Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of July 15, 2018
I would prefer to do the work of a long-haul truck driver or a Great Lakes shipping captain or a bellhop or a plumber than whatever the fuck it is that I think do for a living now.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of July 8, 2018
• If you take seriously anything FOX News or Huffington Post report, you have also probably bought a time share.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of July 1, 2018
Christians are not the most persecuted group in the world. However, Christians who are assholes are being prosecuted in the court of public opinion. And that’s a good thing for everyone, especially Christians.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of June 24, 2018
I’m not gay. Not even bi-curious. But I think Gene Kelly is the sexiest man to have ever lived, and without question or pause, I would dig up his bones and dry hump them to full completion.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of June 16, 2018
If you don’t know the difference between Fake News and an egregious journalistic error, you are too stupid to read the news. Instead, turn on HGTV, subscribe to The Pioneer Woman Magazine and keep your head up your ass.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Father's Day Edition
Seeing your infant son play Slap the Bag with your wife’s breast is pretty damn funny.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of May 28, 2018
Samantha Bee calling Ivanka Trump a cunt is not funny. That’s because it’s not a joke. I never thought Samantha Bee was all that great at telling jokes anyhow. But it is totally reasonable to call Ivanka Trump a cunt. Bee shouldn’t have apologized. Saying sorry because Big Viacom said to do so is a real cunty thing to do.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of May 20, 2018
My wife told me that while changing our son’s diaper yesterday, he reached down, grabbed his little nut sack and yanked on it. “He’s your son,” she said to me. “He’s already sitting in gum.” If you understand what she’s talking about then you know how proud my son has made me.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Advice to My Brother and His Fiancé on their Wedding Day Edition
• Go to bed angry. It’s always better to finish the fight in the morning with a clear head.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of May 6, 2017
• Saw a street cleaning vehicle dumping its contents out into a dumpster this week. I’ve never seen that before. I had always thought that whatever filth the street cleaning vehicles sucked up got turned into Mayor Ron Emanuel’s moral code.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of April 29, 2018
• Ah, yes, May 4th. The day Star Wars fans make fun of people with lisps.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of April 22, 2018
• Never pity a fat man. Empathize with an obese one.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of April 15, 2018
• Former First Lady Barbara Bush is an inspiration when it comes to family. She stood by and supported her husband as he ramped up the War on Drugs and exacerbated systemic disadvantages toward people of color. And she was proud of her bumbling nitwit son as he committed heinous war crimes. If Barbara Bush can do that, then Katie should have no problem always having my back, and no matter what kind of human turd my son ends up becoming, I’ll always be proud of him. Thank you, Mrs. Bush, for being such a role model.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — It's All About Dogs!
• While my son is growing on me, I’d still trade him in for a puppy. Even a puppy can play fetch. My son sucks at fetch. And even though I understand it would require my wife to have fucked a canine, I was moronically hoping that she’d give birth to a puppy. But most of all, I wish that my son and Eddie could have shared some snuggles.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of April 1, 2018
• On the first of the month, I engage in that superstitions tradition of saying “rabbit, rabbit” when I first wake up, before I say anything else. When one does this, one is resigned to have good luck throughout that month. On Sunday, April 1, 2018, the first thing I said was not, “rabbit, rabbit.” I said, “Fuckinggoddammit, Harry! What is your fucking deal? I just changed you. You just ate. Is it gas? Do you have to fart? Jesus fucking Christ, calm down, please!” As a result, I’m gravely concerned over what my luck will be like this month.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of March 25, 2018
• Easter was canceled. They found the body.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of March 18, 2018
• Never mistake a lack of enthusiasm for a lack of care. Sometimes displaying enthusiasm is the same as walking into battle with your flak jacket in the Jeep and your shirt wide open.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of March 11, 2018
• If you respond to my LinkedIn post requesting the services of a proofreader and your website has a typo in the first sentence you will break my heart. You will also not get the job.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of March 4, 2018
• I like bookstores. I like local bookstores. I like Volumes Bookcafe in Wicker Park. But Volumes is the kind of bookstore Emily Giffen would write if she was describing a trendy, punk bookstore in the hipster part of town in one of her romantic chick lit novels. “There’s a coffee bar in the bookstore and the baristas have tattoos. Claire wondered how many of those tattoos were inspired by heartbreak. ‘Maybe,’ Claire thought, ‘I should get a tattoo.’”
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of February 25, 2018
• My pregnant wife could pop that kid out at any given moment. People keep asking me if I’m scared or freaking out or panicking. No. None of those things. I’m ready to get on with it. I have been for months. Let’s get this little turd out and get on with the New World Order. The sooner he’s here, the sooner he’ll be old enough to come sailing with his old man and have a conversation without shitting himself. That’s what I’m looking forward to.
How do you want to be defined? By one action? By some opinion that could evolve? By a mistake, regrettable only with hindsight? Or by the sum of your parts? Okay, do that for other people. Start the trend.