Babysitting the Niece

Earlier this week, a poor young girl of 4 was kidnapped out of her home, tortured, and raped. The poor thing survived, but they still haven't found the guy who did it. A man had spotted her sitting at the corner of Linden Ave underneath a street lamp at 4:00 in the morning.



Hearing about this made me glad I don't have kids. I don't know how I would react if something like that happened to my own child.



I do have my share of experiences with kids. My younger sister had a kid when she was 16. She had a daughter named Kristen. Kristen is now 7 years old and a bit of a handful.



The father ran out as soon as he heard my sis was pregnant, the bastard was 23 years old, so I have helped my sister out a lot when it comes to raising Kristen.



It's my weekend off from work, and my sister had been wanting to spend a weekend away with her new boyfriend. I agreed to watch Kristen.



Now, I had decided I was going to devote this weekend to watching some episodes of Lost, getting ready for the series finale on the 23rd. I told Kristen this was very importnant to me, so I let her play my computer.



I had put the parental locks in place and showed her how to watch her cartoons on the tv. I also showed her some games she could play. There was no reason for her to get bored.



A couple hours in, she comes out to my tv room and says, "Uncle Richie, I'm bored".



I said, "Kristy, there is plenty for you to do on the computer."



She said, " I don't like watching cartoons on the small screen, I want to watch them on the big TV."



I said, "Vut your Uncle Richie is watching Lost on the big TV."



That's when Kristen said something I could only imagine she learned from her whore of a mother.



She said, "Lost is stupid."



I stopped my show, got up and made her get her shoes on.



She asked why.



I said, "We are going for a ride."



We get in my Jeep and I drive to Linden Ave.



I asked her, "Do you know about that little girl that got hurt this week?"



She said, "Yes, my mommy was talking about her. She said a bad man hurt her. She said I had to be careful."



I asked, "Do you know what the bad man did to her?"



She sad, "He hurt her girl parts."



I asked, "Do you know where we are?"



She said no.



I said, "This is where the bad man hurt her."



I said, "That's right. So, Kristy, if you ever interrupt my show again and call it stupid again. I will drive you out here in the middle of the night, and leave the bad man to find you."



She'll never call Lost stupid again.

Old People Shopping.

This morning, I decided to go to Wal-Mart to pick up a classic controller for my Nintendo Wii.



When I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted an empty space next to the handicap spaces. Nice and close to the building.



I made my way towards it, and sure enough, another car managed to take it before I did.



I found a spot all the way in the back and walked up to the store. That's when I saw the car that took my spot.



It had handicap tags. And there were plenty of handicap spaces open.



The driver was this old woman, who was still getting out of the car.



When she finally got out, I spoke to her.



"Excuse me mam, but there are plenty of handicap spots available, why don't you use one of them? I kinda wanted that spot"



She looked at me, the way old people do when they are trying to remember who you are or what they were doing a minute ago, then she answered.



"I thought this was a handicap spot. My mind isn't what it once was. It's close enough"



Like a turtle that had been sedated, she slowly made her way inside.



Needless to say, I was furious. It is my strong belief that old people should not be allowed to drive. And the fact that she completely blew off the fact that she stole my spot was even more frustrating.



I went inside and grabbed a controller. I went to go pay for it, but I spotted the old woman again.



Just seeing her, going about her shopping as though she did no wrong to anybody, got me fuming even more.



She had to pay. I looked at the controller in my hand and back at the old hag. I knew what I had to do.



I walked over to her, grabbed some random item off the shelf, and tapped her on the shoulder.



She turned around and looked at me. No recognition on her face whatsoever.



I held up the item I grabbed and said, "Excuse me mam, you dropped."



As she stared at it, trying to decide of she had dropped it or not, I tossed the controller into her cart. She was completely unaware.



She took the item from me, threw it in her cart, and thanked me.



I was able to hold in my laughter.



I followed her. She took about 45 minutes to shop, then she finally made her way to the cash register.



I got behind, and helped her unload her cart. She thanked me and said it was nice to meet such a nice young man.



I wanted to say, "And it's nice to meet such an old thoughtless hag", but I just grinned and nodded.



She paid for all of her items, and mine, got her bags into her cart and made her way out to the car.



I stood at the entrance and watched her load he bags into car, then I approached her once again.



"Excuse me mam, the cashier accidently put something of mine into one of your bags."



She said, "Oh my" and invited me to look through her bags.



I fished out my controller and said thank you.



Sure, she's never going to know what happened, but I made her pay. And that's all that matters.

My cat had a litter of kittens.

A couple of months ago, my calico, Patches, had a litter of 6 kittens. The most adorable kittens you could ever see.



Unfortunately, I could not take care of them, so I decided to give them away.



I put a sign out in front my house yesterday saying "Free Kittens".



Today, my next door neighbor, Glenn and his 6 year old son Kyle, came knocking on my door.



Glenn told me he wanted a kitten. Howard owes me 20 dollars. You see, I'm not the type who lends money to people, but since he's my neighbor and I know where he lives, I figured it wouldn't hurt.



I said, "I'd love to give you a kitten Glenn, but you still owe me 20 bucks."



Glenn said, "I know, and I'm going to pay you back as soon as I get my next check."



I said, "If you can't afford to pay me back, how are you going to afford taking care of the kitten?"



He said, "Listen, I had to borrow that money because I was in a pinch, but I'm back on track now."



I nodded. What he didn't know, is that I knew exactly what the 20 bucks was for. Kyle has a 16 year old babysitter, whom I happen to work with. She informed me that Glenn came home early one night and decided to have a little fun with her after Kyle went to bed. She demanded an extra 20 bucks that night, or else she'd tell Glenn's wife.



And since Glenn's wife watches their money like a hawk, he came to me to get the 20 bucks.



So, I knew for a fact that his money wasn't tight...the babysitter was. But still, it ticked me off that he still hadn't paid me back.



Now, I was at a bit of a conundrum: Confront him with the fact that I knew the truth and get my 20 bucks, or just let him have the kitten, wait for my 20 bucks, and just use the info to blackmail him later.



I knew his adventures with babysitter were too good to waste on a mere 20 bucks, but I still had to make him suffer for not paying me back promptly.



I looked at Kyle. He was playing with one of the kittens.



I asked him, "You like that one?"



He said yes.



I got down on the floor and picked the kitten up and asked him, "Is this the one you want to take home?"



He nodded and a bright smile came on his face.



I looked up and Glenn, and winked at him, while I grinned like a shark.



I looked back at Kyle and said, "This is what happens when your daddy can't pay people back on time."



I took the kittens head in my hand and gave it a twist.



Now, I want you to know, I didn't like doing that. I love animals. I love cats, but revenge sometimes makes a person do things they don't like to do.



I threw the dead kitten back at Kyle and said, "There you go, he's all yours. Taking care of him won't cost you a thing."

Ran into an Ex-Girlfriend's new boyfriend.

I went to Wal-Mart last night, to pick up the Wolverine movie. No, I'm not proud of it.



Anyways, while I'm looking at the Blu-Rays, this guy walks up to look over them as well. I look at him from the corner of my eye, and something about him seems familiar.



Then it hits me.





You see, earlier last year, I dated this chick named Allison. We went out for a few months, but she dumped me because she didn't believe I was the kind of guy who could always be there emotional for me. She was right, but let me tell you this folks, she was excellent in bed.



And I do mean excellent, she was worth to fake being there for her emotionally.



So, after we split, I kept tabs on her, and by this, I mean I stalked her MySpace page. She keeps it private, but thankfully, I'm still her friend on there. Every time she would mention a new boyfriend, I would get extremely jealous.



But these dates only seemed to last a couple of weeks, so I continued to hang on, until she realized she made the mistake of dumping me.



But...back in March, she met this douchbag named Taylor.



She and Taylor hit it off. As their relationship progressed, I began checking out his profile as well. Know thy enemy.



Back in July, I saw the worst news I could have ever seen.



Taylor got her pregnant. Now, Allison was as good as dead to me.



And it just so happened, that Taylor was standing next to me at Wal-Mart last night in front of the Blu-Ray rack.



Once it dawned on me that this was him, the gears in my head started to turn. I had to get revenge for what he did to me.



I stood there, completely still, then cocked my head to left, as though I were listening to somebody.



He gave me a curious glance. After a few seconds, I began to speak.



Me: T-T-T- Ta..Tay...Taylor?



He took a step backed and looked me over.



Taylor: Do I know you?



Me: No. We've never met.



Taylor: Then why'd you say my name?



Me: So, that is your name! Fantastic!



Taylor: What the hell is this?



Me: Don't be alarmed. I have a certain connection to the spirit world. One of my contacts was whispering your name. Now they are telling me your birth date. November 16th, 1983?



Taylor: Did somebody put you up to this?



Me: Not at all dude, I'm telling you the truth, I swear on my mother's life. Ask me a question and see if they can tell me.



Taylor: Ok, my father died when I was two. What was his name.



I cocked my head again, pretending to be listening, but I was really trying to remember back to his MySpace page. There was a pic of him as a baby sitting in the lap of a 30 something man. The caption read "In loving Memory of James Prescott"



Me: Jimmy?



Taylor: Yeah, that's right.



Me: Hold on, they are telling me something else.



I "listened" again, then a big smile came over my face.



Me: Your girlfriend is having a baby!



An even bigger smile grew on his face.



Taylor: That's right!



I shook his hand.



Me: That's great man. I think it's cool...wait.



I "listened" once again. Although this time, the smile on face disappeared, only to be replaced with a concerned look.



He looked at me, concerned as well.



Taylor: What is it?



Me: Nothing. Congrats again, I'll let you get back to your shopping.



I began to walk away, but he followed.



Taylor: What did you hear man?



My mind went back to her profile and to the time we were together. There was this guy named Dusty that she had been friends with most of her life. It was strictly platonic, but those two were closer than anybody.



Me: Do you really want to know?



Taylor: Yes! What are they saying.



Me: They keep mentioning a Dusty. I keep hearing Allison, Dusty, and baby all at the same time.



I looked at him, doing my greatest not to laugh as the color drained from his face. He stood there for a minute, out the Blu-ray back, and said he had to leave.



This morning, I looked at her profile, there was a new comment, from him.



Taylor: All this time, I knew there was something going on between you and that shithead Dusty. You think the two of you can go behind my back and fuck around. FINE! I hope he can be a good father to HIS baby! Thats right, I know all about it. I had to hear it from a stranger last night. He tried to tell me it was some goddamn ghosts telling him, but I know your fuckin little games. You ad I are through!



Sure enough, he had removed himself from her friends list and now made his profile private.



Sometimes, I really amaze myself.

My Latest Idea.

Superbowl parties have become a traditional pastime in many American households. People love getting together, watching the big game on their HD Big Screen TVs.

I think it's time to bring a new tradition to American Families.

9/11 Parties.

That's right. People getting together, setting up a bunch of snacks and meals, cracking open some cold ones, and sitting down to watch a rebroadcast of the 9/11 attacks.

Only, a little more enhanced this time. For instance, we will reformat all 9/11 footage in beautiful 1080i HD. That means you'll be able to see the terrorists waving from the plane right before it crashes into the tower.

We will also bring John Madden out of retirement to call play-by-play on the footage.

"The terrorists have made a bold move here, they have intercepted the plane and they are going for it! Where is our defense at? The terrorists are going all the way! They are at the 40, the 30, oh, TOUCHDOWN! Oh, that's got to hurt! Let's watch the instant replay! There they are, they look like they just might miss, but they pull off a fantastic maneuver at the last second and nailed that goal!"

"Oh. what's this? Looks like we've got some jumpers here. Now, we are seeing some pretty amateur moves here. Brett Farve would have dived out with a bot more grace.



"Number 93 is on its way to the goal! OH! Interference, Number 93 has been taken down! It's all over for 93!"



Of course, as with the Superbowl, there is much advertising dollars to be made. We could have commercials like this:

We see a Domino's Pizza delivery car racing down the road. He arrives at his destination, the South Tower of the World Trade Center...after it has collapsed. He looks back and forth between the pizza and the rubble, shrugs his shoulders, and starts eating the pizza.

Pizza Hut could come up with this: "On 9/11, terrorists delivered two large planes to New York. We won't be as stingy, get two large pizzas with all the toppings for $19.99"

Dr. Pepper: "It goes down a lot smoother than those towers did."

The only problem with rewatching 9/11 footage is, you already know what's going down.

Overheard a conversation

Just got back from lunch. I was eating at a local diner, the Boardwalk Cafe. Had my usual BLT with home fries, Very good if you ever happen to stop by there,



I sat at my usual spot, a privacy booth which is cornered in a little section that you can only see the person eating there if you walk by the table.



Today was quiet, they had the local radio station playing on the speakers at a low volume. There was only 5 other people there when I got my food. As I ate, I heard the door open and somebody sat down at a booth near mine.



I took a casual glance over the little wall to watch the cute waitress walk up to take the person's order. I saw the person, he was looking down at the menu, young kid, probably about 16.



The waitress asked him if he was ready and the young man asked her if anybody had called for him. He said his name was Jerry and he was meeting someone here.



The waitress said she'd go check. A couple of minutes later, she came back and told him they had not gotten any calls.



Jerry said thanks. The waitress asked Jerry what the person looked like, because maybe he had already came in. Jerry said he didn't know, then he told her why.



Jerry, as it turns out, was adopted. He never knew his biological parents. He told the waitress that when he turned 16 earlier this year, he had decided he wanted to track them down. Through some investigation, he was able to get ahold of his biological father's contact information. Found out the man's name was Clark and he was a 33 year old Insurance salesman that still lived in town.



He contacted Clark through email and agreed to meet here for the first time.



A few minutes went by, I finished my BLT and fries and prepped myself. I'm 30 years old and could easily pass for a 33 year old. I did the math in my head, the real father would have been 17 when he was born. I thought back to what the kid looked like...he had brown hair, I think I could see he had brown eyes...all the same as me.



I decided right then and there...this kid was looking to meet his father, and I didn't want this poor young man to leave disappointed.



I stood up from my booth and walked around to his. He was looking out the window, waiting for his father.



I asked him, "Are you Jerry?"



He looked up at me, and I could see a certain sparkle in his eyes.



He said, "yes".



I held out my hand, he shook it, and I said, "Hi Jerry, I'm Clark...your father".



I sat down across from him. I could tell his mind was at work, that he had imagined this scene played out in his head a dozen of times, had a bunch of questions he wanted to ask, I knew there was going to be one question he was definitely going to ask, but I figured he would want to break the ice first.

Instead..he came right out and asked that question first.



"Why did you not want me?"



I took a deep breath, I knew exactly what this kid wanted to hear.



I said, "Listen, I was 17 when you were born. Only a year older than you are now. Are you ready to have a kid? I couldn't do it and neither could your mother. When we found out she was pregnant, we only had two options available to us, and you should thank your lucky stars."



I could tell Jerry knew that was going to be the answer, but my last little bit there seemed to perplex him, he said, "Why am I lucky, because I got into a good home? You're right, I did. I love my parents, they have given me everything I could ever want and treated me right".



I said, "Yeah, that's great son, but that's not why you are lucky. See, the only two options available to us were abortion or adoption. I mean, I didn't care either way, but your mom could never make up her mind. Finally, I said 'let's just flip a coin. Head, we abort the bastard, tails, we give him to somebody else.' Well, lucky for you, it came up tails."



He looked at me with a stunned face. I'll tell you, it was hard as hell not to break out laughing, but I had to keep on.



I said, "Hey, that's all in the past. It all worked out best for everyone, well, except for your mother." This time, I did let out a small laugh.



Jerry asked, "What about my mother? Does she still live here."



I said, "Nope. You see, when she was pregnant with you, I had to help her with here homework when she took her leave from school. She was only 15, you know. In her last couple of week during the prenancy, she couldn't do any of her homework at all. Practically demand that help her with it after she plopped you out. Of course, the minute you were born, she fell in love with you, but you were taken away right then and there. She was depressed when she got home. A week later, she overdosed on sleeping pills. Saved me from having to do her homework, so I guess I owe you a thanks."



Jerry was speechless. The waitress came over and handed me my bill for the BLT and fries.



I passed the bill over to Jerry and said, "Hey son, do your old man and a favor and take care of this. I got to head out."



I patted him on the head and walked out.

I Got Fired From Another Job

If you've seen the movie, "Waiting...", you'll know that they have a special game to relieve some of the stress of working at a restaurant.

Now, at the fast food place I worked, I decided to come up with a game, albeit not one as vulgar as the one in that movie.

The game was called "Pearl Harbor". It involved throwing a crumpled up piece of paper towel(bombs) at somebody while yelling "Pearl Harbor". The rules were this:

1: The attacker must yell out "Pearl Harbor" then throw the bomb. If the bomb makes a direct hit on the target, the attacker scores a point. If, they miss the target, then the target is awarded the point.

2: If hit, the target then has a chance to retaliate. He must position himself near the attacker, scream out "Hiroshima!" and punch that person in the arm. If they are to make a direct hit, they are awarded 2 points. However, if they miss, then their target is awarded 1 point.

At the end of the night, the points are tallied up and a winner is declared.

Now, since I came up with the game, the nights I worked, I was always declared the winner. it became something of a goal among my co-workers to bring me down.

Last night, it started out as a typical night.

Unfortuneatley, that soon changed.

There is one particular co-worker, her name is Erica, that I was really attracted to. Very hot, smart, funny, and loved Stephen King.

There was only two problems from me getting her...she preferred Mexican men and had gotten pregnant by one. She was 3 months into it.

I don't have any real problems with the Mexicans that move to my town, except when they get our local women pregnant. We were here first, so we should get first dibs on our women. I should have got first dibs on Erica.

At one point during the night, I see her walking towards me. She flashed her eyes and smiled at me, and then called out my name in a sweet voice.

I should have known better.

I looked up, staring into those beautiful eyes of her, getting so lost in them, that I hardly heard her say it when she screamed it out.

"Pearl Harbor".

The paper towel hit my square in the face.

The next thing i know, she screaming out "I got him! I finally got him!"

She ran around the store, getting high fives from our co-workers.

I was pissed. Extremely pissed. But, I held my composure.

For the next couple of hours, I was the focal point of mockery, but again...I showed no signs of my anger. But, I knew I had to get my revenge.

After the supper rush was over, we all took a few minutes to wind down. We all went to the back and stood around.

I stood next to Erica.

She said, "You are not planning to Hiroshima me, are you?"
I said, "No. But that was a good shot."

A couple of moments went by.

I made my move.

I screamed out, "ROE VERSUS WADE!" and punched in her in the stomach.

As she bent over in pain, I looked at my shocked co-workers and said, "That's how it's done, bitches."

I walked away. The manager followed me.

He asked, "What the hell was that?"

I said, "She Pearl Harbored me. I just retaliated. That should be worth 3 points."

He yelled out, "But you punched her in the stomach!"

I said, "Yeah, it's my game. I'll amend the rules as I see fit."

He shook his head and said, "She's pregnant."

I said, "I know, that's why I said Roe versus Wade."

Well, I got fired for that....it was worth it.