One of my favorite questions that I always answer with a another question is, “What year did you graduate high school?” My answer is always the same, “Which time?” To my knowledge, no one before me had ever graduated from Lake Central more than once. Furthermore, they’ve since taken precautions to ensure that no one else will ever duplicate the feat. It was perhaps one of my finest teenage pranks.
Found here is a narrative of the whole graduation ordeal that I had written back in 2003 for display on my first website. Continue reading
Being resourceful often requires one to think “outside the box.” However, it has been my experience that sometimes being resourceful actually requires one to be acutely aware of the box. Not to just think outside the box but to think about the box itself.
Never was this more evident than the time I decided to replace the rear differential gasket on my old ’72 Pontiac LeMans.
The rear differential was leaking gear oil. (The car was around 20 years old at that point, so it was to be expected.) I decided to remedy the situation by replacing the differential cover gasket. I ran out to Dyer Auto Parts (which doesn’t exist anymore) and asked for a 10 bolt differential cover gasket for a ’72 LeMans. I hadn’t yet lost my faith in the abilities of others, so I accepted what he gave me without really scrutinizing it. Continue reading
The following is an exact transcription of my efforts to waste the time of a Nigerian 419 scammer
For more info on 419 scams and how to screw with them, do stop by 419eater.com.
I receive these things all the time, and just shitcan them as quickly as I get them. One day, I decided that I’d see what happened if I wrote back. I started off with a very simple and lame response. What happened after that was a riot! I actually kept this guy going, while I conversed with him through three different email accounts. He was under the impression that he was dealing with 3 seperate people, and even started a torrid love affair with one of them!
I never expected this dipshit to go along with me for 3 months! He must have been really desperate to go to the great lengths that he did. Nonetheless, he was a quite amusing part of my day for the three months in question. I kinda miss typing to my African friend Chika!
Everything has been left in tact, including grammatical errors and whatnot. This guy’s english seemed to get worse as he grew more impatient. The only thing that I have censored out of the original emails was my personal cell phone number. I did, in fact, give him my cell number. I believe he tried to call it twice one day, but declined to leave a message.
- October 15th, 2005 – Jenn and I were married.
- October 16th, 2005 – We landed in Riviera Maya, Mexico ready to soak up the sun for 5 days at an all-inclusive resort.
- October 17th, 2005 – I turn 29 years old. There was much tequila involved. I don’t remember much.
- October 20th, 2005 – Hurricane Wilma makes landfall on the Yucatan Peninsula, and extends my stay in Mexico.
The following is the journal that I kept on my PDA while Jenn and I (and about 1500 other people) were hunkered down in a storm shelter waiting for Hurricane Wilma to pass us by. For years I thought this information had been lost. Only recently did I discover an old backup file from my PDA that I had created before it’s demise.