Batman: Year One

If you know anything about living, you know that life recycles certain themes. For my roommate Lacy and I, it’s bad plumbing. If I didn’t have this blog I might have forgotten lessons learned from a previous encounter with bad plumbing. Read about encounter here. So what did I learn from the last time our plumbing threw in the towel? Peeing in the shower is better than peeing in the backyard and peeing at Smiths is better than peeing in the shower. The Rotor Rooter is still scary, as it attacked Lacy last night. An aspiring superhero, such as myself, prays for their big break into the super hero trade. This was my big break to save Lacy from certain death or at least devastation. In my moment of truth, I turned out to be a gutless coward and Lacy was eaten up by the Rotor Rooter and all the terrible things you could imagine coming up with the Rotor Rooter. Isn’t it ironic that a coward, such as myself, could be so obsessed with super heroes?

Meet my nemesis. My affliction. My plague and scourge. The Rotor Rooter.

You Remind me of a Winter Storm

It’s January 4th and the furnace has said its final goodbye as the heat slowly seeped out of the cracks of our house. In the winter I become a hermit to avoid the unforgiving cruelty of winter. I stay in my pajamas. I read a lot of books and comics. Watch a lot of movies. And do a lot of blogging. Anything that allows me to stay under blankets. I make excuses to not run any errands that involve leaving the house. Well my winter game plan has been spoiled with the slow death of our central heating. Right now I'm wearing every article of clothing I own. My bed is stacked high with every blanket I own. Lacy and I have consumed everything hot in the kitchen. I’m not sure how there were life forms before central heating. Surely everything existed after furnaces and cell phones. One other thing, I’m convinced nothing is more unattractive than long-underwear.


And my socks haven’t matched in years.

Christmas, The End of 2008 and The End of All Things (An ihatemylife.com Production)

The holidays were rather generous to me. Christmas was full of fancy salamis, warm, moist hand towelettes and Christmas cheer. It was especially generous considering we’re marching forward into economic desperation and recession. I’m glad I went out with a bang, not a quiet whimper.

There is no need for excess where we’re headed. I’ll have to pon off my satin sheets and ivory tusks. Sell everything and live the life I’ve always dreamed of: my tiny cottage with a fire place for warmth and a garden. Just me in my drop-bottom flannel full-body pajamas, a dusty book and an old record player. And I’ll eat porage. I’ll hang old socks with holes above the fire place next Christmas. I’ll be my own Tiny Tim story in 2009 and then I’ll understand its true meaning. I doubt it involves fancy salamis.

I don’t know what the future holds. My dark side, which embraces the spirit of chaos, couldn’t help but feel the curious hush and last whispers of American gluttony. And then my honest side thought, “Dude, how could I even breathe with out all forms of Comcast?!”
[Pushin the Drop Bottoms in 2009]