As I peruse the internet I happened upon a website called Craigslist and there is a section within that site call Missed Connections where the love-lorn and the star-crossed may leave a binary shout out to their unrequited loves. As I browsed I was struck by the strange absence of my name or postings asking for me. I thought this to be just a mistake as I am pretty awesome. I surmised that you are not descriptive enough in your posts as to catch my attention so, to that end, I have written a Missed Connection for you to use so that you may garner my attention better.

I saw you early monday morning driving to work in your 2000 Toyota Camry. You in your middle aged glory as you listened to talk radio and puffed on your cigarette as you drove exactly the speed limit on the 101. I see you every morning, the sun shining off your balding head. I like the way that you shave rarely and always have a little facial hair going on. You seem to be a quiet sort preferring to read books over watching TV. I can tell by the few extra pounds you carry that you are not athletic but not obese, not even the male version of a BBW which we know is code for fat.

We have never spoke but I can tell you are witty and urbane and yet silly and very random.

A tool with a sense of humor.

If I see you again Ill say hi and make it painfully clear that I would like to have a cup of coffee with you as I can see that you are a social retard and have a hard time picking up on signals.

“Hello?”

“Yes, hi Chris it is your brother”

“You know I have caller ID right?”

“Yes I am aware of that”

“Is Mom/your wife/your kids/everything else ok?”

“Yes”

“So you are just calling to say hi?”

“Yes”

Then it begins

“Well, seeing that all is well let me wish you a good day”

“And a good day to you sir”

“I thank you for your greeting and wish to send you well wishes of my own”

“Thank you for that, you are a goodly fellow”

“I see your goodly fellow and raise you that you a hail fellow well met”

“Your salutation is well received and I say bon chance”

“I accept your bon chance and counter with guten tag”

“Thank you for that and buenos dias to you kind sir”

“Thank you and I hope your day is festooned with goodness and jocularity”

“And I wish for you a day bedazzled with goodness and frivolity”

“I thank you and wish prosperous health”

“Your kind words are well received and I hope that your children are masculine”

There is about 20 minuted of this that goes on before one of us, usually me, just hangs up.

“I will double-knot your sneakers.”

“I will re-sort your Tupperware.”

“I guess its time to potty-train the monkey.”

“Got your co-pay ready?”

“Paper or plastic?”

“I am the Sun and you are the Moon.” (just keep repeating this)

“I am the Gatekeeper, are you the Key-master?”

“I am not gonna pay allot for this muffler.”

I am not sure that any of these work as I haven’t been in a fight for 20 years. Having said that, I would think twice if a confrontational person uttered any of these lines as they squared of with me.

I had just moved into my new house and all the lifting really tweaked my back. I’m not sure why, I was keeping my legs locked and lifting with my groin as I was taught. I took a hand full painkillers and still could not sleep, I needed a heating pad. I was not feeling pain but I knew I had to fix my back or I would pay for it in the morning.

Looks like I was heading to Walmart as it was 4 am.

Walmart at its best is a nightmare, the shallow end of the gene pool laid bare for all to see. At it’s worst its akin to a Fellini movie starring the cast of Deliverance. As I walked in I was accosted by some twenty-something stoners driving the Walmart scooters in circles. The scooters are for the elderly and disabled not banal hipsters that are on the pot with their Rock and Roll music (get off my lawn!-God I’m old). Cheech and Chong over there seemed to think that the carts were meant for them and not the elderly lady walking in the door. After a few moments of this lady waiting for the stoners to get up and offer her a cart she started to hobble into the store.

I saw this and as I had already reached my limit of rudeness and bullshit for the day and took action.

I walked over and yelled “Hey, jackball. Get of the cart”. His reply was that there were other carts available and then he questioned my parentage. I tend to act rashly at times and my tolerance for jackassery is very low. I leaned back a bit, raised my knee to waist height and loosed a vicious snap kick to the scooter seat. The desired effect was realized as the hippie went flying. His buddy got of his scooter and I walked the scooter over to lady. She said she was fine and I insisted that she use the scooter that she obviously needed. She thanked me and I wished her a good day.

The moral of my story should be obvious by now, I am a complete tool with poor impulse control.

That and I think I’m a superhero.

A Walmart Superhero

2. A ponytail makes one look like less of a bad ass and in no way deflects really bad acting.

3. There is a limit to which wearing black can hide your pot belly and wearing it in every scene kinda gives away the the fact that you are wearing it because you are fat.

4. Even though you look like an Asian mongoloid Hollywood might hire you.

5. Hire a body double for every scene that doesn’t show your face. Even the scenes where you are doing anything mildly athletic.

6. Most people fold their arms across their chest in a pseudo manly gesture, don’t rest your girly arms on top of your pot belly thereby drawing attention to said pot belly.

7. A halting delivery when speaking made William Shatner and Christopher Walken famous men, you just sound like a dumb ass that cant recall your lines.

8. When Googling your name the word douchebag comes up in every 3rd result.

9. One does not need to be proficient at martial arts to be billed as knowing same. For example if you can spell Kenpo I guess you can proclaim to be a master.

10. If you weren’t famous you’d be know as “that creepy guy”.

I was at the corner mini-mart after work to get my post work soda. I was parked in the second to last slot. I usually take the farthest slot so that no one can sneak up behind me (its a partially deaf thing, I can’t tell where sound is coming from and in noisy environments I try to avoid any embarrassments).

I was bent over with the passenger door open cleaning the trash from the passenger side.

That’s when it happened. You slid in behind me in a Jeep filled with two of your girlfriends and as you cut the engine I farted, right at you. I thought I was alone and loosed the aggregate farts that I had been saving all day. The sound was deafening, even to this deaf guy.

The sound was akin to a cat and an empty paint can being throw into a dryer and the spun for 5 seconds. It must have scared you, it scared me.

I saw movement out of my good eye and immediately spun around in shock, I had no idea people were behind me or I wouldn’t have initiated the full launch sequence. There was a lot of road noise around us as I told you “Its my fan belt, it makes odd noises”. You saw the car keys in my hand and told me that fan belts do that sometimes but my car isn’t turned on. I scrambled for a comeback then said ” That’s how bad it is. It makes that noise even when its turned off”.

You laughed and I did.

We had our little moment.

As you walked in the store and I opened the drivers door to get in and you said that I might want to get that checked. I asked if you where referring to my fan belt or my digestive system. You laughed a bit more as I pulled away.

Dear reader, that’s the closest I get to a love connection.

Well that and the fact that a 350 pound man was sitting across from me farting. Not the kind of I’m sorry that I have gas and will try to muffle the sound, no this was full on locker-room farting.

After the doctor assured me she was fine but they would have to run more tests I settled in for another 3 hour wait. That is when I took pen to paper ( really crayon that I took from the children’s play area and a brochure that spelled out the dangers of the Swine Flue or Monkey Pox or something animal-bore illness) and started naming your farts.

The list that follows is only partial as I got a late start in the flatulence nomenclature cycle.

The chippy

The gutbuster

Zig Zag

The horn o plenty

El Tootaroo

Sphinctorus Maximus

Poop Shute’in Boogey

Achey Brakey Fart

The Three Tenors

The Terd Burglar

They Took Our Jobs

Touching Cloth

The Snorlax

If you happen to be in the John C Lincoln ER you might just find this list as I tucked it back in the middle of the other brochures so that the names that I gave your farts can be enjoyed by future ER dwellers.