I found my kidney on the kitchen counter. There was also a note. “Jen, I don’t want your fucking kidney,” it read. It was from Lindsey, my on-and-off-again girlfriend who swore far too much.
I immediately picked up the phone and called her. “Take my damn kidney, you stupid moron,” I said. “You need it.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t need it. I don’t want anything from you,” she said.
Continue reading “Kidney Donor”
I was sitting at a light with my daughter Megan. Some guy was off to the left yelling at people. He looked about sixty and had short gray hair and silver frame glasses. He looked like a high school teacher.
I couldn’t understand him, so I rolled down the window.
Continue reading “Crazy Red Arrow Guy”
One day, Ian noticed a severed foot in his mailbox. The foot was sitting on his mail. It was sitting on his Chase credit card bill and his Dollar Saver ad. He wasn’t sure what to do with the foot or whom to tell. Because Ian didn’t know what to do, he panicked and carried the foot back to his apartment.
Several people noticed the creepy guy in apartment F-2017 carrying a foot around the parking lot. A woman who lived two doors down from Ian saw him. She had been getting into her car. She wrote the date and time and, “Guy from apartment F-2017 with foot,” in the notebook she carried around in her purse.
Continue reading “Body Parts in the Mail”
Mr. Vandermast stood in front of his fourth period health class. “OK, boys, we now would like to welcome Dr. Chapwick from the university to talk to you about masturbation.” The boys in the class began giggling. “Boys, please.” He held up his hands. “Dr. Chapwick is a world-renowned psychotherapist who has studied human sexuality for over forty years.” He shook Dr. Chapwick’s hand. “Welcome, Dr. Chapwick.”
Continue reading “Before the Boys of Mr. Vandermast’s Fourth Period Health Class at Robert J. Dole Senior High School: Dr. Chapwick’s Last Talk”
Back to work. My vacation is over, and, crap, I’m back at work. I stop in the kitchen at work to get some coffee. That’s the only thing that keeps me awake at this boring-as-hell job. My job uses something like one brain cell. It is so beneath me. At my job, I’m like a car with only one cylinder firing. Or something like that, whatever.
“Welcome back. How was the coast? That’s where you went, the coast?” Rick says. He’s this guy I work with. He’s OK, not too annoying. He’s reading the paper and drinking coffee.
Continue reading “Mustache”
My wife Jordan is goofing around at home when she decides to paint my fingernails, which probably seems pretty strange. I say OK because I’m not doing much besides watching Entertainment Tonight. So there she goes and paints my nails.
Continue reading “Walgreens”
We’re thinking about swimming. We’re all standing around the pool looking at each other. It’s a game of wills: Which employees will crack first and actually expose their sorry-ass bodies to us, their supportive coworkers? Probably Jim in sales will be first. Then that receptionist who comes in on Thursdays.
Continue reading “Please No Swimming during Corporate Swim Fun ’10”
Bill sat at his desk and renamed files on the company server. He had to rename five hundred thousand files in various directories and was almost done.
Bill’s boss, John, entered Bill’s cubicle. “We’re downsizing, Bill. So this is your last day,” he said.
Continue reading “Downsizing”
It was Tuesday, January 29, 2008. I was on American Airlines 2361. The plane sat on the tarmac at O’Hare International. The temperature outside hovered around six degrees Fahrenheit. The sky was overcast with a ceiling of 5,000 feet. The flight was delayed by two hours because of snow, blowing snow, and freezing fog. Visibility was one-half mile.
Continue reading “Cookies”