Daily Archives: April 16, 2017

Elderly Hipsters

It’s a disturbing trend, 3.5 readers. A disturbing trend indeed.

This weekend I saw three elderly hipsters.

Two were a couple.  She had this wacky poofy hair style even though half her hair was gone.

He had a leather jacket and a trilby. I mean, WTF?  If you’re old then you can wear a fedora because you can be all like, “I was wearing this since it was in style.”

But a trilby?  Yeesh. Old ass hipster.

Then I saw an old woman wearing “Juicy Couture” pants. Ugh. I mean yeah it’s juicy I suppose but at that age that’s not the kind of juice I want in my glass.

It’s starting. The aging of people who grew up with hipsterism.  They will retain their hipster ways forever.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 15

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Natalie reached into bra and pulled out two giant ripe cantaloupes.

“There wasn’t a smaller fruit available?” Natalie asked.

“Hey,” Walt answered as he loaded his equipment into the back of the news van. “You know what they say in this game. ‘Go big or go home.’”

Natalie sighed as she removed her fake blonde wig. “Somehow I doubt Walter Cronkite was forced to shove a kielbasa down his pants.”

“Eh,” Walt said. “It’s all up to you, kid. Call them a bunch of sexist pigs and sue them. Stuff melons down your shirt just to get some airtime. Either way, no one could blame you.”

Natalie was putting her bra stuffers in the back of the van when her phone beeped. An incoming text message. “ANOTHER ONE AT SITWELL COMMUNITY COLLEGE.”

“Oh my God,” Natalie said as she showed her phone to Walt. “This is massive.”

“Let’s roll,” Walt replied.

Walt hopped into the driver’s seat. Natalie got into the passenger’s side. The cameraman drove through downtown Boca Raton, on his way to the highway.

“Three murders in one night,” Natalie said as she played with her phone. “In different parts of the state. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

“Not at all,” Walt said. “Who do you suppose is giving you these tips?” Walt asked.

“No idea,” Natalie said. “I looked up the number. Couldn’t find a source.”

“Weird,” Walt said.

“Whoever it is, they’re making my career,” Natalie said.

Walt grumbled under his breath. “Ergh.”

“What?” Natalie asked.

“I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Walt said. “But you should look this gift horse in the mouth. Check its teeth, its gums, everything.”

“You think I should just ignore tips on a story this big?” Natalie said.

“No,” Walt replied. “Not at all. Just know that nothing in life is free. There’s a cost to everything. Whoever is texting you might have something to gain from this. Hell, for all we know this person might be…”
Natalie’s heart raced. She took a deep breath and put her thumbs to work on her phone. “Are you the killer?” Natalie asked via text message.

The next few seconds were the longest seconds of Natalie’s life. Whoosh! An incoming text message. “NO COMMENT.”

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Happy Easter, 3.5 Readers

Oh, 3.5 readers.  What would I do without you?

Thank you for being my 3.5 readers.  Enjoy your day.

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SNL Goes Coast to Coast at the Same Time

Hey 3.5 readers.

You know, I always had a question.  What time does Saturday Night Live come on in the West Coast?

I never really knew.  But now I assume it must have been taped live and shown live on the East Coast and then, what, they held it and showed it at 11:30 in the West Coast?

Is that what happened?  I don’t even know.  If you’re one of my 3.5 West Coast readers, fill me in on this.

I suppose the problem with that is then technically it’s not Saturday Night “Live” and also with social media being so prevalent, half the country is in on a joke for hours before the other half.  If you’re on the West Coast, your East Coast buddies are talking about stuff you haven’t seen yet.

It’s like time travel!  Freaky!

Anyway, Jimmy Fallon celebrated this momentous occasion with a song and dance number:

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In Case You Missed It – Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Romance Movie Fan

Oh Hollywood.  You’re always making men look so much better than we are, thus letting women down whenever we fart or burp or do something that doesn’t live up to your ultra high standards.

Is your girlfriend way too addicted to Romance Movies?  Check this fabulous list to be sure.

shutterstock_3277737

 

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 14

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Cole and Rusty were relieved by a few of Sitwell’s finest. The duo stood in the lobby of the sorority house and looked out through the window. A sea of Looky Lous had formed and since most of them were in college, they were all holding red plastic cups filled with all manner of alcoholic beverages.

“Countess Cuca-who-ga?” Cole asked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rusty said. “I’d say you must be living under a rock if I didn’t spend most of my time with you.”

“She famous?” Cole asked with true sincerity.

Rusty stared at Cole as though he had snakes popping out of his ears. “Is she famous?”

“Well who the hell is she?” Cole asked.

“Only the first recording artist to ever have a record go octuple platinum,” Rusty said. “That’s eight times the platinum.”

“She one of those rappers?” Cole asked.

“Pop diva,” Rusty replied. “Sang about her big ole badonka donk.”

“Badonka what?” Cole asked.

“Jesus,” Rusty said. “It’s what the kids call a big ass these days, Cole. Please get out more. Really, I’m worried about you.”

“She can’t be that good if I’ve never heard of her,” Cole said.

“Oh hell,” Rusty said. “If it isn’t on the Country Western station then you’ve never heard of it.”

“A fat ass is nothing to sing about, Rusty,” Cole said. “Pickup trucks. Horses. Long lost loves that will never come back again. That’s the stuff good songs are made of.”

“You’re forever trapped in the 90s,” Rusty said.

“Last time period that ever made sense to me,” Cole said.

The easily offended protesters were back and they began pounding on the glass.

“We want answers!” one protestor shouted.

“Cops are worse than Hitler!” another protester cried.

Cole rested his hands on his belt. “Goddamn hippies.”
“They call ‘em hipsters now,” Rusty noted.

“Same difference, different century,” Cole said.

“Yeah, well, Mr. Trapped in 1999,” Rusty said as he watched the angry college students bang their fists all over the glass door. “You’d better join us in 2017 right quick because this shit is gonna be big. I’m talking O.J. Simpson big.”

Cole blew a contemptuous raspberry at his partner. “No way that famous big butt girl was in the same league as O.J. Simpson.”

Rusty held up his phone. He pressed the NN1 app and Kurt Manley appeared on the tiny screen. “This just in…our NN1 celebrity murder analyst is here to talk about why the Countess Cucamonga case blows the ever loving shit out of the O.J. Simpson case…”

“I rest my case,” Rusty said.

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Nine Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays!

Happy Easter, 3.5 readers.  Do yourself a favor.  Cancel all your plans with family and friends.

Instead of that whole mess, kick back with a beer and a chocolate bunny and read the greatest novel ever written about an alligator who pops out of toilets and bites people on the butt.

toilet-gator-book-1

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