Sometimes I think my life is boring, but then I remember…
…that my grandmother’s tombstone does not have a date of death. It just says [Grandmother’s name] 1917-
That’s it. Like she’s a zombie or something. Whenever I go to visit it creeps me out. Everytime I go I expect to see the year of death. 2007. Nope, still not there.
Is it some kind of family conspiracy? Some type of insurance fraud?
Jan Brady didn’t have enough money to pay for all of the letters inscribed on her parent’s Anniversary platter. Was that the problem? Not enough family money left over to inscribe the final 4 numbers?
She died (allegedly) on the same day as Anna Nicole Smith. Did the tombstone maker rush to see the news reports of Anna’s death and forget about finishing the inscription. IDK. All I know is that it’s both weird and creepy and depressing.
One day I am going to take a magic marker or a can of spraypaint or something and fix it. There. No more zombie grandma.
…that I had lunch with Greg Brady. Leave it to me to win a Brady Bunch trivia contest with the prize being lunch with Barry Williams. All of my friends were like, “Dude, you’re such a dork”. Maybe so.
The lunch date took place at the House of Blues in Las Vegas. Barry was performing at the Flamingo for a week of so.
I wore dress pants and the world’s ugliest gray, white and black striped shirt. Horizontal stripes. You know, to make me look fatter. Because I was clueless.
I ordered a burger and fries. He ordered a salad.
He gave me a copy or his Growing Up Brady book and autographed it.
Have a sunshine day
What happened? Why is there a part of a McDonald’s golden arch in our yard?
My sister: There was a tornado last night. Didn’t you hear the sirens?
My sister: Didn’t you hear the wind or the hail or the rain?
My sister: Damn dude.
Me: Why didn’t you come and get me?
My sister: I was crouched down in my bathtub.
Every man for himself.