Got maced on Black Friday and all I got was this stupid TV

I went to shopping at Walmart to buy little things for my grandkids early Friday morning, like I do every Friday, and for some reason there was a huge mob of people running out of the store with stereos and TVs and bags of things at a frantic pace. Riot? Occupy Wall Street? World War 3? A black family moved in down the street? What was going on, and why hadn’t I heard about it on the Today Show?

See the look of horror on their faces?

Not one to break plans, I went in anyway. Inside, it was worse: pushing, biting, yelling, swearing, lighting things on fire, even a man crying on his knees next to a fallen friend. What was going on? I was so confused, more so than usual, so I tried to leave, but before I knew it someone had maced me and stolen my Hoveround, and when I finally crawled out and made it back to the bus stop, I somehow had a big screen 3D TV, a $2 waffle iron, and something for gardening called an iPod.

My grandchildren were so disappointed on Sunday when I showed up without the saltwater taffy I usually buy, and only had a TV and that iPod thingy to give them. I’ll make it up to them on Christmas by stuffing their stocking with extra boxes of raisins. Not sure what to do with this other stuff I left the store with…oh, what’s this? An XBox? What’s inside of an XBox? Sounds dirty. Where’s my letter opener…

– Jean


I proclaim my love for Stephanie Banks-Dickson, I pray her husband doesn’t read this.

I henceforth thus proclaim mine undying affection for the fair maiden Stephanie of the house of Banks-Dickson. Though she be wed to an’other, though she feigns not to know of my existence since our days in high school, and though she has oft times complained of me to the local authorities, I can no longer hold my tongue! (Hopefully thy husband is not a reader of this blog, else our exchange be known and he beat the crap out of me)

If I am yet found wanting of thy love, may I be stricken with the plague, or even a zombie virus, for this past fortnight I have played “Left 4 Dead 2” on King Jeff’s “Box of X” and have not only found the game to be most favorable, but the fate of the undead to be most gruesome, and would rather wander the world as one of these loathsome creatures than live a life without thy love. I’d rather endure that torment than live without the ability to call thy number and then quickly hang up when thou answerest, a life where I can no longer wear the headband you dropped at last year’s 5k, a life where I cans’t not pluck hair from thine hairbrush when thou are’st gone and use it to make dolls of thee and our unborn’ed children. Such a world would be a ghoulish nightmare indeed.

Without thy love, going on quests to Little Caesar’s PIzza in thy name would’st just seem weird.

Not that I have done any of those things.

I know thou hast rejected my petitions many times before, but I implore thee, consider mine recent rise to power and prestige in the City Counsel, and if ANY portion of thine heart doth yearn to be one with mine, hang a yellow scarf from thy window as a token of thy love. Don’t worry. I’ve already placed the scarf in thy closet.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate”

Eternally your knight,

Sir Ryan of the Kingdom of Steven

P.S. That poetry couplet twas Shakespeare. Iambic pentameter. I am an intellectual.

I will not apologize for getting drunk and calling everyone in town “sucky.”

The Autumn Enjoyable Trot, as we all know, was a resounding success. The kids had fun, we adults got to socialize, and no one was accidentally shot by hunters like last year. So why muddy the whole experience by forcing me to give a public apology for getting drunk and calling everyone in the town “sucky”?

I mean, it could have been much worse. I could have called everyone in the town terrorists, or communists, or racists, or feminists, or mexicans, or a bunch of other horrible thoughts that ran through my head at the time, so we should all be happy that I said what I said instead of those other things.

See? This is what I was going for.

I will also not apologize for dumping the bobbing for apples barrel on top of Mayor Chuck while chanting “We’re number 1! We’re number 1!” I did it in a celebratory spirit showing my pride in Byron City, and there was no malice behind my intentions.

I will also not apologize for hitting on Stephanie Banks-Dickson after mistaking her for my wife. The two look similar after a few drinks (no really, they do!), and had I simply grabbed my OWN wife’s buttcheeks while making honking noises, there would have been no need to call the police.

I will also not apologize for drooling on my wife’s expensive couch pillows. She should have thought of that before she made me sleep there. She should apologize to ME for also taking away the Xbox when I could have used it during my banishment from the bedroom.

I WILL apologize, however, to the other partners and associates at my law firm for the spanking my fantasy football team gave them all this past weekend. Looks like the $1000 pool is going to be all mine again this year. Booya!

Rashad Stevens