Pacific Monarch calls to offer me one of five glorious prizes (including $100,000) but the conversation turns to discussing the time I sent my friend Jim a bunch of ham and just what exactly he did with all that ham. Pacific Monarch isn’t giving away ham, but they’re interested nonetheless. It’s a long one, but shorter than most podcasts. And it’s freeeeeee!
Listen to it here.
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Hola, me llamo es Pablo.
For those who don’t know Spanish, the above phrase translates pretty loosely to mean, “Hello, My Name is Paul.” It was the first phrase I ever learned in Spanish class, the only phrase I can access in a Spanish speaking environment without having to put much thought into it, and above all — it solidifies one very important thing about myself. My name is Paul. That’s 100% for sure. Which is why my blood really begins to boil…
…when someone calls me Pablocito.
Welcome, once again, to yet another edition of WFME’s You Decide. That’s where you decide between two choices, on your own, without any tampering from yours truly whatsoever.
This week, You Decide pulls back the film on the underbelly of what some people like to call El Socieded de Tacos (or, in English, The World In Which Tacos Reign Supreme) — which is not to be confused with a Supreme Burrito or Nacho Bell Grande Supreme. We’re talkin’ tacos today, people, so roll up those sleeves and get ready to decide.
2 Tacos for $.99? Or 99 Tacos for $.02?
Let me pose a very important hypothetical question to you.
Let’s say you were stranded on a desert island. Then two weeks later another guy also got stranded on the desert island with you. And there was only one coconut on one tree. And you’d already spent a few days trying to get down the coconut, and this new guy came along and he started trying to get the coconut too. Don’t you think that you, being the first coconut pursuer should get the coconut and the second guy who was late to the game should wait or go find his own coconut somewhere else?
If you agree, then the soap dispenser argument is right up your alley.
Just a few things on my To Do list to take care of on today’s glorious holiday, President’s Day. Some are left over from the previous year, while I’ve been saving many of these for today in particular.
Most importantly, however, is that these particular To Do items (in my humble opinion) can not be done on any other day than today. Some have said that some could be dealt with on Lincoln’s birthday, but I completely and wholeheartedly disagree.
Also — today’s post is dedicated to the South African Sea Otters, who are rapidly reaching extinction.
- Call my friends and family over 50 years of age, pretending to be Richard Nixon — the only Presidential impression I can do, and make sure they know (over and over again) that “I am not a crook.” (Also, the only phrase I can say, that sounds like Richard Nixon, in using the only impression I can do of a President.)
- Use the phrase “I categorically oppose that motion!” over and over again in today’s conversations, simply based on the fact that such a phrase sounds pretty damn Presidential if you ask me.
- Walk into a mattress store that’s having a President’s Day sale, and peruse the most expensive King Size beds, and promise to buy said expensive King Size bed as long as the salesman can tell me who the first ten Presidents of the United States were.
- Insist people buy me presents since the letters that make the word “presents” come from the word President’s Day. Then use the left over letters “Id Day” and insist that obviously these letters just confirm the fact that today is all about me, my instincts, and yes…presents. Presents. Id Day. No question about it.
- Drive a Lincoln Town car, play with a Ray Gun, finish drawing up plans for my Dorothy Hammil skater amusement park that I’m calling “Hammil Town,” start drawing up plans for my money making venture that will be established inside of previously mentioned “Hammil Town” which will simply be a three-story coin-operated laundry facility called “Little Washing Town” and where nobody will ever tell a lie (unless they make a mistake that affects our bottom line), fondle my adam’s apple and wonder why women don’t have ’em, and most importantly — do some gardening and remember when I’m in the ivy to watch out for the burrs.
- Officially announce my candidacy for President of the United States.
- Officially retract my candidacy for President of the United States due to personal reasons I can unfortunately not reveal at this point in time.
- Call Joaquin Phoenix, Jerry Lewis, Luke Perry, Rena Sofer, the cheerleader from Heroes, Bob Saget and NewsRadio’s Joe Rogan and remind them that it’s President’s Day so they don’t forget like they did last year.
- Shave. But in a very Presidential way. (I.e., clearing my throat with each stroke, then as I clean off the blade in the murky water, say something like, “I just can’t see the forest from the trees, National Security Advisor.”
- Remind myself that had I not done that thing in 1994 in the final days of my college years that involved a box of Pop Rocks and an entire Sorority’s freshman pledge class, I probably wouldn’t have had to retract my candidacy for President of the United States back up there when I retracted my candidacy for President.