The Yankees are coming!!! The Yankees are coming!!!
I haven’t had much time to write lately I’ve…. Um….
Have ever had one of those months where…well… How can I put this?
Let’s say you’re at the grocery store and your kids are misbehaving, pulling food and things off the shelves, fighting, screaming, opening candy bars etc. Nothing is working to calm them down. You threaten to take the TV away, the computer, the X-Box, even the dreaded “timeout” but nothing is working. So finally out of desperation you spank em, you swat em on the rear end……
Then you realize that you didn’t bring you’re kids to the store with you that day and some woman is yelling for security.
That sums up the last month.
No I didn’t spank anyone…
I set myself on fire.
That’s right...
I set myself on fire.
Let me explain. I’ve been working on this video for a conference of bank presidents in Charleston, South Carolina. It’s a satire on banking. I play all the characters in the video. One character is a soothsayer that predicts interest rates. Imagine the old Carnac character from the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. One of the props is an altar to Alan Greenspan… with candles….lit candles…
You’re starting to get the picture…..
During the filming I knocked a phone off the hook that was placed on the floor next to me, I bent over to put it back on the hook and when I bent over the feathers on my turban went right into the lit candles.
I didn’t know it right away.
Not until the turban was on fire.
It only took about ten seconds.
Ten seconds is a very long time when your turban is on fire.
It’s very hard to look cool with a burning turban.
But being the consummate professional that I am I pulled the turban off of my head, blew and patted out the fire, and then put the burnt smoking turban back on my head and finished the scene as if nothing happened.
It’s all on tape.
The burning turban version is now the official version and is in the video that went with me to Charleston.
If I could figure out how to post the clip here I would.
How do you explain to your wife that you set yourself on fire?
“Honey I’m home! First of all I’m okay.”
“Christ what did you do now.”
“I… uh… set myself on fire.”
“You need a keeper.”
“I didn’t set myself on fire on purpose.”
“Oh that’s a plus.”
“It wasn’t my fault they should have used stunt fire.”
“Stunt fire?”
“Um….. I finished the scene.”
“Idiot.”
So I spent the last week in Charleston, South Carolina.
I booked my flight using Expedia.
Expedia is a Greek word that means, “How pissed off do you want your wife?”
I was in row 23.
My wife was in row 12.
It cost me another $560 dollars to get us to sit together.
I should have left her in row 12.
When we arrived in Charleston I couldn’t help but notice that Charleston is a lot like San Diego except their ocean is on the wrong side.
If I could some up Charleston in one sentence it would be...
“I see black people.”
It is a very odd thing, never having ventured in to the south, to be waited on and catered to by black people.
Everyone was so nice. It was, “Yes sir and no sir and what else may I get you sir?”
I have never felt so guilty and uncomfortable in my life.
I wanted to free them.
In San Diego there are so many different cultures and races mingled together that you just never think about race.
In San Diego you can go to a Mexican restaurant and have food cooked by a Korean chef, served by an Italian waitress and your table cleared by an Iraqi bus boy while you have a drink made by an albino lesbian Filipina bartender.
We stayed at the Charleston Place Hotel. It had a shopping mall built inside the hotel.
Who the hell builds a mall inside a hotel?
Communist bastards.
I felt my Visa card groan in agony as my wife disappeared in to the Charleston mist.... inside the hotel...
They had mist inside the hotel!!!!
(to be continued)
Have ever had one of those months where…well… How can I put this?
Let’s say you’re at the grocery store and your kids are misbehaving, pulling food and things off the shelves, fighting, screaming, opening candy bars etc. Nothing is working to calm them down. You threaten to take the TV away, the computer, the X-Box, even the dreaded “timeout” but nothing is working. So finally out of desperation you spank em, you swat em on the rear end……
Then you realize that you didn’t bring you’re kids to the store with you that day and some woman is yelling for security.
That sums up the last month.
No I didn’t spank anyone…
I set myself on fire.
That’s right...
I set myself on fire.
Let me explain. I’ve been working on this video for a conference of bank presidents in Charleston, South Carolina. It’s a satire on banking. I play all the characters in the video. One character is a soothsayer that predicts interest rates. Imagine the old Carnac character from the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. One of the props is an altar to Alan Greenspan… with candles….lit candles…
You’re starting to get the picture…..
During the filming I knocked a phone off the hook that was placed on the floor next to me, I bent over to put it back on the hook and when I bent over the feathers on my turban went right into the lit candles.
I didn’t know it right away.
Not until the turban was on fire.
It only took about ten seconds.
Ten seconds is a very long time when your turban is on fire.
It’s very hard to look cool with a burning turban.
But being the consummate professional that I am I pulled the turban off of my head, blew and patted out the fire, and then put the burnt smoking turban back on my head and finished the scene as if nothing happened.
It’s all on tape.
The burning turban version is now the official version and is in the video that went with me to Charleston.
If I could figure out how to post the clip here I would.
How do you explain to your wife that you set yourself on fire?
“Honey I’m home! First of all I’m okay.”
“Christ what did you do now.”
“I… uh… set myself on fire.”
“You need a keeper.”
“I didn’t set myself on fire on purpose.”
“Oh that’s a plus.”
“It wasn’t my fault they should have used stunt fire.”
“Stunt fire?”
“Um….. I finished the scene.”
“Idiot.”
So I spent the last week in Charleston, South Carolina.
I booked my flight using Expedia.
Expedia is a Greek word that means, “How pissed off do you want your wife?”
I was in row 23.
My wife was in row 12.
It cost me another $560 dollars to get us to sit together.
I should have left her in row 12.
When we arrived in Charleston I couldn’t help but notice that Charleston is a lot like San Diego except their ocean is on the wrong side.
If I could some up Charleston in one sentence it would be...
“I see black people.”
It is a very odd thing, never having ventured in to the south, to be waited on and catered to by black people.
Everyone was so nice. It was, “Yes sir and no sir and what else may I get you sir?”
I have never felt so guilty and uncomfortable in my life.
I wanted to free them.
In San Diego there are so many different cultures and races mingled together that you just never think about race.
In San Diego you can go to a Mexican restaurant and have food cooked by a Korean chef, served by an Italian waitress and your table cleared by an Iraqi bus boy while you have a drink made by an albino lesbian Filipina bartender.
We stayed at the Charleston Place Hotel. It had a shopping mall built inside the hotel.
Who the hell builds a mall inside a hotel?
Communist bastards.
I felt my Visa card groan in agony as my wife disappeared in to the Charleston mist.... inside the hotel...
They had mist inside the hotel!!!!
(to be continued)
posted by Shrinking Wop at 4:58 PM
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