Sorry guys, I have too much going on today to do 'lash it. As a substitute, I asked my neighbor from down the hall, Mr. Pappademetrios, if he'd fill in. He graciously accepted. Enjoy.
Claude's Corner
by Claude Pappademetrios
First, let me put something right out in the open here. My wife, Clarissa, does not support this. I told her I was going to be writing on a website for our neighbor Cody last night, and she blew up on me like a Korean boombox.
"What the hell do you know about writing a web site? And who in the hell is Cody?" she demanded, her arm cocked back, ready to throw a can of peaches at me if my answer didn't meet her approval.
"What do you think I am, some sort of pants-wearing monkey?" I yelled. "I hate to lord my success over you, but for over 30 years, I was the SOLE WRITER for the annual newsletter we sent out from Lamar's Tire and Battery to all of our corporate customers. Do you even know that I got compliments about that newsletter? That every December, I'd get phone calls from CLIENTS asking when Claude's Christmas what-have-you was coming out? So yes, I do know a little something about the delicate art of the english language, Clarissa. Unlike you, who practically clucked a chicken with your Spanish jibber jabber when we first met."
"You didn't even answer my question," she said.
"Ahh, the hell with you, I'm taking a bubble bath!"
Thank God for that seaweed and peony body scrub my grandkids gave to Clarissa for Christmas last year. At least one of us in this dump should have some skin that feels nice! But hey, that's women for you. You can't live with em, and you can't turn em in to INS after you've already married them. I don't think you can, at least. Maybe someone who's more Internet literate can check that for me. I don't know a BRB from a PCP (stay off the drugs!).
Why doesn't anyone know how to write in cursive anymore? At the grocery store last night, the fella in front of me was printing his check out and I asked him, "What, don't you know how to write?" I chuckled when I said it; I wasn't being mean. Boy, did he take it the wrong way. He knocked my basket of vitamins to the floor and told me my overalls were stupid. Learning cursive is pointless and functional clothing is stupid; I give up with the younger generation!
Well, I better call it quits for this time. Clarissa wants us to practice on some Christmas carols that we can perform at our big family get-together here in a few weeks. When Clarissa sings, it sounds like a donkey getting castrated. "Why don't you just play the maracas while I sing?" I asked her. She didn't say anything, but she gave me a look that said, "Watch out, buster!" I thought Hispanics were rhythmic? Maybe someone could check that out on the Internet too. I'll meet you back next time at Claude's Corner!
Posted by Cody at December 2, 2004 09:35 AM