Giving Thanks

Things I'm thankful for:

>> the record amount of porn on my computer!

>> I don't have smallpox.

>> Not having to spend Christmas in West Virginia (or as they call it "Time 'a year when maw makes the rhubarb grits and paw makes the moonshine eggnog")

>> Not having five speeding tickets yet.

>> New Aqua Teen Hunger Force!!

>> Not having back hair.

>> Students who are good enough at cheating that I don't catch them (the paperwork's a bitch).

>> Mocha freezes - the best drink since I found the Parrot Bay Passion Fruit Rum one weekend last year.

>> Four-Cheese-flavored Cheez It Crisps.

>> Wet naps after a good meal of buffalo chicken wings.

>> Being tall enough to look at most cleavage without getting caught.

>> Diet Pepsi

>> Banana-flavored runts

>> The power to cancel classes whenever I damn well please

>> Women with low standards and questionable morals

>> My medical insurance - When I lose 8 of my fingers in an accident, I can rest assured that the WVU health system will reattach 5 of them.

>> Friends who make me look better by comparison

Special Deliverance, Part 1

Living in West Virginia, I knew it was only a matter of time before I had an "experience" - something to drive home that hillbilly feeling. It all happened two days ago.

Prologue: I purchased cable from Adelphia three months ago, and as part of the deal, they gave me free digital cable for three months. So as any simpleton could figure out (sorry Fryar), the time recently came for me to return my digital cable box. I called the Adelphia corporate office, and the woman told me that the Morgantown office was on "15 Summer School Road." (Pay attention to that address. There's a quiz later.)

The Journey: So I Mapquest the address. It's about 20 miles south of Morgantown, but I wasn't doing anything important, so my journey began. I get off of I-79, and I'm immediately wary because I see a sign for "Hay Bale Road." This is slightly disconcerting, but I press on. After all, I'm in West Virginia. What can I expect?

Onward. I turn onto the next road, and there are farms everywhere. There are farms to the left, farms to the right, farms that are farming farms. That smell of hay and manure that years of growing up in Kittanning has made me sensitive to begins to waft into my car. I get to the next road that leads me up a small mountain.


So I get to the top of the mountain, and it feels like I've landed on another planet. I have a pretty good perch on top of this hill/mountain, and all I can see is trees; no civilization to be found. I could die on this road, and nothing but a wild moose would ever find me.

Believe it or not, I am actually still feeling optimistic at this point. Then I find my road: Summer School Road. The sign is a piece of wood with the letters painted on by hand. The "road" (and I use the term loosely) consists of gravel and leaves. Since I've come this far, I feel obliged to press on. The road, as you might imagine by now, does not lead me to Adelphia's Morgantown office. Instead, I nearly run over a chicken.

Yes friends; a chicken - right in the middle of the road.

I have inadvertently driven onto some yokel's property. It's not a farm - it's just a house with a chicken coup beside it. It's at this point that I sorta freak out. I decide that I've been lost in Appalachia long enough. I return home. Adelphia can shove their digital box straight up their ass.

Epilogue: So I get home and call Adelphia. I'm all ready to bitch them out; however, after 25 minutes of being on hold, I've calmed down somewhat. Well, the woman on the phone informs me that I had the road name wrong.

Remember that road name: Summer School Road? Yeah, that was wrong. Guess what it is.

Go ahead; guess.

Summers School Road

Turns out that Morgantown actually has both roads. This was a giant mental clusterfuck. I got lost in the Ozarks because some dipshit who names roads for a living got lazy and pulled the oldest Scrabble trick in the book by pluralizing the road names.

So that was my first "experience." I say "first" because I know it won't be my last. That's why this is called "Part 1."

Cat Scratch Fever

I've been thinking about getting a cat. I haven't thought this through in any legitimate way, but I live alone, and my glorious pad gets rather dull sometimes. Perhaps a feline friend would liven things up from time to time.

Now don't get me wrong; I'm a big fan of dogs, but I think a cat suits me better. A cat and I would have a lot more in common. Allow me to elaborate:

Cats and I both nap often throughout the day.

We both eat excessive amounts of food.

We're both easily entertained by a ball of fluff floating in the air.

We both do stupid shit (falling off the couch, running into glass doors, tracking litter out of the box, etc.) and then act like nothing happened.

We both glare at people from dark spaces.

We both hiss at assholes who come in the door.

We both enjoy a good belly rub and purr when comfortable.

We both have fur on our ass.

Another thing cats have going for them is that they are a lot more independent than dogs. You can dump a trough-load of food into a bucket and leave for a week. The cat doesn't give a shit. The instant you walk out the door, the cat says "Finally, the asshole's gone!" and then tokes up on catnip.

A cat at any age is good too. Kittens are great because they're so damn stupid. You can trick a kitten into attacking its reflection in a mirror or chasing its own tail. Seriously, they're not that bright. Old cats are just as much fun. They start to go blind and deaf, so they pretty much turn into the feline equivalent of a schizophrenic hobo. They jump five feet if you switch on the light without warning. They also get really set in their ways, so you can screw with them very easily. If the cat always jumps from the chair to the windowsill, move the chair six inches forward. That fucker may claw your eyes out, but it's worth the entertainment.

So I may get a cat. The only problem is having to deal with the furry fuck if I ever go home for an extended time. My neighbors already see me as a nuissance. They'd probably have my head for leaving a meowing cat in my apartment. Who am I kidding? I can barely keep myself alive here let alone trying to provide for another life form. Those things live for like 20 years too. That's a pretty big commitment. Most marriages don't last that long.

On the other hand, chicks really go for kittens...