Win $100! Just Stop at the Crosswalk!

     I wore the Abe Lincoln costume yesterday, so that's out.  Plus, the beard kept blowing off and the stupid drivers were laughing at me.  Laughing, but once again, not stopping for me, the Pedestrian.  The Dorothy dress and pigtails definitely garnered sidewalk reactions, but not the cars. The cars still blew through the crosswalk.  I might have to go with the bear.  Maybe they will fear for their lives or maybe, God forbid, a bear might ding their Tesla.  Fuckers.

     Tactically speaking, I can do better.  The footage isn't what I want it to be, so I am going to place another camera in the bush on the northeast corner.  With two cameras I can put together reaction shots from both the drivers and my character.  The bear is going to be good.  The bear might really get angry and chase after a car or something.  Bears are very erratic. 

     Okay, the bear costume fits nicely and I think I should be able to sprint while wearing it.  The problem is, it seems a little "soft".  Drivers need to be scared shitless that this thing is coming for them and their family and isn't going to stop until it eats their face. The costume isn't enough. I need some props.

     The Wilmette butcher is so great.  He's so nice.  So helpful.  He looked a little scared, so I took the bear head off when I asked him for a full lamb carcass. "With the head?" he asked.  Duh!  But, seriously nice guy.  And helpful.

     The cameras are in place and we are rolling.  

     Hello to everyone on Youtube!  Hello, new followers!  I got a few questions about yesterday's Abe show, and yes I am fine.  Sometimes I go to a very dark place and I am sorry you had to see that.  But, today is a new day!  

     For all of my new viewers: My plan is to wait for a car to approach the cross walk at 17th and Lake and to hand a $100 bill to the first car that stops for me.  It's been 43 days and not a single car has stopped.  The costumes started around day 17.  Last week, I tried to get a little girl to accompany me, but her mother is a fucking bitch and wouldn't let her precious little daughter stand a few feet into the crosswalk with me.  Bitch.  I hate you.  But, whatever, let's get going.

     As you can see, I am a bear.  What you CAN'T see, is that I have a mutilated lamb carcass hidden in that bush over there.  I am going to pretend to be struggling with the lamb in the bushes.  It needs to look like I am really mangling the thing and after more than just the kill.  The bear is psychotic and wants to feast on the soul of the lamb.  Eat it's very being.  So, please add a comment at the bottom of this video and let me know how I did.  Your feedback is very helpful.

     So once the car approaches, I am going to lurch out of the bushes and into the crosswalk holding the gutted animal over my head.  Obviously, in the hopes that a car finally stops.  So I can give one helpful driver his or her $100 bill.

     Give me a minute to get into character.

     Alright, here we go...

An Enlightening Chat with my Flight Attendant

     On a recent flight, I was lucky enough to be seated next to an empty seat – every traveler’s wet dream. So, of course I immediately asked my flight attendant, Harold Porridge, to plop down next to me for a chat. I like to learn about people! Harold’s a delightful man of about 50 years. He sports a blonde moustache and has a cherubic paunch that extends oh-so-gingerly over his belt line. We had a wonderful chat.

ME:      So Harold, how long have you been in the flight game?

HP:       Oh, gosh! Twelve years now.

ME:      Well, you don’t look a day over 13!

HP:       Hahahaha, that’s very cute. Cute AND funny.

ME:      Thank you, Harold. Ever do something on the job you completely regret?

HP:       I once urinated in a customer’s coffee. I’m not proud of that.

ME:      Only once, Harold?

HP:       OK --I urinated in his refill!

ME:      Well that makes sense. Keeps the flavor consistent. Tell me, do you like what you do?

HP:       Not particularly, no.

ME:      Well, that must make it quite taxing, then.

HP:       No, not especially.

ME:      Now you’re just being a dick, Harold.

(pause)

ME:      That’s it? You don’t want to talk anymore?

HP:       I think you could be a really good friend to me, but I would like to establish some ground rules.

ME:      Do they involve me not calling you a dick?

HP:       That is one rule I was drafting in my head, yes.

ME:      I’m not interested, but thank you for your time!

     I liked Harold almost as fast as I began to dislike him. When he left the seat next to me, I felt nothing. He kept glancing over at me throughout the rest of the flight but fuck him.

Woah my allergies are killing me!

It’s that time of the year again and no, I’m not talking about presidential debate time! But seriously, it’s allergy season and if you’re anything like me, you’re suffering. Big time. It seems like every day of late I wake up feeling like I’ve been dragged behind a truck. Puffy, watery eyes, itchy throat, and unrelenting swelling around the anus are just a few of the fun things we allergy suffers get to deal with. It’s just no fun. During allergy season, my eyes feel so heavy and sticky. And the explosive diarrhea really puts a crimp in my social schedule. Sure, I’ve tried over the counter medications, but nothing seems to soothe my itchy throat and searing hemorrhoids brought on by the spike in weed and pollen counts. And no matter how much sleep I get, I always feel tired. And as you fellow allergy sufferers know, the hallucinations are especially vivid during the seasonal change -- just last night I spent the evening discussing colonial trade embargoes with a very distinguished yak. I guess if there is a silver lining it’s that once the weather turns colder, I won’t have to deal with the sneezing, intestinal bloating and blood-vomiting. At least until spring!   

Man, Don’t Even Talk to Me About ATM Fees

     Man, don’t even talk to me about ATM fees! I mean, why the heck am I paying money to get my own money! Talk about some bullshit. Look, I know a guy’s gotta make a buck and it’s not like I built the damn ATM machine myself so yeah, I expect it’s gonna cost me something. But just the other day I got soaked with a big ass two-dollar fee! Somebody’s getting rich, and it’s not me, brother! It’s just another example of how big business is on the grift and guess who gets the shaft? You got it – the little guy.

     Just listen to this special brand of BS: the other day I visited a WELL KNOWN BIG BOX RETAILER in search of a pair of respectable chinos. When I finally settled on a pair that adequately housed my particulars and flattered the old rump, I asked the pathetic sales associate if I could get that crease “sharpened” a bit prior to purchase. This deplorable young woman nearly laughed while informing me that her store “doesn’t iron clothes.” Well guess what? Her store just lost a customer who pays in cash!

     I’m tired of getting the cold shoulder from Big Business Incorporated, LLC. If my tax dollars are going to continue to pay their salaries, I deserve a little respect. Why, just yesterday I stopped in a NATIONALLY FRANCHISED MEXICAN-INSPIRED FAST FOOD ESTABLISHMENT and was told I couldn’t take 9-12 hot sauce packets without first placing an order. What is this – China???? The last time I checked, this is a free country so technically those hot sauce packets already belong to me, assholes.

     Pull it together, America!