Community Collage
I was rummaging through my neighbor’s mail the other day looking for his IKEA catalog. I’ve been thinking about going back to community college to get my second degree and it’s important that my dorm room decor be timely. So I’m bringing a few Hoobastank posters and my collection of Sanuks. I found someone on J-Date willing to rent my bungalow in the valley. However, my neighbor can be a bit tough to get used to. He’s an interior designer for the United Parcel Service.
Unicorn Fever
Unicorns are pretty rare. If you catch one don’t feed it peanut butter. They hate it, and they’ll resent you for life. It happened to me once. To make things right, I snuck him into our office holiday party. Later, we went to a horse show. He likes horse shows. It makes him feel superior to all the other horses, even though he’s not really a horse but rather a mythological creature. Plus he likes all the attention. This Halloween we decided to go as a Kit Kat bar. Halfway through the night he started to eat his costume. I think he bit his own ass a few times, although he’d never admit it.
Fred Savagery
I was watching a Wonder Years marathon when I had the brilliant idea of opening up a Fred Savage costume store. I suspect they’d fly off the shelves. Fred Savage memorabilia seems to be a hot commodity. I always loved him in that show Boy Meets World. Sometimes I hang a poster of him next to my hamsters’ cage when they get out of line. They think its Fred Savage from the future so it keeps them in check. The last time I heard, Fred was selling pudding pops at the county fair. And everyone thought he peaked too soon.
Breakfast Cats
You know what’s not cool, cats with laser beams. You know what is cool, v-necks and Dickies shorts. This is according to an episode of Maury Povich. I questioned the validity of this statement so I went to the undisputed center for truth, Wikipedia. They claim, up until the 2010 solar equinox the practice of arming cats with laser beams became unwholesome and therefore uncool. However equipping our feline friends with 8-track cassette players is perfectly within reason. On a side note, I was once tasered by a cat. He was new to the neighborhood so I made him a pot of beef stew. Apparently it wasn’t good enough. I later learned he was very fond of pasta dishes.
Magic and Me
I was eating a Hawaiian Teriyaki Burger at Carl’s Jr. because I saw a commercial with Kim Kardashian’s ass. While enjoying my six-dollar entree, I was approached by a homeless man who challenged me to a Magic: The Gathering battle. You wouldn’t think they’d be such savvy Magic: The Gathering players, but you’d be wrong. Surprisingly, in the last few major tournaments, winners have come from either the homeless or gout stricken faction of our society. Apparently both have copious amounts of time to dedicate to MTG strategery, while consuming mass quantities of malt liquor and Tofurkey. After a feverish two hour battle, he claimed victory. I never forgave him. Not because I was beaten by a man with one tooth, but because every time I see Kim Kardashian’s ass I think of magical fairies.
Sombrero Swap Meet
I signed up for a magazine subscription just to get the commemorative sombrero. I thought about giving it to my little nephew but he already has two. Plus, this one just so happens to have a Microsoft logo on it, which is why I was so adamant on keeping it. I did see a similar one at a yard sale in front of an old folks home. It was sitting next to an autographed George Foreman Grill. I ended up buying the grill instead, just so I can sell it on Craigslist. I later found out it wasn’t his real signature, so now I’ve got a George Foreman grill with some other dude’s name on it sitting next to my cat’s litter box. Which happens to be right next to my 8 Minute Abs Collector’s Edition. If anyone wants the grill hit me up at jamiedossantos@yahoo.com.
I wasn’t sure if it was a knockoff, so I took it for a test drive. Then I realized, real Louis Vuitton vehicles don’t come with a dead hooker in the trunk.
Laundromat Fetish
Cream corn does wonders for your skin. That’s what they told me. I was in an old Laundromat at the time, trying to get change for a bean burrito. There was a homeless man with a shirt that read, Black Magic Is For Hippos. He was reading Dog Fancy. I think he wanted to coach little league. Or at least that’s what I gathered from the conversation he was having with himself. I thought about opening a business where I would sell fresh fruit door to door. Mostly because I wanted to showoff the plaid suit my mom gave me for Arbor Day. If I made enough money I’d like to sell more stuff door to door. Possibly ski masks or aerobic attire.
A Wolf in Hipster Clothing
I was walking into a grocery store the other night when I spotted a wolf in the parking lot. The thing that caught my attention wasn’t so much that there was a wolf but rather that he was wearing a neon Saved By the Bell t-shirt. At first I thought, who would put that shirt on a wolf and then I thought, where did he get a sweet t-shirt like that. So I asked him, but got no response. Instead he handed me a coupon for a Buy One Get One Free offer at Subway.
It’s nice to see Crackle getting some action. Although he doesn’t seem as happy without Snap and Pop.
The Mediocre Side of Hootie
Someone needs to bring back the after school special. Maybe do one about how not to do our taxes or eat out of the garbage. Those are always touchy subjects for single parents in upscale communities. I never really knew the travesties of rich folk until I started renting a timeshare with Hootie. He had an addiction to Berrylicious flavored juice boxes. He also liked serenading women with his “tender crisp bacon cheddar ranch” song. Which always made me hungry for a Filet-O-Fish. But I don’t know if it was the song or because it’s hand crafted by fish-sandwich artisans. Either way it’s horrible. Unless it’s Good Friday. Then it’s pretty much the only thing you can eat.
Popularity Contest
I figured gnomes would be a great way to make some extra money. Who better to run my lemonade stand than a bunch of diminutive old dudes. Especially when all they want in exchange is a box of Hostess Twinkies. I rushed to the corner store for some cream and ran into an old classmate. We went to an Olive Garden once and ended up washing dishes because he wanted to start a fight with Mookie Wilson. So as I was leaving with my cream, he asked if I was in the market for an Emperor Penguin. He said it was eating his carpet and he just wanted to barbeque in peace.


