Archive for February, 2011

Bad Valentine’s Day Ideas

Posted: February 14, 2011 by S. Trevor Swenson in Advice
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Let’s face it, for most of us Valentine’s Day pretty much sucks. Certain holidays are just precursors to depression. Here are a few helpful hints to insure your Valentine’s Day lives up to its suckitude.

Drink 2 bottles of wine and call all of your ex’s. Cry, accuse them of ruining your life, then ask if they have any plans for tonight.

Pay a bag lady or homeless man to sing “You Are The Sunshine Of My Life” to you.

Buy yourself 6 huge overpriced  heart shaped boxes of low quality candy. Eat all of it while listening to Nine Inch Nails “The Downward Spiral”, then place a mirror across from you, take off all of your clothes and sit amidst all of the chocolate wrappers and stare at yourself.

In lieu of a date take a cousin of the opposite sex to an expensive dinner.  Drink too much and then confess that you always “thought they were kinda hot.”  This will also insure a miserable and uncomfortable Thanksgiving. Actually this would also work with a cousin of the same sex.

Hire a prostitute and pay them to pretend to be your Valentine. Make them write a “love poem” for you.

Spend the day at Wal-Mart, reading all the cards until you are asked to leave the store.

Call your parents and ask them if you’re ugly.

Buy a dermatology textbook. Drink 4 double espressos and look at the skin disorder photos while listening to Johnny Cash’s “Hurt”

Go to a karaoke bar alone and sing “Feelings”.  Repeat until people throw things at you

Sunday Sinus Situation

Posted: February 8, 2011 by S. Trevor Swenson in Me & Mine
Tags: , ,

I woke up Sunday afternoon with the worst allergy attack in ages. I can’t think where it came from as it is winter and there isn’t much pollen blowing about. Regardless, I was suffering. I tried to take myself to the gym, but it was impossible to work out, blow my nose, and disinfect my hands every 10 seconds.

In my youth I would take almost any drug as long as I could spell or pronounce it. It is strange that as an older man I have become completely pussified regarding drugs, even those of the over-the-counter variety. As far as drugs are concerned, I’ve gone from heroin with kamikaze shots to acting like a sissy pants and reading the warning labels on Benadryl more than 10 times before inserting one into my plumbing. I took one Benadryl and it wasn’t working so well, so I stopped by my local drug store to find something bigger and better to end my nasal misery.

It’s funny that in today’s fast paced world we have one hour photo developing, one hour dry cleaners, thirty second meals at fast food restaurants, pay per view movies at the click of a button . . . why can’t there be emergency drug stores? When you’re in desperate need of aspirin, douche, enemas, Nyquil, condoms or what have you; one shouldn’t have to wait in line.

I asked the nice pharmacist if it was OK for me to mix nasal spray with Benadryl, explaining that I was a serious pussy boy with a wunny widdle dose. She was very helpful and told me . . . “Mix away, you’ll be fine”. 4000 used tissues and sneezes later I had chosen the spray right for me. 12 Hour Relief . . . No fucking around, I wasn’t playing games with this. I was giving myself a double barrel dose as soon as I stepped out of the drugstore.

I stepped up to the register relieved to see there was only one woman in line in front of me. However, a speedy purchase was not in the cards. The woman in front of me was holding two multi symptom cold medicines. “How come these have the exact same ingredients, but this one costs more?” She asked the cashier. “Because” explained the nice man behind the counter, “One is a brand name and the other is a store brand generic, we charge less for our brand” The woman paused, looked at both of the boxes and asked again.” But why is this one cheaper?” Wonderful, I am a 200 lb fountain of snots and sneezes and God decides to involve me in one of his comedy sketches. For the next 10 minutes, this woman kept asking the poor cashier about the deep mysteries of generics vs. brand names. She was incapable of understanding. I gave the cashier a pleading look and pointed to my nose. He smiled sympathetically as if to say “Welcome to my world.” I scanned the counter for pens or nail files, something . . . ANYTHING to jam into this horrible woman’s ear with great force and violence. Nothing was within reach. My second thought was to put a finger to one nostril and let fly all over this woman as a subtle hint of my condition.

Mercifully, the man behind the counter said “Can I help you Sir?” Perhaps he was being kind, more likely was my disgusting, out of tissues dripping face. I paid for my spray, gave the dumb bitch the dirtiest look I could muster and ripped the box open while leaving the store. Thank you for Dristan God. Thank You