About two hours into our flight from Philadelphia to Cancun, I discovered that I had committed The Biggest Fuck-Up of All Time … like, to the extent that I knew it would be best for my marriage if I just went ahead and threw myself out of the aircraft. Which was a shame, really … because everything had been going so well.
Buffoonery
Still headbanging after all these years
There are so many things wrong with this photo (not the least of which is the fact that I was standing in the bathroom at midnight taking a picture of myself in the mirror), or at least why this photo came to be, that I hardly know where to begin.
When up on the roof, there arose such a clatter …
It wasn’t that I thought placing the ladder’s feet on the cement-and-flagstone walkway was necessarily a good idea … it’s just that that’s where I needed it to be in order to properly secure the Christmas lights to the gutter above the front door. I already had tried standing on the threshold of the doorway, but I couldn’t quite reach the gutter from there. A stepladder probably would have been the way to go, but it was getting darker and colder and I already had spent more time than I could afford trying to string up all of this holiday cheer, so fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?
Subject: No cellphone
To: [Lots of people]
Hi, this is Jon. I can’t get to the phone right now because it shattered into a million pieces on Interstate 95 early last evening. Its pieces are intermingled with those of the six-hour-old BlackBerry Curve that I received from my employer yesterday. I left both on the roof of my car while transporting my family from point A to point B. Total estimated retail value: $700.
If you need to reach me, please call me on my home phone … which I probably won’t answer, because I’m busy throwing up.
Thanks.
I propose a toast to you, my readers
So, yesterday morning, I went for a short run (redundant, really, since “short” is the only kind of run I ever seem to go for, if at all), and returned home feeling all fit and spry — and hungry. This last part is always a challenge, because the extent of my culinary abilities is limited to boiling and toasting — or so I thought. Turns out I can remove “toasting” from my cooking résumé.
