My Latest Confession
I tore the tag off of my mattress. I did it more than seven years ago and no one has come to arrest me.
I stepped on a crack, but I didn’t break my mother’s back. I would have been happy, but the sidewalk groaned.
I tried to be like Cool Papa Bell. I turned the light out and ran so fast I was asleep in bed before it got dark. Unfortunately, I stubbed my toe and crashed into the mattress and slammed into the wall. Oops.
When I was a junior in college I had a little incident in the Sierra Tower. It was in between classes and I was heading down the stairs when I noticed that my shoe was untied. I stopped in place and bent over to tie my shoe.
The buy behind me must not have noticed and went right over my back and fell down two stairs and landed on his back. I stood up and ran over to him to ask if he was ok. He said hat he was fine and then told me that he was going to kill the guy that pushed him.
I saw a mountain masquerading as a man racing down the stairs and said “there he goes!” Clearly it wasn’t true but when “flat on his back boy” saw how big he was he reconsidered chasing him.
In 1987 I helped to instigate one of the largest food fights you have ever seen. I still have this crazy dream to be in one of those crazy Three Stooges Pie Fights.
Back in the salad days of the late ’80s I had my parking ticket at the Century City mall validated twice on the same day. I managed to convince the parking attendant that he owed me a $1.40.
On a different occasion I convinced Peter the Meter reader not to give me a parking ticket. I told him that I was a talent scout and that we were searching for a man who could play a post man on television. Maybe he bought it or maybe he thought it was clever, either way it got me out of a $40 ticket.
I watched a highlight of Lebron James and fondly remembered how lucky he is that we didn’t play before I broke my ankle because in 1989 I would have completely dominated him. For that matter I would have taken on him Carmelo Anthony and Kobe and won handily.
Someone once told me that if they had a nickel every time wished that they were younger he would be rich. I told him that he’d need the money to pay for the hernia surgery. That is a lot of nickels.
Back in the early ’80s LA Hebrew High school used to have these weekend sleepovers at the Malibu House. They were pretty cool.
Sometimes I watch TBN and wonder if they got their hairdressing tips from watching The B52s in concert.
Jackie Mason used to have a line where he talked about how people say that if someone had said “just one more word, they would have killed them.” I always appreciated that story. I am still trying to figure out what word that would be.
If you had to choose between being Homer or Bart Simpson who would you be. I have to go with Homer.
If you had to choose between being called Meatball or Hot Pie which would it be? Really, I remember these guys in junior high who were called those names, can’t say that I want to be called either one. Maybe it is cleveland thing, eh Shmata Queen.
LiquiDiamonds January 9, 2006 at 4:46 am
I’d rather be Monty Burns…”excellent”
Jack – I recentlt tore the tags off my silk toss pillows…if the Tag Police Show up at my house, I will label you as a snitch, or worse: Bart Simpson.
Jack's Shack January 9, 2006 at 1:20 am
In my youth I would have destroyed King James. I would have gladly taken him on in 1989 and made him feel foolish.
Ezzie January 8, 2006 at 6:25 pm
:::KING JAMES::: 🙂
Jack's Shack January 8, 2006 at 5:29 am
Nope, say three “our fathers” and give me a hail mary for good luck and I’ll absolve you of all sin,
Chickadee January 7, 2006 at 10:20 pm
I laughed outloud when I read how the guy fell over you and landed on his back. LAUGHED OUT LOUD. Is that wrong?
Jack's Shack January 7, 2006 at 7:17 pm
Yes, the mattress police, but thus far I have eluded them. They must be too busy sleeping.
There is something loveable about Homer.
anybody January 6, 2006 at 11:50 pm
Why Homer? He’s the fat old guy, remember? Bart is young. A pain in the ass, but young!
Soccer Dad January 6, 2006 at 5:53 pm
Remember the “mattress police?”