A Few Quick Things, vol. 31

I get depressed, ya know? Not often, but I’m susceptible to such things. And when it happens, I shut down. That’s why there’s been no Friday updates for the past couple of weeks, and why I missed Monday. I’m working hours that seriously cramp my style here, and it gets to me after a while. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a fucking box.

But we don’t need to fixate on that crap. I felt like I owed you guys an explanation, but let’s move on now. Shall we? Thanks for bearing with me.

Yesterday’s update about one of the many Rocky shenanigans was fun to write, and makes me think I should self-publish a book about the old Dunbar days. The big publishing houses weren’t interested in it, but who needs ’em? Right?

Rocky sent me an email last night telling me he enjoyed the piece, and I asked what he remembers about that day. He’s notorious for not remembering stuff — things that seem impossible to forget. And here’s his response:

Practically zero. I remember we were getting some sun in the backyard and drinking heavily. Vaguely remember the sliding glass door incident, plant stand incident and the vacuum being destroyed. Remember nothing after that. Had no idea my sister and friends rescued me or that your house was broken into.

That’s more than he usually comes up with. I don’t recall us “getting some sun.” It feels a little homoerotic to me, but whatever. I’m not surprised he’s unclear about the stuff that happened after I left. He was going cross-eyed by that point, about to hit the linoleum. Good stuff.

Speaking of Dunbar, my friend Bill sent this article to me yesterday. Hell yeah! Wonder if they’ve booked U2 yet? I can envision Bono and The Edge emerging through that utility door right now. They’ve come a long way since I left.

Last weekend something unusual happened. A conservative pundit of some renown tweeted out a link to my article about the hilarious new Prius commercial, and it got some fresh attention. She has close to half-a-million followers, so things heated up for a couple of days. Here’s one of my favorite responses:

your soul is damaged to the point of being evil…..

That was from one of our tolerant friends on the Left. But I got a little grief from the Right, too. Apparently I’m a bit too foul-mouthed? People need to get the stick of righteousness out of their asses, stat. ‘Live and think exactly the way I do, or go to hell’ seems to be the modern way of doing things. Or maybe it’s not even modern? I don’t care enough to ponder it.

Before I call it an evil day here, I want to remind you guys to please use our Amazon links while doing your holiday shopping. Here’s one, so you don’t have to hunt around. It helps us a great deal. So, please try not to forget. Simply pass through one of our links, and shop as normal. Thanks in advance!

And in yesterday’s Rocky update, I mentioned that our house was burgled (first time I’ve ever used that word?!) on that ridiculous day. And for a Question, I’d like to know if any of your houses or apartments were ever broken into. What happened? What did they steal? Were they ever caught? Tell us about it, won’t you? Use the comments link.

And I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great weekend!

Comments

The house that I lived in about 4 years ago was the site of a “home invasion” about 2 months after I moved out – there were 2 girls living there at that point and they had to barricade themselves in the upstairs bedroom and wait for the cops. I found out about this from my old landlord when I ran into him in the grocery store. I told him that I was glad that I had already moved out when I did; I always had a loaded pistol on hand around that time, and I don’t think that things would have went well for the uninvited visitors (or myself, once the cops got there to clean up the mess).

Back when I was away at college, my parent’s house was broken into by 2 high school kids that were skipping class that day.
They entered through a bedroom window that had been left cracked open.
At the time, I had a German Shepard named Spike (yeah, go figure). Spike was a helluva a guard dog in his day, but at this point had grown old and a little less the dog he used to be.
The burglars used a golf club (it was left propped up in the hallway) to herd poor Spike into a spare bedroom and shut the door. If these two numb nuts had tried this 3 or 4 years earlier, they would have been dismembered and scattered throughout the house.
As far as what they took; a fifth of whiskey, a piggy bank with maybe $10 in it and a pack of Viceroy cigarettes that had come off of Air Force One.
What they didn’t touch; jewelry, shotguns, rifles, a .38 pistol, video game console, basically, just about everything worth real money.
I don’t exactly remember how they got busted, but they did. And the police said what they stole basically wasn’t worth being compensated for.
I still wish they would have tried their heist when my dog was in his prime. Mom and Dad would have come home to find 2 dead thieving teenagers in their house.

My apartment in Houston was broken into one day. I know the cable guys did it, because I’d set up a “late afternoon” appointment and scheduled a call 30 minutes prior to the technician’s arrival. This was all allowed by TW Cable. I got a call from the tech at 11 in the morning, saying they had knocked and nobody answered. I asked if they had received the instructions and was told they hadn’t. I told them I’d have to reschedule, since nobody was home. When I arrived home, the window off my patio had been kicked in, my computer was gone, the $400 I had in my desk drawer for new tires was gone, my spare set of car keys and they made off with my laundry basket. The cops were useless, never recovered anything. One officer actually asked me if I thought they came in through the window. “Well, the glass is kicked in and there are footprints on the window sill, I’m thinking, yeah.”

Worst part was, I rarely have cash. I just wanted to make sure I budgeted for the tires. For the next two years, I pulled the main fuse on my car every night so they couldn’t drive it away.

Never had a house burgled, but have had cars broken into a couple of times. Last time was Xmas Eve in 2012. I suppose a meth habit doesn’t take a holiday. Good to hear that Rocky is still alive and well.

The “Amphitheater” is freakin’ hilarious!! I helped a buddy build a shed a couple weeks ago that’s bigger than that. House never broke into, but my truck, yes. During the great flood of 2011 here is NEPA. Had to evacuate my apartment. Booked a hotel room on higher ground, crammed as much shit of value as I could in my truck and headed to the Hotel. Fucking pricks broke in over night right in the parking lot. Trashed my truck and stole my $700 Ovation guitar,PS3 and my XM radio. No cameras and the cops coulda give 2 shits. So I just got fucked outta all my shit.

I can see the marquee now “IN CONCERT TONIGHT – GARFUNKEL”. Simply because they couldn’t fit Simon in there with him. And, I want to SEE the first couple that decides to marry in that lean-to and shake their hands.

My house was broken into twice: once right before I moved into it and once after I witnessed a man get run over in the street then scooped into the car and carted away. I’m pretty sure the second break-in was a scare tactic. The idiots took my ‘boredom bag’ that I carried to work. It contained valuables like crossword puzzles, shot records, and notebooks. The geniuses left my spare purse that was holding nearly a grand in cash. Both bags were sitting a foot apart.
Now the first time the house was invaded by pros. They cut the power so the alarm wouldn’t trip, then removed the appliances (the house was empty and had just been renovated). They then went around back and took the ac unit. Heh I think I admire their work!

Back in 1974 our house was robbed while we were all sleeping upstairs. My dad came down to find the front door wide open and he immediately got that woah shit feeling. He walked past the den where he was met with a glaring hole where the tv used to be. This was back in the day when a tv ess a huge console piece of furniture. We had an S&H green stamp clock on top which they unplugged and left on the floor. Turns out my mother had walked right by at almost the exact time to get a bottle for my baby sister. The cops found a sneaker mark on the dining room window and my mothers purse was flung out the same window. Scary shut. My brother slept with a baseball bat and bicycle chain next to his bed after that. The whole neighborhood was getting robbed left and right. We moved to the suburbs shortly after.

‘Wine Cellar Park offers a number of attractions, including a new, nine-hole disc golf course, with nine more holes being designed and in the works. “We’re working on making it an 18-hole course,” he said. ‘

If you only knew. The Mayor is the former head of the street dept. Yep, he rode side-saddle on a garbage truck for years. I’m hearing rumors that the disc golf version of The Masters are going to be here next year. Winner gets a plaid jacket and four free hair cuts at Nappy By Nature hair salon.

I feel a little queasy about making fun of small town America. Obviously, Mayor Greenlee is a publicity hound, but he’s no worse that big city mayors on that score. Really, the only thing the town did wrong in the story was to call that shack an amphitheater. If you wanted to get married (or, for that matter, just find a place to fuck outdoors at midnight) and it was raining, you’d be grateful for the shelter.

The structure didn’t merit a grand opening. Other than that, the town built what it could afford, and it probably improved the usability of the park, without being too intrusive. Not many towns and cities can say the same.

I’ll admit my brain was playing the Doors’ Back Door Man during the Mayor’s speech, but I tried to stifle it.

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Welcome! My name is Jeff Kay, and I'm a suburban husband and father who's become reasonably skilled at impersonating an adult. I have no problem holding down a job, and can almost function in society as a normal human being. But none of it comes naturally. When my dad was my age, he was a genuine adult: thinking adult thoughts, doing adult things. What happened to me? What went wrong?! Sometimes it feels like there's a 17 year old boy living inside my head, making inappropriate comments and offering questionable advice. It used to concern me, but I've seen the alternative and now recognize it as a blessing. Maturity, my friends, is for suckers! Please join the celebration.