Thursday, May 21, 2015

Pirate Camp

Dear Mom and Dad,
I love it here at pirate camp. I know you wanted to make me more masculine so the others wouldn't pick on me at school. There are lots of rough boys here who fascinate me.
I got my ears pierced! I chose these fabulous ruby earrings which matched my violet stretch pants and you know how I adore stretch pants. I'm right this second wearing a flouncy white silk shirt with big shoulders  and ruffles and only two buttons so my chest will show. Errol Flynn! Did I mention the gold necklaces we wear with doubloons hanging there?
Sword fighting is so butch I love it. The camp counselors are all gorgeous, with their brown boy scout uniforms. They say I throw my dagger like a girl. Well that smarts.
I used my allowance to pick up these exquisite mid calf suede boots that make my thighs look thinner. I topped off my look with a lovely purple bandana. Hug me to death!
I made three kids walk the plank right into the pool.I practiced shouting AAARRRGGH! for hours. My voice got deep and raspy like Stallone.
Next week we get to tie kids to the mast.Maybe I'll be the one who gets tied up!
This is the bestest time ever ! Awesome sauce!.
Your loving son,

One Arm

Reggie hardly missed his missing arm. People assumed a shark had bitten it off, but, actually he fell asleep on it, cutting off all circulation. So it had to come off.
He gravitated toward shark training because he admired them. Eat, swim and defecate is all they did. But after ten years of this, stricter guidelines pushed by animal rights activists drove him out of the business.
For months he floated around lacking purpose. He needed a challenge.
One day while walking past a music store he saw something in the window that lit his imagination. He knew immediately where his future lay.
Reggie became the world's most proficient one armed xylophone player.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Bowling with Streisand

Talk about pressure. Try being on Barbra Streisand's bowling team. We bowl at a local lane every Tuesday night. Me, Randy Quaid, Paulie Shore, and Rosie Perez. Rosie and Barbra hate each other. Constant bickering, which impacts my concentration.
There can be no more pressure than being in the tenth frame in a tight match, standing there trying to focus while the songstress is sitting behind you snarling things like 'Don't screw this up, or you're walking home.'
She has a 208 average--Streisand is a great bowler, but very competitive, a perfectionist. The problem is she expects the rest of us to bowl up to her standards. More than once, her dictatorial leadership has left one or more of us in tears.
God help you if you roll a gutter ball.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

First Kiss

I got my first kiss at camp. Liz and I had gotten separated from the other campers. As night fell, it got chilly. We have to make a fire, she said. Words that struck terror in a city boy. I found two sticks and kept rubbing until my hands bled. No success. I was near tears. She grabbed my shoulders and kissed me on the lips. I love you anyway, she whispered.
Moments later we were rescued.
Later that month I returned to my job at Lehman Brothers. Hedge Fund Camp changed my life. I was a late starter and that kiss opened up new worlds.
Liz married the guy who saved us. She is now CEO of an International Cork Manufacturing Company.
I became a really good kisser.

Angry Barber

Get in here, Joseph.
Adolpho grabbed my shirt and dragged me inside. I was four minutes late and he was a stickler for punctuality.
He threw the sheet on me and tightened it around my neck with a flourish. Took the shaver and began cutting my hair, mumbling curses. After a minute, he growled, alright, what have you got?
This part made me lose sleep. I had to make small talk that interested him. I had failed miserably every other time.
Yanks won yesterday.
Not interested.
Ruth Rendall died. Great mystery writer.
Don't read.
Massive fires out west.
Could care less.
Underwent an operation for penile enhancement.
Hmmm. Tell me more.
Actually I made that up.
You are pathetic, Joseph.
You have high small talk standards, Adolpho.
Your trivia puts me to sleep. My next customer never shuts up. Always has great stories.
I have stories.
Let's hear them.
I can do accents and dialects.
You're right. And there's nothing wrong with my penis.

Mother's Day

I think I have the mom gene. If someone curses, first I slap them, then comes the hug.
Also, I enjoy wishing people. If I see a spec of dirt on someone's neck, I grab a washcloth and rub away.
My mom taught me to hang curtains. Soon I was good enough to hang drapes. That was the last new thing I learned.
I would ring neighbors' bells and ask if I could hang their drapes. The police were very polite, explaining the drape ordinance I was violating.
I could never fool mom for the same reason I can't fool anyone. My strict policy of honesty at all times. Except when I fool people into buying my book.s I need coffee money.
Happy Mother's Day.

The Clown

This clown needs to get laid. Look at his eyes. Anger, angst, aggravation, aggression, alienation. All the A words apply.
If I hated my kid I'd hire this clown for his birthday party.  That sledge hammer in his hand is incidental. It may as well be a chainsaw, Garrot, machete. This clown wants revenge on a cruel world, even the score.
I know women who would date this clown. They like the bad boys. They like it rough. They like men with big feet.
Therapy will not help this poor guy.