Thursday, January 12, 2006

And We're Back

It has been over a month since this was last updated. For those who noticed, I apologize and it shant happen again. Beginning on January 16, I will have 2 updates a week. One will be every Monday by 9 pm. The other will be a floater day or whenever I feel like writing. Please welcome this humble scribe, who has guaranteed at least two posts a week, back into your life.


In an unrelated note, I will be taking the stage at the Comedy Connection on Monday, February 6th, for Amateur night. I have to last at least 5 minutes and if you've slept with me you know that this is nearly impossible for me to do. I'm going for it anyway, so come on down. It will cost you 15 bucks but you've been getting this for free since September so I don't want to hear any complaints.



During my recent trip to Colorado it was brought to my attention that a member of the 2000 ORR Football team was stricken inseason by Scurvy. You know scurvy, that disease that pirates used to get when their bodies went too long without vitamin C. And by too long I mean weeks and months baking in the Carribbean sun on a disease filled boat. This guy got it in Southeastern Massachusetts during football season. Either this is the most random affliction I have ever heard of or it is the all time absolute worst excuse to get out of practice. Why not just go up to your coach and say, "Listen, I am a total pussy and I do not want to play today or tomorrow....you know what, Ill be ready in a couple of weeks." I bet that was met with a better reception than, "Coach I cant go today"
"Why not"
"I got scurvy....came out of nowhere." Followed by the coach looking like he just had a frontal lobodomy. Looks like this guy's health plan didn't cover 'glasses of orange juice' or 'bites of clementines.'



The holidays have recently passed and I am disappointed that I did not fire off a seasonal entry. I will keep this brief since it is totally irrelevant on January 12, but I want to bestow upon my faithful reader(s) a few gifts crafted out of words.
I am 99% sure that when I have children someday I will not feed them lies about Santa Claus. We all remember when we found out that that fat fuck wasn't real. It is a traumatizing experience for a 14 year old to handle. Nothing about it makes sense. He travles by sleigh to every house in the world, leaving better gifts for the "good children" (kids who's parents have money) and leaving crappier gifts or sometimes nothing at all for the "bad kids" (who are obviously poor). Why not just sit your kid down and tell him that people with money are good, and people without money are bad. That is the basic idea that the legend of Santa is projecting.
And another thing that sucks about Christmas is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Santa can deliver presents to every house with a chimney on Earth, but a little fog hits and he has to call on a Reindeer with a 2 volt battery for a nose or else Christmas is lost? Buy some fucking lights you obese tub of shit. Fuck Rudolph.

On a lighter Christmas note I want to share a story about my dear old Grandmother. She has dished out some all star gifts in her day; a bottle of cologne shaped like a choo choo train that happened to smell like burnt matches, a black phil simms sweatshirt (in 1999) and a ratty stuffed Siberian Husky that served as an intended reminder to my mother of her precious dog that ran away 19 years earlier. She outdid herself several years ago, however, with a gift so legendary that it is referred to in the DiOrio household only as...."the shirt." Our expectations are always rock bottom and even we didn't understand what a gem we had in our possession until a few days later. Grandma gave my brother Adam a forest green crew neck sweat shirt, embroidered in paisly
with a huge purple and yellow LV on it. Across the LV read "Las Vegas." A hideous shirt, but basically par for the course. It wasn't until a few days later when we were looking through old photographs that the legend was born. In an envelope from the previous Easter, there is a photograph. At the center of this photograph is my smiling Grandmother, wearing a forest green, paisly embroidered Las Vegas sweatshirt. A used Christmas gift. To keep in line with family traditions I am going to give out old socks (that there is a 99% chance they have been jizzed in).




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