Good evening.
It looks like I broke the pact I made with the three people that read this. I didn’t write anything yesterday. I had promised to write something every day through the end of the year. I apologize if I’ve let you down. I apologize for not keeping my word. Don’t feel bad though. It’s not unusual that I go back on my word about something. Ask the mother of my three children. I know I said I’d send her twelve dollars a month, as was agreed upon in the settlement we made on Divorce Court. Jeez. I’ve got much better things to spend my not hard earned cash on. Like not paying off creditors or my crack dealer. Sorry. I don’t want you guys to get the wrong impression of me. That last part wasn’t true. I’m usually pretty good about paying my crack dealer.
So last night I got one of the best Christmas gifts I’ve ever received. “Isn’t it a bit early? It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!” I think Christmas gift giving should begin when Christmas commercials start. Anyhow, my friend Adam bought me a baseball glove. And to top that, the mitt fits. I have huge hands. Kind of like that one puppet from Puppetmasters that had huge hands but a tiny head, only my head looks like a pumpkin and I’m slightly taller.
I am a huge baseball fan, but have never really played. “You could have played in high school.” I was home schooled, so that wasn’t even an option. My parents tried to tell me I was on a team though. Every game was me versus the side of the house. I hate losing to a house. That sucks.
One of the greatest memories from my childhood was when my dad played catch with me. It wasn’t as often as I would have liked though.. “Maybe you can play catch with your dad now.” I doubt it. He wouldn’t play catch with me now because I don’t think he has a mitt. And he’s not alive.
Sorry.
I am pretty pumped though about having a mitt. I’m not as active as I probably should be. Not that my owning a mitt means I’m going to be taking the field with the Redhawks anytime soon. I’m so inept at sports that I couldn’t even take the field for beep ball, and I can see.
If I rubbed a lamp, and instead of being asked to leave Mathis Brothers like usual, a genie appeared and granted me any three talents, they would be as follows……
1. The ability to play baseball. I would like to play any infield position other than catcher or pitcher. I wouldn’t want to play in the outfield because I already don’t like thousands of people yelling things at me or throwing hot dogs at me.
2. The ability to play the piano. This has nothing to do with sports at all but I did say any three talents. I never said it had to be restricted to sports. Get off my back about it already.
3. The ability to dance like Michael Jackson. I’m talking about MJ in his prime. Like the Thriller or Bad days. This isn’t a joke either. Imagine how the ladies would love a baseball playing dancing pianist. That last word sounds funny. I re-read the sentence before the last one and I got a mental image of the worst animated corporate mascot ever. Like the corporate mascot for Trojan or something.
“Enough, Joel. We’re on quip over load right now. Can’t you write about something else?” Yes I can. Here goes.
I watched a Garth Brooks special today on CMT. It was good to see him again. I’m not a huge country music fan at all, but I do love some Garth Brooks. He is one of the best hosts SNL has ever had and he makes good music. He also doesn’t seem to be a pretentious country star,like someone I could name. I’m talking to you Mr. Toby Keith. Garth Brooks just seems like a nice guy. He never sings about putting his boots where they shouldn’t even think about being.
Garth Brooks makes me want to become a cowboy so it won’t sound out of place when I say I like him. “Well why not just become a cowboy Joel? Just go buy some Wranglers, a frisbee sized belt buckle and a hat and you’re good to go.” I can’t do that. I’ve tried. I dated a cowgirl once and we went into Teners because she had to buy jeans. Initially I was taken aback by the things I saw in there that were made out of denim. No lie, I saw a tux coat that was made out of denim. Anyway, while there I also inquired as to the largest hat size they carried, because I wanted to get a cowboy hat. Not surprisingly, they didn’t carry globe sized hats. My dream of being a cowboy was squashed by the size of my head. Not unlike my pillows. Anyway, I was happy to see Garth Brooks on TV again.
I recently asked what the word ‘whinge’ meant and found it means ‘to whine’. Thank you for checking Bob. Now I have a more acceptable adjective to use when describing my ex-girlfriend. I can use ‘whingey’ instead of a word that rhymes with ‘pilthy’ or ‘mitchy’.
I also received a response to my solicitation for someone to pay me to write something. I don’t know exactly what a penthouse letter is but I’m willing to try and write one. They said that I have to write a story about a situation involving sorority girls, a pizza delivery guy and a mule.
I’ll write more tomorrow because I know all of the fans I don’t have aren’t salivating to read more.
RIGHT NOW
SONG - Meanwhile Rick James by Cake off of the album Comfort Eagle. I love Cake. “We can tell Joel! I mean look at you!” I’m talking about the band, jackass. I saw them play the Diamond a long time ago. It was one of the best shows I’ve seen. I got to meet the band. They were really awesome. That’s all I got about that.
MOVIE - Citizen Cane. I’m not going to write anything explaining why I recommend this. I’m not even going to write anything explaining why I won’t explain it because if I have to explain it, any explanation I would have to give you isn’t going to make you any smarter than you already aren’t. Just watch it.
MORNING AFTERNOON DJ WHO IS STALKING ME - Phil from Phil and Drew on KISS FM. I saw him two weeks ago at The Loony Bin then I sat near him at the Hornets game last week and finally, I saw him last night at SKKY bar. Sure, he was at all of those places before I arrived, but still. Stop stalking me Phillip K. Afternoon! Ya hear me?!
Holla.
- Joel