Friday, November 10, 2006


“Babe, why is one of my shoes on the floor in your bathroom?”

“Pick it up.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a bug.”

“You used one of my dress shoes to kill a bug?”

“Well I wasn’t going to use one of my shoes.”

“Why didn’t you use your sword?”

“I didn’t want to get it dirty.”

“Uh… So you decided it was okay to use one of my shoes?”

“You weren’t home and I walked into my bathroom and this huge bug was on the floor. What was I supposed to do? I grabbed the biggest thing I could find and I bashed it.”

“Why did you leave my shoe there?”

“I wasn’t sure it was dead and I was afraid to lift up your shoe to find out.”

“You weren’t sure it was dead? You hit it with a 13EEE Florsheim!!!”

“What if it was only wounded?”

“Does that look wounded to you?”

“Not really.”

“Not really? You think that flattened blob is faking it?”

“No, it’s obviously dead.”

“Ya think.”

“So… just clean it up, clean up your shoe, and let’s just forget about it.”

“Wait a minute. Why should I clean it up? You killed it?”

“It’s gross.”

“So just because it’s disgusting you automatically assume it’s my responsibility to clean it up?”

“You’re the man.”

“Yes I am. I’m the man. The man who has to clean up dead bug gunk from his shoe and his wife’s bathroom floor. I’m the man. I’m the real man. Woohoo!!! I’m the man! Lot of benefits around here for the “man”, I can’t wait to tell all my friends that I’m the man.”

“Are you done?”

“No I’m not. What if I don’t feel like cleaning it up? What if I just leave it there?”

“Fine… I’ll just throw the shoe away. Doesn’t matter to me, it’s your lucky shoe.”


“It was the first one I found.”

“You don’t touch my lucky shoes; no one is supposed to touch my lucky shoes. They’re lucky for a reason. You don’t bash bugs with my lucky shoes.”

“The bug didn’t think they were so lucky.”

“I wear those shoes on stage for Christ’s sake. You can’t murder something with one of my lucky shoes and then expect me to just go on stage like nothing happened.”

“Murder? You think I murdered a bug?"

“That’s not the point. The entire time I’m on stage I’ll be thinking about the bug gunk on the bottom of my shoe. They’re for making people laugh not bashing bugs. Now what am I supposed to do?”

“It’s a shoe... That’s a... was a bug, get over it.”

“What if I grabbed your purse and bashed a spider with it?”

“When you regained consciousness you’d be buying me a new purse.”

“I can’t believe it... I just can’t believe you would bash a bug with one of my lucky shoes.”

“Let me ask you a question Calabrese, what’s more important? Having a calm happy wife with a bug free bathroom and a lucky shoe with a little bug gunk on it, or a wife who is constantly “bugging” you to find the bug that got away because she couldn’t kill it with your lucky shoe?”

“Look at me Calabrese.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“This blows.”

“Where are you going?”

“Outside to bury this bug.”

“You’re going to give a funeral to bug gunk?”

“I can’t take the chance you jinxed my lucky shoes. If I bury the bug gunk, say a few words, maybe everything will be okay.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

“I am not going with you to bury that bug.”

“Yes you are, you’re the killer, and you have to be there.”

“I can live with myself as a bug killer.”

“It’s bad Karma.”

“It’s a bug.”


“We are gathered here today to say farewell to this…. What kind of bug was it?”

“Just bury the damn thing.”

“It would be nice to know what I’m burying.”

“Its bug gunk, smashed bug, bashed bug, squashed bug I’m going back inside this is stupid.”

“Mr. Bug died violently at the hands of a forty eight year old premenopausal woman with a Florsheim. We really didn’t know this bug…OUCH!!!! Damn!!! Put down that shoe!!!”



“No… I hit you in the back of the head with one of your lucky shoes. Do you want me to hit you again?”

“No of course not… Um…. Whoa!!! Don’t move….”


“Trust me… now hand me my shoe… very slowly…..”

“Oh my god! Something is on me! What is it?”

“It might be the brother of “bug gunk” over there.”

“Wait! You are not going to hit me with that shoe!”

“What if it wants revenge?”


“GOT HIM!!!!”

“IDIOT!!! I told you not to hit me with that shoe!!!”

“I didn’t hit you with the shoe; I brushed it off of you with the shoe.”

"You stepped on it.”

“He’s dead now.”

“What was it?”

“Uh… Well it looks a lot like “bug gunk” only bigger.”

“Now we’re both killers. Where are you going?”

“To buy a new pair of lucky shoes.”