It's been about two weeks now since I left the world of daytime employment. (In case you missed it, I had worked at a large Medical Center losing my job because I disagreed with the Marketing folks. They had changed calling the ER to now calling it the ED... because "department" just sounds bigger. To me it made my penis limp... and before all of you chime in with your wise ass comments... limper than it was before. So there. I win that one. Sort of.)
This new found freedom has given me time to explore the quaint little seaside village I moved to recently. Think of it as a daily jaunt into "Murder She Wrote" without the commercials and the body count... but all the old people. Wealthy old people and annoying yuppie holdouts comprise the town... basically, as I believe you call it in your language "white people." (I wanted less diversity in life.)
Firstly, let me explain that my new town is called Manchester-by-the-Sea, Massachusetts.
It is not Manchester. That would be wrong because then it could be confused with Manchester, NH which is considerably larger and filled with those ghastly New Hampshirinians (That's what they are called right? I didn't think "Lethargic Lumberjacks" was proper.), old mills, drugs, and Fisher Cats (which appear when you take drugs). Manchester-by-the-Sea is pure blue blood country with boats and Volvos and no Lethargic Lumberjacks. (I am sure the drugs are of higher quality, as are the Fisher Cats who may actually be lions.)
Nor is it Manchester, CT, which is filled with... honestly, I have never been to Manchester, CT, so let's just go with the fact that it might not be by the sea.
Back in 1989, the town declared itself to be officially "Manchester-by-the-Sea" as it truly is... and now each time you mention this fair village you must use that lengthy moniker...
Unless of course you are hand addressing envelopes for 100 people at Xmas time, in which case I have just passed a law that says it can be Manchester, MA.
Many times I just put an * next to that on the envelope so that people know my writing hand is cramping up like a hooker in a Hand Job-a-thon but that I really know that I live in Manchester-by-the-Sea.
Note to the one hooker in town: You need competition for it to be a Hand Job-a-thon so we may need to challenge the nearby towns of Essex-in-a-Tidal-Lowland and Gloucester-that-is-an-Island. I am willing to be your training partner.
But I digress... or do I? Hang on a minute. I have to think about the hooker for a minute.
Okay. That's better... where were we?
Oh yes, Manchester* is a small town indeed. The town hall is not open everyday and the council is not to meet again until April. Even odder, we don't have any Chinese food...
Which is okay, because in my last location I fell in love with this beautiful Chinese waitress... except I could never tell which one she was.
The mailman has really large and awkwardly placed teeth. This is a good thing as I am lousy with names. I always remember his.
He also walks around checking his email while delivering the mail. He fails to see the irony in this.
There's a quaint supermarket in town that has fabulous homemade foods, beer, wine, AND liquor. Their sign out front says "Open some holidays."
The grocery bagger has one eye that goes in a different direction. He and I have chased down a lot of fruit as he often misses the bag. I don't know his name but that's good as there aren't too many names that rhyme with "one eye" or "bag."
I saw him at the dinner today and sat beside him but couldn't shake the feeling he was staring at me.
Manchester* has more cemetery plots than people. Most of the cemeteries do not have non-decidedly WASP names in them such as mine. (And they are all named John. Even the women.) I believe that is what the landfill is for.
The oldest cemetery is from 1661. All the tombstones are mashed between giant trees that have sprouted up since... some right through the center of the graves! I love the old tombstones with the epitaphs. Here's one of my favorites from the old burial yard...
Here lyeth John
Whilst he did no good
The dead ladies love him
Sporting his new wood.
Well, dusk is upon us now so I must go tend to the fire and prepare the chowder. More soon...
What's in my hand?
It's a can of worms....
Here, let me open it....
Ready to see what is inside?
Honestly, people of Boston?? You are really getting upset by Bill Maher's Godzilla comment?
You do know he is a comedian right? You do know that he gets paid to be outrageous, right?
You do know that most of you watched a short clip taken out of the context of a longer show, right?
You do know he's right, right?
Yes. Our city was attacked. Three people died. Hundreds were hurt.
That sucked. Many people felt our pain.
Many saw the damage to our shops and restaurants.
While still raw and fresh to us because of its proximity, the rest of the world has moved on.
The Red Sox players and their bringing of the World Series trophy to the marathon finish line was beautifully symbolic.
For the parents of Martin who died. For the other victims. For the people who didn't feel safe to be on those 2 blocks of Boylston Street....
It was beautifully symbolic for us... in Boston.
Not so much for St. Louis.
Nor Los Angeles, who have had their own series of terrorist like attacks lately.
Gosh, I bet it doesn't even rate in Kenya now... even though they won... (The Boston Strong kiosk was damaged in the mall bombing, incidentally.)
The story of Boston has lost its National stage much like things like Sandy Hook or the Atlanta Olympic bombings did.
Time heals all in the fast moving news cycles of our world. It just doesn't heal as quickly near the epicenter... or for some of the families involved, at all.
We are right to be touched by symbolic sports gestures at this point. In Boston, we are right to enjoy the irony of the Red Sox winning a championship when we needed something to smile about. (Damn you Bruins for not doing it sooner! The Cup would have looked way cooler at the Finish Line.)
But I am pretty sure that there are lots of Philippines residents not wondering where their "Tacloban Strong" t-shirts and bracelets are now.
And you know there are a ton of marketing and business people who could make a lot of money and PR off of that too eventually.
Let's not become Boston Whiney.
(Note: This story was not written in Fukishima, Japan nor was it written on the one year anniversary of Super Storm Sandy. )
Okay... now that the can is open... let the debate begin below:
I was just in a restaurant and I heard a woman say "Shopping for my wedding dress was so overwhelming!"
Have we become that big of a society of pussies where using the wrong strength of adjective is a reality?
Trying to figure out how to feed all the starving children in the world seems like it would be overwhelming.
Having your face be on fire while a penguin violates your ass crack with his beak may be overwhelming.
But shopping for your wedding dress?
Will anyone ever remember what your wedding dress looked like? I can tell you that I remember every wedding dress I ever saw... they were all white, right?
People will remember if your nipple pops out over your wedding dress. People will remember if your marriage ends because your hubby was banging one of the bridesmaids. People will remember your wedding if you have a cash bar.
But your wedding dress.... and picking it out? Overwhelming?
No. But then again given today's namby-pamby American culture, maybe we can start a support group called "Wedding Dress Shopping Strong."
There will be t-shirts. And magnets. And bracelets.
As many of you know, I recently quit my job...with no other job lined up. This is something I have imagined doing for years.
I thought one day I would give notice to the world that I am no longer going to work dead end jobs, that bored me to tears, just to pay bills.
And I finally did it last week.
And it's scary as shit.
Those old habits and old jobs are calling me back and I just don't want to cave in. I want the courage to finally carve out the life I want, not one that society dictates.
So this is where I need your help. There are close to 1000 of you that I count among my friends here. It's like a small army.
Here's what I need from you.
Just check-in and share your thoughts and kind words. Help me figure out what my real calling is...
In all honesty, I have found all the stuff I have done thus far to have slightly depressed me. I am not sure I have lived fully yet, always taking the easy way out.
I want to finally be in the world by being Brian. So please support me, tease me, encourage me. Let me know I can do this...
You are all awesome!! Thank you!
Another year... another Halloween. Except, this year we had 300 kids come to our door. I almost ran out of watermelons!
Yes, for kids three and under, I give out full-sized watermelons. It's so precious to watch them stumble around, trying to carry the melons.... and eventually falling off the porch.
But the kids I can't stand though.... stupid little punks who come up to me as I am handing them candy and say "I can't have those because I have a peanut allergy."
Screw you, ya little wimps. At that point, I whip out an EpiPen and stab then right in the eye.
Then, I remind them that they will never amount to anything because someone could eliminate them from this planet with a well placed dollop of Jiff. Imagine if I could take out the CEO of a large corporation so easily.... or the guy lining up from me on a football field... me doused in my Eau de Nut cologne.
Yeah... imagine....hmmmm.... evolution, my ass.
Oh, don't think I am being a brutal and cranky old man. At least, the kids were outside for once. I'll give them points for that. Most of the time, no one is ever outside playing or whatever. They are inside. Texting. Gaming. Not eating peanuts. Recovering from falls with watermelons.
I wonder if panel van sales are down? No need to buy a creepy van if kids aren't outside for you to kidnap. I bet the van industry is just about toast.
And why are pedophiles always in a van? What a dead giveaway. Next time try showing up at local park in a Prius. No one would suspect anything weird from a person in a Prius...
Oh yeah.... you are right... they would.
I hate to beat a dead horse (Live horses are another thing. They are so responsive to beatings. The dead horse just sucks when it comes to beatings.) but here I go..
I am a homer when it comes to hockey over all other sports... but I definitely know when it comes to the NBA (National Baby Association), these two headlines help me prove my point:
Trying out a new joke. Does this one fly?
I love asking questions of zookeepers.
I was at the zoo the other day watching a giraffe.
A zookeeper walks up and I ask "Hey, with those long necks is it easier for them to lick themselves?"
The zookeeper looks at me and calls me a "Sick mother fucking pervert."
So I say "Well I guess you probably wouldn't drag another giraffe over here for me so I can see how they 69?"
You know what creatures probably never 69?
Why are there sawfishes?
You know what I'm talking about, right? Not a swordfish but a sawfish. They have saws on their snouts.
What is this for? Maybe they are the carpenters of the sea? Might explain why they are always late.
Jesus was a carpenter. Maybe sawfishes are the Jesuses of the sea?
"Hey. I can cut my own cross."
"What else could we use the woold for? Can't start a fire down here."
"Well I bet BP could."
Sure. Sure. Lots of websites are banning commenting due to trolls. Sites like Facebook have become just a place for people to dump their asshole (usually Right-Wing) opinions while hidden safely behind their firewall...
But none of that has ever really wanted me to consider taking away a person's right to Freedom of Speech... until today...
This is what I saw:
People are offering up comments on comics. I mean, I certainly need a certain amount of Social Media love everyday, but comics? Really? You could just go join a chat room or pay for online sex?
And they are stupid comments like "Nice weather today, huh?"
Honestly, I don't believe we need more jobs in this country. We need to admit some folks are unemployable and should be chained to their beds.
Please comment below...
Been reading some old blog posts of mine. Thought I'd share a few:
I honestly didn't want to have one of those moments today. I simply wanted to take my 5 year-old daughter to the farm by our house to look at some barnyard animals.
Then, these two ducks I decided that they really liked each other... and I mean really like each other.
Of course, next came the "Daddy, what are they doing?"
Quickly I decided that "They're wrestling over a piece of chocolate."
Which met with a "Daddy, I didn't know ducks like chocolate."
Followed by me saying "Well, Mommy Duck likes it but Daddy Duck doesn't want it all to go to her ass so he is trying to take it away. C'mon, lets go see the horsie."
July 13 2003:
I am never one to be sexist or purposely go out of my way to have fun at the cost of a woman's anatomy but here is a great boob joke:
Q: How do you make 5 pounds of fat look good?
A: Put a nipple on it.
Oh, by the way, I was completely lying up there in the first paragraph.
May 29, 2001:
I came across a pair of women's panties the other day. They weren't in a drawer nor were they in a lingerie shop or anything like that. These panties were sitting smack dab in the middle of a strip mall parking lot.
I stopped to ponder them and their location. What makes a woman just shed her undies in such a place? I am sure this knowledge would have been a tremendous help in surviving my teen years. Perhaps they literally took the thought of a "strip" mall as the word of God.
Could the location itself just been too overpowering? "Ohhh the incessant hum of the overhead lights combined with the linear shape of this plaza makes me so excited! Take me now!"
Or was it the heady blend of the Asian American Nail Salon, Greek Pizza, and Tuxedo rentals that made them shuck it all to the wind screaming "Nudism here I come!"
Of course, this all could be related to the random single sneaker or boot you often see in a road. It could just be a long hike full of random clothes tossing until finally, completely nude, the individual stops right there to form a clothing optional, alternative lifestyle community.
For some reason when I saw a post on Wal-Mart and living wages, I went on this diatribe of posting comments. Call me a troll... or call me Ishmael.
Brian G. Lewandowski I formed a Farm Gang once. We used hay as weapons and beat other Fram Gang's chickens until they sqwawked.
Brian G. Lewandowski We called ourselves the Petticoat Junction Kings.
Brian G. Lewandowski We didn't need no stinkin' school.
Brian G. Lewandowski We had bacon and love... with cousins.
Brian G. Lewandowski Life was good. Then they built the big Mega-Farm down the street. Closed our farm right down. Now we eat Chinese vegetables and play Farmville.
I didn't carry a bag to work today.
I realized that the soul purpose of my messenger bag was to carry my lunch. Today, I brought no lunch. Therefore, the double realization became that I needed no bag.
I stuffed the minutiae that I need into my pockets and set out for the great place of employment.
And I felt so wrong.
Everyone carries a bag; some people two. I saw a women with a bag with a purse in it and then a gym bag.
People stared at me. I didn't feel right. I think there are certain hours of the day in the city where you must carry a bag, otherwise you look underemployed... or like a ticket scalper... or a mob guy going to shake someone down... or worse yet... purposeless.
Even a bag lady seemed more important than me. From 8 AM until 6 PM, this was a bag bearing type of town.
I saw a friend on the way. He had his bag. I told him about not carrying one and how I felt.
He looked at me and said "What's next? Are you going to just start going to work naked?"
Well, they always say you should dress for the job you want, not the one you have.
New York, NY – While almost everyone you know seems to be in an uproar over the recent report that the National Security Agency has been monitoring phone calls of private citizens, one fellow is downright giddy about it.
“I could kiss Edward Snowden, I really could.And I mean hard on the lips.” says Jason Mills of Lake Ronkonkama, NY. “I have been waiting for this miraculous day for years.”
Mills, 36, who has a new found love for the infamous whistleblower, also has a drinking problem. Therefore, he has missed out on various parts of his life due to what he calls “The Hennessey’s Haze”, his term for his frequent blackouts.
He now hopes that government can use some of their phone lists to help him piece together missing parts of his life.
“They say if Uncle Sam wants to find you, he will. Well, I want to find Uncle Sam.” Quipped Jason. “Our bearded symbol of liberty may just be able to tell me what happened on April 13, 2011 between 12:34 AM and somewhere about 3:45 AM. All I know is that I ended up with a crying, hysterical hooker and a dead ostrich in a hotel room. I have no idea why. Maybe these phone call records can help.”
If he can learn more about that night, he hopes the information that the government has collected can help also explain the tattoo on his left buttocks that says “Shemp”, as well as the four cars parked in various trees in his yard.
My original inquiry was on returns…
You have been connected to Nordstrom Live Chat. Susan McLain has seen your question and will be with you shortly.
Susan M: Good Morning Brian!
Susan M: I would be happy to
answer any questions you may have about returning.
Susan M: We do offer no timeframe on returns.
Susan M: They are also free when you use our pre-paid return label.
Brian: Well, mine is more of a history research question about rerurns.
Brian: Returns... sorry, I have giant thumbs.
Susan M: No problem.
Brian: Actually giant thumbs are a problem... I have to wear my mittens reversed in winter because my thumbs are buigger than my fingers.
Brian: Bigger...thumbs again
Susan M: Sorry to hear that!
Susan M: Did you need me to check on a past return?
Brian: I look like a first grade cartoon drawing where my hands are on backwards. hahah!
Brian: As for the returns, is the legend true that Nordstrom once took back a tire, even though you don't sell tires?
Susan M: Never heard this before.
Brian: I am doing research. Supposedly the Nordstrom legend is about that tire... way back when in Seattle.
Susan M: Sorry I have not heard this story.
Susan M: I guess others have heard about this and we did return a tire once.
Brian: I was going to ask if the store kept the tire because you still don't sell tires. I was wondering if it was in storage someplace or if maybe someone had finally used it..
Susan M: I am unsure what happened with the tire.
Brian: I bet the manager went out in the alley behind the store and sold it to some homeless guy. "Hey buddy. Want a tire? Some bozo in my store accepted it as a return. I fired them."
Susan M: We are about customer service and this was the right thing to do.
Susan M: No one was fired.
Brian: True. VAMPIRE BATS ARE EATING MY EYES!
Brian: Ooops...Sorry. Big thumbs again.
Brian: Meant to say "Thank you for your help."
Susan M: It was a pleasure to assist you today.
Susan M: Enjoy your day!!
This chat has ended.
CAMBRIDGE, MA – At approximately 11:53 PM on Wednesday evening, the last possible and useful domain name on the Internet was purchased.
According to staff at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Center for Useful Naming Terms, a gentleman in Spokane, WA purchased the domain name “slapmybananayumangoeatinglass.com” and thus the world was left with nonsensical URLs to choose from like “splat345noogienoogie.org” and “donaldtrumpshairisreal.com.”
“We were actually surprised that it took this long said spokesperson Michelle Narzwalli. “Our computers had figured that all possible coherent domains would be spoken for by 2011. Our prognostications were off by 2 years but we have also noticed a general dumbing down of the Internet Society since the advent of the Tea Party. It just took humans a bit longer to catch up with our calculations.”
The Center came to fruition after worried computer engineers were frightened by an incorrect news report in 1997 that stated “ourladyofsaliva.edu” was the last possible domain name. The report was redacted after it was discovered that the writer also believed that A.O.L. CDs were the peak of human technological advancement.
Supercomputers were assembled and algorithms were run. As of today, those computers will be unplugged. Their work is complete.
“All things considered,” Narzwalli added “We had a good run. All we can do now is to tip our hats to our friend in Spokane and hope that he has fun with his banana and his mango eating gal pal.”
I bruised and cut my face, head and nose this past weekend. The sad pathetic truth is that I was drunk, tripped over a bush, and planted it onto a sidewalk noggin first.
However, having to return to work with such a pathetic tale… well, I wasn’t going to let that happen.
So here are the top things I’ve said to people when they ask about my facial wounds:
“I actually got around to trying Mountain Biking… on a tricycle.”
“I did one of those paid scientific experiments at the university. You really can’t open a microwave just using your face.”
“I tried to go down on this really hot looking porcupine.”
“I’m dating Chris Brown again.”
“My New Age Meditation class focused on empathy this weekend. We tried to feel what a bird feels when it flies into a window.”
“I was at a Mickey Rourke fan convention.”
“It turns out that you actually need a Slip and Slide to do a Slip and Slide.”
“You should have seen the other girl.”
“I sneezed into a cactus.”
“The midgets finally got sick of my jokes. They got a ladder and roughed me up.”
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B.G. Lewandowski: I was wondering if you made custom jackets for people with handicaps…
Cathleen: Hello B G Lewandowski, I apologize, but we don’t have any custom made products, except for our tote bags.
B.G. Lewandowski: Rats. I have a cousin who has an extra arm… yes, really… I was hoping to get something with a third sleeve.
B.G. Lewandowski: How could a tote bag be customized for him?
Cathleen: Well, it’s not necessarily custom made for people with disabilities, it’s just our only custom made product.
B.G. Lewandowski: Oh… so it couldn’t be made with three handles instead of two?
Cathleen: Um, no. But it could be black and green, or purple and yellow.
B.G. Lewandowski: I don’t want his extra arm to feel left-out. I want it to have a purpose. A 3 handled tote bag would do just that.
B.G. Lewandowski: So it’s just colors. Could I get a nickname sewn on it?
Cathleen: Yes, just colors, and a monogrammed name, if you’d like.
B.G. Lewandowski: So I could do something like “Triple Threat” or like that or is it just initials?
Cathleen: You can get anything you’d like as long as it doesn’t go over, I think it’s 30 characters.
Cathleen: Characters as in letter, numbers, symbols, not interesting personality types.
B.G. Lewandowski: Oh wow. I could do a lot with 30 characters. So one last question for you…
B.G. Lewandowski: Is it true that the L.L. in “L.L. Bean” stands for “Lucky Larry?”
Cathleen: I’ve never heard that. I was told it stands for Leon Leonwood Bean.
Cathleen: Lucky Larry Bean?
Cathleen: That would be an interesting story.
B.G. Lewandowski: Ahh… well now I know. Okay. Thanks for the help. I am off to find a store that sells mittens in three packs. Happy holidays!
Cathleen: Good Luck! Happy Holidays to you as well! Thanks for the chuckles.
B.G. Lewandowski: Your’re welcome. Tell Lucky Larry I send my best too.
Cathleen: I will definitely let him know……….when I find him.
B.G. Lewandowski: Nice!
Cathleen: Have a nice day!
B.G. Lewandowski: You too! Toodles!
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