August 28, 12:44 PM
Boy do I have a story to tell. You know how I was keeping track of
Michael’s safe combo? Well it finally came in handy. I was trolling
around the office last night after hours and heard some noise coming
from the boss’s room. Normally the office is real quiet at night, which
is why I stick around in the first place. Quiet is like a drug to me and
if I don’t get my fix every night, I start to get the shakes.
So anyway, I heard these noises and got freaked out that the bossman was
using his office for a little nighttime nooky with that new chick that
sits in Tony’s seat every day. Not wanting to get caught, I dropped down
and started to army crawl over to investigate (I got a Private
Investigator license so I’m allowed to investigate anything I want,
suckers). As luck would have it, there wasn’t anybody in there. Turns
out that the noise was coming from inside Michael’s big furniture
cabinet thing. So I opened the cabinet door, half expecting a cat to
jump out at me. Usually when I open cabinets or closets or anything,
cats end up pouncing on me. For some reason, cats find me very
Nothing jumped out at me, but I could hear the rustling pretty close to
the ground, so I bent over and figured out that it was coming from the
safe. For a second, I just stared at it, wondering what could be inside.
Then I realized that I had been saving up Michael’s safe combo for this
very occasion. Well, this occasion and whenever I needed some cash, but
that’s beside the point.
I went over to my computer and looked back at my previous entries of
this thing. Apparently I wasn’t too good with my record keeping because
the numbers were kind of off. I ended up trying out every combo I wrote
down and you know what? I didn’t get it right until the very last one I
tried. The good news is, I got it open and you’ll never guess what was
No, it wasn’t a cat, smart ass. It was a squirrel! I don’t know for the
life of me why that guy had a squirrel in his safe, but I do know that I
got me a new pet. And I’m going to train it. Right now I’m calling it
Butthead, but I’m open to suggestions for new names if you got any. In
just a few months, I’m going to have the best trained squirrel in
Pennsylvania. I’m also going to blackmail Michael because I’m pretty
sure it’s against the law to lock a squirrel in a safe. False
imprisonment or something.
Everything’s coming up Creed!
August 21, 09:39 AM
I want to say I was about four years old when I fell in love with music.
My memory’s not great, so it could have been anywhere between four and
fourteen, but I think it was closer to four. I was hanging out in an old
abandoned car factory in South Carolina and I came across a bunch of old
bumpers lying on the ground. At that age, I used to walk around with a
bunch of sticks in my back pocket in case I ever needed something to
throw. When I saw those bumpers, I don’t know what came over me, but I
knew that I had to take out a pair of sticks and start banging away.
From the instant my sticks hit that metal, I was hooked. I pounded out
beat after beat, dancing and singing along. I loved it. The music jumped
into my body like a venereal disease from a hooker. I stayed in that
factory for hours and hours just banging away. The next day, I came back
and started right up where I left off. I made up songs about everything:
jump ropes, corn, beaver skin hats. Nothing was off limits.
About a week later, I saw an old man playing a beat-up guitar on the
street. I watched him for a while, trying to learn what he was doing as
I stood there. After about an hour, he said he had to go to the can and
asked me to watch his instrument. I gladly agreed. When he left to go to
the bathroom, I snatched the guitar and ran all the way to the factory.
It was the first thing I had ever stolen and on that day, I said to
myself “Music and thieving are going to be the biggest things in your
life” and you know what? They still are.
Music has been a part of me ever since. Not a day goes by where I don’t
tap out a rhythm or pick up my axe and play a lick or two. If you cut
open my veins, I’m fairly certain that quarter notes would come tumbling
out. I can’t imagine my life without music and I don’t want to.
August 14, 09:23 AM
I spend a lot of time in the library. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not there
for the books. Books are for table balancing and throwing at birds. I go
for the air conditioning and the smell. Libraries smell good. It almost
makes me want to like books, but not quite. Anyway, there’re a lot of
kids at the library – maybe it’s summer school or something – and these
kids talk like I’ve never heard before. It’s like a secret street
language and I want in. They say stuff like “that dude got clowned” and
“he got that swag when he walks.” I want to know what the hell these
kids are talking about, but they won’t tell me. I’ve tried going up to
the kids to talk about the phrases, but they get kind of freaked out by
me. Just wait until they need an ID – then we’ll see who’s running away
and telling the librarians.
Anyway, those jerks won’t tell me anything, so I’m making up my own
words and phrases. This is my street dictionary and I’m not even
charging for it. Just don’t tell the kids in the library, okay?
Keep it bowlin’ – Everyone likes bowling, so this is a phrase for
when you want to tell someone to stay positive. For example, if someone
tells you they lost their job, you can just tell them to keep it bowlin’
and that’ll cheer them up.
Ploppers – This means bad. “Did you see that movie last night? It
Horribly obese – I’m taking this one from the library kids. They say
things are fat all the time, so I took it a step further. In this case,
it means the most beautiful ever. If a foxy dame comes walking in, you
can call her horribly obese. I think it might take some time before it
catches on, so use this one with caution because some broads may not
have heard it yet and could take it the wrong way.
Willy fingers – Perhaps the hardest to explain, but you get willy
fingers when you really want to fight someone. “When my boss was yelling
at me, I really started getting willy fingers.” Your fingers start
moving real fast and itching because they want to hit something – that’s
the willy fingers.
Those kids are going to regret not letting me in on their lingo. My
slang’s going to take over the nation and there’s nothing those idiots
can do to stop it. Keep it bowlin’, people.
August 07, 09:33 AM
We’re having a party at work tomorrow to celebrate “08/08/08 Day,” which
is great because I’ll be able to eat enough that I won’t have to buy
food for a week. That’s my favorite part about work parties – they end
up saving me a lot of moolah in the long run. I wish they were more fun,
though. If I was in charge, we’d be rocking and rolling all night. My
parties would go down in history as the best work parties of all time.
Here’s a rundown of my perfect party:
We’d start out with a bang, and by that I mean I’d fire off a starter’s
pistol so people knew the party actually started. The very first event
of the party would be Bobbing for Creed Shots. I’d fill a large kiddie
pool with Creed Juice – a mixture of kool-aid, Pop Rocks, and grain
alcohol – and throw some shot glasses in there. Then everyone has to
lean in, grab a shot glass with their mouths, and take the shot. It’s
messy but it sure gets things started right. If you’re not drunk after
Bobbing for Creed Shots, you’re not playing right.
So after everyone’s good and sauced up, I’d break out the piñatas. The
key to piñatas at parties is naming them. If you name them after
co-workers, you know people are going to really get into it. I’m not so
great with names, so I’d let somebody else do the naming, but trust me,
they would all be named. As for filling them, that all depends on the
budget. If there’s no dinero for the piñatas, then I’d fill them with
dry rice. If there’s a little cash around, then I’d go for hard candy.
With hard candy, you get the fun of seeing the piñata burst AND the
injuries that go with it.
After piñata time, we’d go straight into the eating contests. I’m
partial to deviled eggs for quantity, but I know hot dogs are pretty
popular these days, too. I’d compromise and make hot dog omelets for
everyone to scarf down. I’m pretty sure I know who’d win, but you never
can tell – sometimes the smallest accountants make the biggest eaters.
When the party winds down, I’d do another round of Bobbing for Creed
Shots and then send people on their way with Goody Bags. The bags would
just be filled with office supplies, but hey, everyone likes a parting
They should really make me head of that party committee thing. I’d be
July 31, 09:24 AM
Why is it so impressive to sleep on a bed of nails? There’s obviously a
trick to it that makes it not hurt. I think the real challenge is
sleeping in a bed filled with needles. You just know that’s not gonna
I’ve gone for rolls in the hay and it is nothing like sex.
Sometimes I’ll do shots of mouthwash. It gets me a little tipsy and
gives me great breath.
I think baseball should introduce a longstop position, just in case the
shortstop misses the ball.
Who decided that we needed both North and South Dakota. It seems like a
lot of wasted paperwork to me.
Catching flies with your hands is fun, but catching frogs with your feet
is a lot more satisfying.
I like to wear two undershirts most days because you never know when
you’ll walk into a strip poker game.
I want to open up a bar called “Creed’s Meads” and bring mead back to
how popular it was during the American Revolution. It’ll be right
between my book store and woodwind instrument shop – Creed’s Reads and
Why hasn’t anyone built a live-action version of Chutes and Ladders? I’d
be first in line to play.
I’ve always thought that shopping carts are just mobile jails for food
and all the prisoners are sentenced to death by ingestion. Kind of makes
you shop differently, huh?