You created the new show called Kitchen Switchers where people switch kitchens. So every morning after waking up in their own house they have to drive across town to the house with the kitchen they switched with if they want any coffee or breakfast. It’s a big hit since everyone likes watching people look through kitchen cabinets to find where stuff is.
Today you’re going to get a call that one of your former Kitchen Switchers has returned to the kitchen she switched with.
“Karen?” you’ll say as you enter the kitchen slowly. “What are you doing here? Show’s over.”
“I am where I belong,” Karen will say. “This is my kitchen.”
The mom of the house will whisper in your ear, “We just woke up and there she was. Eating an English Muffin. The last English Muffin I might add.”
“Karen,” say to her, your arms up to show no weapons. “Why don’t we take you back to your kitchen?”
“I said, THIS IS MY KITCHEN!” she screams.
“Okay,” you say. “This is your kitchen. All yours.”
“I always felt there was something off about my life. I love my husband. Love my kids. Love my job. But something made me feel like I wasn’t really me.”
She looks around the room, tears running down her cheeks.
“Then your show came along. And I saw this kitchen and I knew, this is it. This is the kitchen I was supposed to cook in. These fixtures. This model fridge. The way those high cabinets above the sink are organized. It was all so right.”
She seemed to stare at the adjustable faucet nozzle like it was a childhood memory.
“Then you took it away from me,” she says. “Show’s over. Back to your own kitchen.”
You hold still, afraid.
“THEN YOU TOOK IT AWAY FROM ME!!!” she screams as she drives a butter knife into your left temple.
Happy Kitchen Switchers Day!
Monday, October 26, 2015
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Bar Talk Day!
A bar is the perfect place to meet new people and have some interesting conversation! So, today, sidle up to the bar next to a stranger with a kind face and say, “Hey friend. Got a story to tell?”
His story will be about the night his son was born, when three masked men arrived at his cabin on horseback and absconded with the newborn, claiming he was the golden one, He who will bring order to the ancient warring tribes of M'al Anan'to. The man gave chase in the rain but a strange force drew him to the ground where he slept. When he woke in the morning, his baby was gone, only the hoofprints remained as evidence of the abduction. His wife never spoke again.
“Hilarious!” you’ll say. “You’re not gonna believe this but I was raised by three masked dudes on horseback! You must be my dad!”
He’ll agree that’s quite a hilarious coincidence. Then the two of you will catch up on how your lives have been. He’ll tell you your mom still doesn’t talk. You’ll tell him that those warring tribes weren’t really warring that much and they just needed an outside party to talk sense. You’ll want to keep talking but your long lost dad will have to leave to catch a movie, so you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon watching a sports talk show on mute on the bar’s flatscreen.
Happy Bar Talk Day!
His story will be about the night his son was born, when three masked men arrived at his cabin on horseback and absconded with the newborn, claiming he was the golden one, He who will bring order to the ancient warring tribes of M'al Anan'to. The man gave chase in the rain but a strange force drew him to the ground where he slept. When he woke in the morning, his baby was gone, only the hoofprints remained as evidence of the abduction. His wife never spoke again.
“Hilarious!” you’ll say. “You’re not gonna believe this but I was raised by three masked dudes on horseback! You must be my dad!”
He’ll agree that’s quite a hilarious coincidence. Then the two of you will catch up on how your lives have been. He’ll tell you your mom still doesn’t talk. You’ll tell him that those warring tribes weren’t really warring that much and they just needed an outside party to talk sense. You’ll want to keep talking but your long lost dad will have to leave to catch a movie, so you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon watching a sports talk show on mute on the bar’s flatscreen.
Happy Bar Talk Day!
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Watch The Kids You Didn’t Want Day!
Every year you like to check in on the kids of the guy you lived with for six years but you didn’t marry because he wanted kids and you didn’t want them with him.
“I thought my genes were a mess, and his genes are definitely no picnic,” you say to his six-year-old girl, Pam, when she runs over to talk to you at the playground. “But you seem fine.”
You study her face. You see him in it, and hints of someone else. Those hints could have pointed to you.
“Are you studying my face to imagine if your features were on it?” Pam asks.
You nod. “You’d look horrible with my eyebrows,” you tell her. “But I think you would have benefited from my cheekbones. Your mom doesn’t have very defined cheekbones, does she?”
Little Pam shakes her head no. “Pisses me off,” she says.
“You have his big skull,” you say, reaching out to adjust her hair. “They shouldn’t part your hair like that with a skull like his. I hated his haircuts.”
Pam smiles as you take a picture with your iPhone and show it to her. Her older brother Matt runs over and interrupts.
“Don’t talk to her, Pam,” he says. Then, to you, “Stop imagining us with your traits instead of our mom’s. You made your choice, lady.”
“Yes, I made my choice. And I’m happy with it,” you tell him.
“Yeah right. That why you stalk us at the playground once every autumn?” he asks. “Admit it! You wish we sprouted from your eggs, and you’re living your life in regret for giving our dad the kiss-off.”
“As if!” you shout at Matt. You march away from them, pissed. Matt can be such an asshole.
“I’d be so bummed if I was your mom, Matt!” you yell from the parking lot.
Pam looks sad.
“Not you Pam!” you shout. “You’re cool.”
Pam waves and says, “See you next year!” Then she and Matt run and make their nanny put down her phone and give them snacks.
Fuckin’ Matt. He always gets into your head. You’re doing fine. You only check in with them to be glad you don’t have to raise an assmunch like Matt. If only he knew that. Maybe you should write him a letter letting him know.
Pam’s cool though.
Happy Watch The Kids You Didn’t Want Day!
“I thought my genes were a mess, and his genes are definitely no picnic,” you say to his six-year-old girl, Pam, when she runs over to talk to you at the playground. “But you seem fine.”
You study her face. You see him in it, and hints of someone else. Those hints could have pointed to you.
“Are you studying my face to imagine if your features were on it?” Pam asks.
You nod. “You’d look horrible with my eyebrows,” you tell her. “But I think you would have benefited from my cheekbones. Your mom doesn’t have very defined cheekbones, does she?”
Little Pam shakes her head no. “Pisses me off,” she says.
“You have his big skull,” you say, reaching out to adjust her hair. “They shouldn’t part your hair like that with a skull like his. I hated his haircuts.”
Pam smiles as you take a picture with your iPhone and show it to her. Her older brother Matt runs over and interrupts.
“Don’t talk to her, Pam,” he says. Then, to you, “Stop imagining us with your traits instead of our mom’s. You made your choice, lady.”
“Yes, I made my choice. And I’m happy with it,” you tell him.
“Yeah right. That why you stalk us at the playground once every autumn?” he asks. “Admit it! You wish we sprouted from your eggs, and you’re living your life in regret for giving our dad the kiss-off.”
“As if!” you shout at Matt. You march away from them, pissed. Matt can be such an asshole.
“I’d be so bummed if I was your mom, Matt!” you yell from the parking lot.
Pam looks sad.
“Not you Pam!” you shout. “You’re cool.”
Pam waves and says, “See you next year!” Then she and Matt run and make their nanny put down her phone and give them snacks.
Fuckin’ Matt. He always gets into your head. You’re doing fine. You only check in with them to be glad you don’t have to raise an assmunch like Matt. If only he knew that. Maybe you should write him a letter letting him know.
Pam’s cool though.
Happy Watch The Kids You Didn’t Want Day!
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
She’s Going To Say No Day!
You hired a high school brass band to lead from the restaurant to a waiting ferry that’s been decorated with petunias, her favorite flower. The ferry will take you deep into the water where the lead singer from her favorite boy band ($7000) will come up from below deck and serenade her with the song that was chosen as the theme for her senior prom, which she did not attend. The ferry will take the two of you to an island where a canopy bed has been assembled and covered in rose petals for her to lay down upon and receive a massage from a Spanish massage therapist who whispers into her ear how beautiful she is every 45 seconds. Next comes the dancing and singing improv troupe that will come out from the trees and pretend to be island natives inventing language so that one of them can write a love letter to your bride-not-to-be. Next come the fireworks spelling her name in the sky, then a white horse will trot out from the palm trees, then the horse will carry her to a beautiful garden full of frolicking bunny rabbits. She’ll lay down and the bunny rabbits, well-trained, will scurry about her and nuzzle her face while you read to her a poem you wrote. Next comes the check in her name for $75,000, followed by a huge cake that her dad will jump out of (stationed in Afghanistan, you petitioned to get him leave for the weekend to be here for this). Finally you’ll get down on one knee and give her the ring with the diamond you mined yourself, a plane will sky write your question across the sky while pre-teen ballerinas flutter about her and drape her in garlands of flowers. You’ll look up into her beautiful eyes and ask if she’ll be willing to spend the next 50 years by your side and she’s going to say no.
Happy She’s Going To Say No Day!
Happy She’s Going To Say No Day!
Monday, October 19, 2015
You’re The Landlord Day!
Today you get to be the landlord. Knock on everyone’s door and shout “You have to pay me the rent!” Tell the tenant with a loud stereo, “Hey what’d I tell you about that stereo, pally?” Tell the tenant cooking the smelly stew, “Hey what’d I tell you about that smelly stew? This hallway stinks like a soup kitchen.” Tell the tenant crying because his live-in girlfriend moved out, “Hey what’d I tell you about forgetting all about her and putting yourself out there to find someone new, someone worthy of all you have to offer and who isn’t always restless, always wondering if there’s a prettier, wealthier, more interesting-to-have-sex-with guy out there waiting to welcome her sweet bod into his bed while she’s wasting her time on a dink like you? Quit blowing your nose into your shirttails and go out to the club. Babes await!”
The crying tenant will tell you he appreciates the kind words but he still needs some time.
“Just take good care of her,” he’ll tell you.
Head back down to your apartment where his ex is panting for you to make love to her again because you’re the landlord. Who can resist? It’s not even fair.
Happy You’re The Landlord Day!
The crying tenant will tell you he appreciates the kind words but he still needs some time.
“Just take good care of her,” he’ll tell you.
Head back down to your apartment where his ex is panting for you to make love to her again because you’re the landlord. Who can resist? It’s not even fair.
Happy You’re The Landlord Day!