

RE: Finance Charges 12/08/05 11:57:53 PM 2 of 2
Customer Service Wrote:
We apologize for any inconvenience caused to you.
We have credited your account $59.80 for the finance charge assessed. This credit should appear on your account within two business days.
Thank you for using our website.

Me v. Citibank, episode 1

Larry,

What's up, doggy? I know that I've been inundating you with letters lately. I'm sorry but I think that you'll enjoy this exchange that I had with Citibank a while back regarding my credit card and our little game of chicken. I don't think that you need too much background but to get you caught up, here's what happened. I transferred a balance to my Citibank Visa card because they offered 0% interest for 6 months. I love no interest. So, I transferred the balance. However, I wanted to pay online so I signed up for online billing. I thought that it would take 3-5 days but it took much longer. Subsequently, I made a payment late. They proceeded to yank the no-interest terms. This is what happened (via email):

Late Payment 08/09/05 11:37:31 PM 1 of 1
You wrote:
Hello, do you think that you might forgive the late payment fee for me this one time? I have recently moved and am not receiving my mail in a timely manner. Also, the post office has given me some bad information concerning my zip code. In addition, I have been trying to pay my bill online since the 3rd and I am still unable to do so. It would mean a lot to me. What do you say? You're the best!
Paul Little

Re: Late Payment 08/09/05 11:50:34 PM 1 of 1
Customer Service Wrote:
As a goodwill gesture, we have credited your account $39.00 for the late fee assessed. This credit should appear on your account within two business days. We must receive your payments by the due date in order to avoid late fees in the future.
Please reply to this message with your new address and/or phone number, and we will be happy to update your account with the new information.
We investigated your inquiry and our records indicate that statements were mailed to you each month. We cannot determine a reason for the delay. If this continues, please contact your local post office to resolve this problem.
Thank you for using our website.

RE: Late Payment 08/10/05 12:33:52 AM 1 of 1
You wrote:
Thank you, Citibank. As soon as I can pay online, I will do so. And it will be so much more than the minimum payment. I think that you will be very proud of me. I will not soon forget your generosity. I will update my profile as per your instructions. Thanks again, Paul Little

Customer Service Wrote:
Thank you for using our website.

The Importance of Being Jewish

Larry,

Howdy fella. I wanted to tell you this a while back but with the holidays and hepatitis and surgery, I never got around to it. I wish that I were Jewish. You know why? Because Christmas sucks. You know what sucks even worse than that? Christmas parties. Something bad happened to me at our office party this year and it felt like something that might happen to you...in the event that you weren't Jewish.

I attended my office Christmas party, mostly because there were prizes to be given away and of course, there was free food. I was reluctant but I went also because some of my work friends were going to be there and frankly, it was a better option than being stuck in the office. So, we ate and talked and soon after everyone had finished their meals, the games begun.

Every year we play the White Elephant game. It's the one where everyone brings a present and then people draw numbers to determine the order and then one person opens a present and the next person either gets to take that present or open another present. It goes on forever. This year, Brenda brought her little boy, AJ. About half-way through the game, AJ gets bored and decides that he's going to pass the time by helping people open up there presents. I drew a number somewhere near the end so when it was my turn, I went to the front of the room, quickly picked an unopened present and proceeded to open it. AJ, hovering near the present-staging area, immediately grabbed for my gift. I, channeling Adam Sandler as I often do, screamed (loudly), "Let me do it!" Big Mistake. He took off, ran for the protection of his mother, and cried like he had just been beaten with a bamboo cane. This went on for what seemed like 6 minutes. My fellow party-goers were furious, shocked, and appalled by my behavior. They scolded me and then demanded that I apologize to the little drama queen. I, of course, refused. This kid was like 5 so I knew that were I to apologize, he wouldn't really understand why I had done it or that I meant him no harm. Not to mention, I wasn't really sorry at all. This was just my attempt at taking the spotlight back from the little spotlight hog. My plan backfired. The worst thing about it was that, as the crying began to die down, he loudly scoffed "Stupid head" or some other such nonsense.

Crybaby. See where that gets you in life.

On a lighter note, that was only the first of two children that I made cry that day. Two-for-one. I rock!

So, I envy your Jewishness. If it weren't so difficult, I'd probably convert. But you guys probably wouldn't want me anyway.

Hope that you are enjoying this mild winter. There's snow on the ground in Memphis for the first time in ages. Actually, it's probably only been a year.

Talk to you soon,

Paul

Dog Pee, Meet Ass-Crack

Larry,

What's up brother? I haven't written in a while so I wanted to drop you a line and tell you hello, see how you were doing, etc. Me, I'm doing much better. I did experience a hepatitis scare a couple of weeks back but it turns out that I don't have viral hepatitis after all. Just a little liver damage from too much drinky drink. I should be fine in a month or two.

Last night, Anna had gotten into bed around 10:45. I usually get in after her because I have to brush, wash my hands, floss, gargle with mouthwash, snort some saline spray into my nostrils, apply moisturizer to my hands, and get a glass of water for the bedside table. Usually, I need an extra 15 minutes. Usually, she's asleep before I even make it to the bed. Last night was no different and as I climbed into bed she was quickly drifting off into Sleepyland. Xander, on the other hand was acting a little nutso. This is not unusual. Normally, I take him out to pee and poo right before bed. For whatever reason, this process reinvigorates him and briefly, he gets this shot of adrenaline and typically runs around barking like a dog on crystal meth. So, I jumped into bed and grabbed my book (Stephen King's new novel which is excellent by the way) and settled in for some lighting reading before I called it a night. As a slid under the warm and inviting sheets, Xander almost immediately dived under with me. Sometimes, he likes to hunker down under the covers and snuggle up close to my near-naked body. But this time, he just kept going, making his way in between my outstretched legs. I was nervous because he was scratching and biting and I was afraid that he was going to get hold of something that I consider pretty valuable. I was lucky in that respect. He didn't make a run for my cherries. He just peed right there between my legs, soaking the bed, my underwear and (gulp), my anus. I had no choice but to run, not walk, to the bathroom and shower. Anna wasn't happy or all that helpful with the cleanup. But she did ok for someone that was on the verge of REM sleep. I'm glad that she was there to help out.

All is well. I've been tainted. On the taint, ironically.

I hope that you are well and I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Paul

Smell My Finger

Larry,

What up, player? This won't be long. Just wanted to tell you about a milestone that I reached the other day. You know that I had the surgery last week, right? Well, I've been pretty sore since. I think that I might have an infection. Not sure. I'm going to the doctor tomorrow to find out for sure. Anyway, since the surgery, I haven't been able to move around very well. This has been a hindrance for going to "see the doctor". In addition, it's prevented me from showering regularly. I think that it was Monday that I was finally able to take a bath. Anna said that she'd help but then fell asleep far too early. This left me to go it alone. Mission accomplished. However, since I'd established that I was in too much pain to do it regularly, I decided to wait until yesterday to get in the tub again. Jonathan came over in the middle of the day. But by then, I was as ripe as a banana. In fact, I can remember on several occasions, while he was here, smelling myself uncontrollably. Don't get me wrong; it stank. But there's something about that smell. It's one of those smells that you can't help but smell. It was repulsive. And yet, I could not stop the constant whiffing. I really wanted Anna to smell it, simply because it was so bad. So I held off on the shower. I wanted to at least wait until she got home so that she could get a taste of this bad medicine. So, Jonathan left and she got home. I confessed to her that I was in dire need of a bath. She was tired after a long day's work. She was weak. I slid my finger into my pit-not finger to shirt but finger to actual armpit. Then I begged of her..."Please, smell this-one time". She partook. She did smell of the finger and I'll be honest, because I'm somewhat proud, she gagged. Not once, but four times. The scent did activate her gag reflex.

I shouldn't be proud of this, I know. But still. It's kinda cool. I almost made her throw up with my body odor. Makes you wonder about these French people. I mean, I hear that natural body odor is an aphrodisiac. If that were the case, I'd be getting laid all the time. And I wouldn't even need the internet.

I was stinky.

I got a shower tonight. I'm flying solo right now and there's nothing on the horizon. All is as it should be.

Take care,

Paul

Mother's Milk

Dear Larry,

Angela, from my work, had a baby recently. Four months ago, I think. A boy. She named him BJ. I told her about the pitfalls of a baby named BJ but she didn't listen. That's beside the point. She came back to work, reluctantly. However, she wanted to breast-feed so employed the pump when she was away from BJ. This, I applaud. It's just so sad that she had to be exiled to some solitary storage closet to do God's work for it is close-minded people that cannot see the beauty of breast-feeding. I don't want to get off on a rant, so I'll just stop there.

So, I get to work one Monday and realize that I have foolishly left my coffee creamer at home. If I don't have creamer then I don't have coffee and if I don't have coffee, then I am one cranky camper. I go visit Sabrina, who is good friends with Angela, and I ask her, do you think that we can steal some of Angela's cream. She keeps it refrigerated, don't you know, because it is milk. Sabrina thinks that it's possible and I keep watch while Sabrina checks the fridge to see if the package is available. Sadly, it was not. Not sure if it was a slow day, milkwise or if Angela simply chose not to milk it that day. At any rate, there was no milk to be had. I was coffeeless. A sad day, by any account.

I was excited at the prospect of having some breastmilk in my coffee for a couple of reasons:

#1. It would have been hot.

and

#2. I would have digested her DNA. I don't know why that excites me but it does. I'm not a Biology major but I think that me drinking her breast milk would have been tantamount to Jeff Goldblum and that fly being teleported to that other pod. I sort of think that after drinking that cup of coffee, I would have taken on some of Angela's qualities. In retrospect, she is a girl and to be honest, I would have hated to walk away with a vagina. So, maybe it all worked out for the best.

Still, it would have been hot.

Glad that I got that off my chest. I said "chest". Brilliant.

Take care,

Paul

Nair do Well

Dear Larry,

I had surgery last Friday. Maybe I didn't tell you about it but it's been a while since I've written so I doubt that I did. As it turns out, I had some arthritis in my AC joint. Don't worry, it's not the kind of arthritis that you'd get what with you being old. The doctor said that it was on account of some kind of trauma that occurred. I'd like to think that it was a result of me pretending that I'm a pitcher and throwing fast balls to some cocky first baseman. Anna seems to think that I've fallen out of my chair one too many times. At any rate, there was some trauma. So I had an operation to cut out the arthritis. I'm not sure what really happened. I just know that it hurt. It still hurts, in fact. But that's not the point. You know that I'm a pretty hairy guy, right? Well, I was a little apprehensive about the operation. My mom has told me stories about surgeons amputating the wrong arm or leg. I was fearful, I'll admit. So, the night before the surgery, I had Anna Nair an arrow on my back, pointing to the right (i.e. correct) shoulder. Just to make sure that the doctor cut on the right one. It worked. My right arm hurts like a sonofabitch.

I have more stories. Soon, my friend, soon.

Be well,

Paul