Watching Figure Skating Alone in the Dark on a Saturday Night

There’s nothing like settling in on a Saturday night, drinking 16 or 17 beers and watching people twirl around on the ice.  And I love weeping silently to myself after a really powerful dance move that coincides with the swelling of music.  So graceful.  So…petite.

Cool Runnings Quotes

Remember that movie?  Cool Runnings?  Well for a two week span, you were forced to listen to my criminally pathetic attempt at a Jamaican accent.  You also had to listen to me absolutely BUTCHER quotes from the movie.  Now that the Winter Olympics have come and gone, you have permission to slap and or punch me when when I break into the Jamaican bobsled song…a song with words that I can’t be bothered to look up.

The 5 Second Span Where My Friends and I Thought our Curling Yelling was Funny.

WHOA!! WHOAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! Hahaha, that was hilarious.  WHOA! Ha…not so much now though…

Realizing, Along with Other College Graduates, That I Honestly Don’t Know the Difference Between Great Britain and the UK…

Ok…so…they’re both similar, right?  I think Great Britain is part of the UK…or something…but what’s the difference?  And why the hell do a collection of countries get to compete together?  That’s kinda lame.  Can’t Scotland Whales and Northern Ireland compete for their own medals?  Or do they?  Wait, are Scotland Whales and Northern Ireland countries?  Ya never really hear about them.  I feel stupid.  I swear I’m smart…at least that’s what I tell people…

Daydreaming about Winning a Medal in an Unusual Way

I honestly have played through this scenario a few times in the past week:

I competed in the biathlon and did okay.  I didn’t come anywhere close to winning, or so I thought.  Months later, I’m unemployed, sitting in my kitchen in my mobile home (somewhere in Florida) opening my mail.  I come across a letter from the IOC.  The letter says that the entire Norwegian, Swedish and Finish teams were disqualified in the biathlon for using bullets that weren’t sanctioned by the IOC and using experimental screws in their skies that were banned the previous year.  So, after 38 people were DQd, I, by default, came in third and won a bronze medal.  I silently say, “What the hell?” to myself in my dimly lit, shitty home.  A week later my bronze medal is mailed to me and it clearly has been damaged–damage that occurred when the IOC had to forcibly take the medal from its previous owner in a police shootout.  I put the medal in my sock drawer for a week until I pawn it for cash–cash that I use to buy dish soap.

Eating Ham Straight Out of the Deli Bag

*Joe stuffs a fist-full of ham into his mouth*  ”WAHOOOOO!!!  OLYMPICS!!!!”

Satan himself designed and implemented the very first elevator.  It’s a historic fact.  He filed the patent on a bitter cold February morning and then cackled wildly as a notary public stamped the approval documents (he then proceeded to buy a mint julep from a street vendor, drank it too fast, fell victim to “brain freeze,” and then took a nap–this is too is documented).

Only Satan could devise a transportation device that forces people into the most awkward and jittery situation imaginable.  Has anyone had a “successful” ride in an elevator?  Is it even possible to ride in one and escape with your dignity in tact?  I submit “no”.  I also submit “no” again and ask that the previous “no” be reprinted in bold wingdings font.  Thank you, your honor.

I’m forced to ride in an elevator on a daily basis at work and after only two weeks I’m begging the security guards in the building to close the damnable machine for good.  Here are a few of the situations that I’ve been put in…

I was Caught Trying to Close the Doors After Someone Yelled to Hold the Doors

Don’t look at me like that.  You would have done the same thing.  I’ll do almost anything to avoid riding in an elevator with a stranger.  Hell, I’ll do anything to avoid riding in an elevator with a friend!!!  I’m stuck in three square feet of space.  We only have less than a minute together.  I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THE WEATHER, SPORTS, OR HOW YOU HIT SOMEONE IN THE PARKING LOT AND LEFT A FAKE NOTE.

In this instance, a woman with her hands full of crap (probably drugs or illegal documents judging by her surly manner), yelled out “Hold that door!”  I said, “I’ll try!”  I then jammed my finger on the Door Close button as fast as I could.  The doors shut quickly, but not quick enough.  The woman slid in at the last minute, spilling her things all over the inside of the elevator.  She picked up her things and looked at me.  Verbatim, this is the conversation between us:

Surly Woman: You were pressing the close button, weren’t you?  Don’t lie.  I know you were.  If you REALLY wanted to hold  the doors for me, you would have held your arm out.  There’s something seriously wrong with a person like you.

Me: (As the woman is walking out onto her floor and the doors are closing) Yes, I was.  And I’d do it again if I had the chance.

I Convinced a Cute Girl that I’m Incompetent

So there’s a cute girl that works on my floor.  We’ve made eye contact several times and I’ve even made her laugh several times with quick comments as we’ve passed.  I was ready for an actual conversation.  But then an elevator fucked up everything.  It was first thing on Monday morning and I was really tired, barely paying attention, and a zombie by most definitions of the word.  The elevator was almost full when the cute girl slipped in at the last minute.  I had a whole fucking conversation planned, but I wasn’t ready for her to pop in like that.

I panicked and forgot to press my floor button.  I realized my mistake as we began moving and went to hit the button…but then accidentally hit the Emergency Stop button.  The alarm went off and the elevator screeched to a stop.  We had to wait ten minutes for security to Un-Emergency Stop us.  The entire effing elevator was laughing at me.  To make matters worse, the elevator stopped at a floor before mine and I got off.  Several people in the elevator KNEW I was on the wrong floor–including the girl.  I just walked off, checking my phone and humming an incoherent tune.  I haven’t made eye-contact with the cute girl since.  Thanks a lot, you demon machine!!!

Two Separate People have Started Crying in the Elevator with me.

A guy one time and some woman the other time.  Each time the doors closed and as soon as the elevator started moving the other person started crying hysterically.  I scrunched up against the corner and looked at my shoes.  I checked my phone.  Checked my watch.  Scanned the inspection sticker.  Nope, this crazy person was STILL CRYING.

The second incident was the worse, by far.  We hit SIX FLOORS while she was crying and on each floor someone was about to get in, saw a crazy woman crying, looked at me and then said, “oops, this is going up…I need to uh…go…down.”

Those assholes didn’t need to go down.

Lastly, to drive home my point of the evility of elevators, I have included a letter that John Adams wrote to Thomas Jefferson:

Dear Sir,

At the expense of sounding quite the fool, I’m admitting to you that I have recently fallen down the stairs in my home.  I slipped on my nightgown, tumbled head-over-heels and struck my head on a banister.  So it is with a dizzy head and my wife’s name not entirely certain to me, that I urge you, sir, to you avoid all elevators in this life and the next.  I will be submitting to Congress a bill that will call for the destruction of all Elevators and the immediate hanging of any elevator inventors or salesmen.  It may even behoove me to urge congress to hang the children and cousins of a elevator salesman.  I haven’t decided yet.  Furthermore, when I figure out what the devil an elevator is, I will diddle you a doodle so we may fight this fight together.  TO ARMS, I say!

Your humbly confused servant:

John Adams.

As you may or may not have known, Joe was nearly forced to dress up in a cocktail dress and sell his wares to the shifty-eyed snickerers of Los Angeles (and by “wares” I mean armpit skin tags, uvula phlegm, and pinkeye crust).  Luckily, Joe has found temporary employment until this whole writing gig pans out.  But early last week, Joe was very nearly scammed by the stupidest fucking person on the planet.

Situation: I applied to a Personal Assistant job that was posted on Craigslist.  These types of jobs are posted all the time and are very often jobs assisting writers, producers and directors–not a horrible way to break into the business and/or make contacts.  A day after applying, I got a response for the job I applied for.  The guy responding said he was a business man of sorts that traveled out of the country often and needed an assistant to run errands, keep a schedule, do office tasks and other crap.  He offered $500 a week under the table, so I said, “hells yeah.” (in a high-girlish scream b/c I was very excited and no one was around to laugh at me.  To kick things off, he said to meet him on Yahoo Chat so we could go over the specifics and save on long distance (b/c he was currently in Australia on business).  Here is the conversation that ensued…

cpalmer17: hello

joek885: hi

cpalmer17: hey you

cpalmer17: Hiw are you doing there?

joek885: well…the weather has been crummy, but making the best of it

cpalmer17: That is good

cpalmer17: I am sure you understand all that is in the email

joek885: Yes, it seemed pretty straight forward

cpalmer17: That is good

cpalmer17: and when are you looking to start?

joek885: I’m free to start immediately, if you have work for me

cpalmer17: that isa great

cpalmer17: is

cpalmer17: sorry

cpalmer17: i had an internet problem

cpalmer17: You there?

joek885: yep

joek885: no problem, my internet gets spotty at times here

cpalmer17: That is kool

cpalmer17: so you are the only lucky one that i have chosen

joek885: excellent, I’m ready for whatever you’ve got

Note: YES, I realize this starts off sounding like he wants to have sex with me…

cpalmer17: That is great

cpalmer17: Actuallly you will be getting a check next week that consist your pay and the remaining money will be for the homepless people i told you about in the email

joek885: sounds good, just shoot me an email with the specifics and the address and I’ll take care of that

cpalmer17: That sounds okay

cpalmer17: Did you send me your details yet?

joek885: yes, emailed it this morning

cpalmer17: That sounds great

joek885: I hit on all the questions you mentioned in your email–just let me know if you need anymore information

cpalmer17: Its okay I will let you know

cpalmer17: You have a debit or credit card?

Note: At this point, I know that this asshole is trying to scam me.  As I continue to talk with this guy and play along, my buddy is busy researching his Craigslist ad and response email online.

joek885: yeah, I have a credit card

cpalmer17: I need you to do something for me

cpalmer17: I actually need 2 personal assistant

cpalmer17: one from LA, which is you and the other from Phoenix, Az

cpalmer17: so you can handle all the business in your district and the other person can do the business in his or her area

cpalmer17: You busy or feeling sleeping?

joek885: nope, not busy

cpalmer17: So i need you to make a post on craiglist for me so i can recruit the second personal assistant

joek885: sounds good, when do you need the posts done?

cpalmer17: By Wednesday Morning

cpalmer17: Can you get that done for me?

cpalmer17: You there?

joek885: Is there anyway you could Paypal me the money?  I definitely want to get started working for you, but I’m not sure my first task for you can be to purchase something with my credit card for you

cpalmer17: You will be reimbursed back and the ad is just for 25dollars

cpalmer17: you  will get your money back next week when you get your pay check

joek885: ok, I think that’s fair

cpalmer17: so you willing to do that for me?

joek885: yeah, I can get that done

cpalmer17: So you will do it and it should be posted in Phoenix, Arizona

joek885: got it

cpalmer17: Here is the email address they are to repsond to

cpalmer17: clockp115@gmail.com

cpalmer17: got that?

joek885: got it

cpalmer17: so as soon as you wake up kindly get it done and let me know when it is up and running and forward the confirmation email to me

joek885: k, first thing in the morning

cpalmer17: Kool

cpalmer17: you have a craiglist account?

joek885: nope, haven’t had to post on it

cpalmer17: ok so you have to register before posting

cpalmer17: i need the wordings to be unique and different from the ones online and the pay should be 500also

joek885: ok, do you want the details to be similar or different from the ad I responded to?

cpalmer17: it can be similar but very different but the message should be the same thing

cpalmer17: did you get the email address i just gave you noted down?

cpalmer17: clockp115@gmail.com

joek885: yep, got it jotted down–I’ll save this convo too, so I’ll have everything on file

cpalmer17: kool

joek885: do you have a copy of your original post on Craigslist?  Just want to take a look at it so I know what points to hit on

cpalmer17: no i deleted it since i got the response i needed

cpalmer17: you can get that off hand

joek885: got a quick question for you

cpalmer17: yes please?

joek885: do you know a Ronald Wilt?

My Initial plan was to confront him here.  My buddy found the EXACT SAME email that I received online.  I actually post the link in this conversation, so if you’re curious, you should check it out.  Ronald Wilt is the fake name that he used in the past scam.  I made a decision on the fly to fuck with this guy…and here’s what happens…

cpalmer17: No i dont know him

cpalmer17: why the question?

joek885: I think he could pose a small problem for the Craigslist ad…not sure to what degree though

cpalmer17: why that?

joek885: it seems that he’s been posting similar ads to yours on Craigslist and each of them are being flagged, so I’ll have to be careful how I word your post…I’ll have to be clever about it

cpalmer17: how did you know this?

joek885: don’t worry, I have my sources–the main thing is we gotta play it cool and get this ad up on Craigslist

cpalmer17: ok

joek885: so first off, I’ll get that post up

joek885: I’m going to email Ronald about this flagging issue and see what the deal is

cpalmer17: That is why you need to make the wordings very careful so it wont look like theres

cpalmer17: what deal?

joek885: His sly business that he has going

cpalmer17: sly business? explain better please

joek885: he’s obviously trying to shank people by scamming them with a fake ad, so I think we should contact him and shake him down a little–get in his face and get him to back off…show him what’s what, so to speak

cpalmer17: i see

cpalmer17: you got a lot of mind you know

joek885: indeed I do

joek885: I think we should both contact him though

joek885: i got his email from an ad response he sent a contact of mine

joek885: get him to stop this scamming business so honest business people like yourself can get down to brass tacks and get that bottom line bubbling like chilli on a Sunday

joek885: ronaldwilt63@yahoo.com

joek885: send him an email and ask him what’s up–I’m doing the same

joek885: he also seems to be sending out the EXACT SAME EMAIL you are in response to the craigslist ad

cpalmer17: i cant do that now but maybe when i get on my computer

cpalmer17: how come?

joek885: http://www.fraudwatchers.org/forums/showpost.php?s=45b1b5ca217a0ecb1025dd0119cbdda6&p=98847&postcount=20

On this link is THE EXACT EMAIL this moron used on me.  I thought this would be the end of the conversation, because I’m showing him I know it’s a scam.  But, if you haven’t figured this out already, he doesn’t know English that well, so he can’t sense the sarcasm in my writing.  How unfortunate for him…

joek885: this jackass is stealing your material

joek885: so we gotta figure out how to stop him

joek885: and fast

joek885: before your business ends up suffering

cpalmer17: so that is the link where you get the post from?

cpalmer17: i really appreciate this and i think i made the right choice by employing you from the many applicants i had

joek885: yes, you’re very lucky–I’m really good at doing internet research…quite possibly the best in the world, if i do say so myself

cpalmer17: Best in the world?

joek885: damn straight

cpalmer17: got to go now

cpalmer17: so make sure you get everything done asap

joek885: okay, I love you…stay in touch

cpalmer17: You Love who?

joek885: I love you, of course, you silly willy

cpalmer17: you kidding me?

joek885: hahahaha, yeah, I’m just jerk’n ur chain

joek885: I’m emotionless, essentially

joek885: like a robot, when I cry tears, they rust my metal face

cpalmer17: what?

joek885: water rusts metal

cpalmer17: hey talk to me and maybe we can do somethings together

joek885: not business, of course

cpalmer17: business

cpalmer17: how old are you please?

joek885: 34

cpalmer17: male or female?

joek885: female

cpalmer17: you got to be kidding me lol

cpalmer17: so what is the deal now?

joek885: well I was

joek885: the deal is, we have 48 hrs to make A LOT of money–but we gotta do things on the up and up

cpalmer17: so how do we do that?

joek885: I mean, fast cars, dirty women, and as much bubbly as we can fit in the trunk of the Escalade

cpalmer17: what do you do?

joek885: we floor it and when we hit the boarder, we ditch the car in a bush and shoot some fireworks off until the Federalies haul us off to prison

joek885: if you dig deep enough in a couch, you can find almost anything

cpalmer17: so you found me?

joek885: found you?

joek885: I found Ronny

joek885: we gotta GET EM

cpalmer17: i dont understand all you have been saying nit wit…

joek885: that hurts…I don’t love you anymore

joek885: so you’re originally from Canada, eh?

cpalmer17: yes

joek885: i got that craigslist post up already, btw

joek885: so you’re ready to go on that

cpalmer17: what are you talking about?

joek885: I put up the Craigslist ad like you wanted

joek885: I messed up the first one, so I had to put up a second one

joek885: so you owe me $50 now

cpalmer17: i thought i told you in the morning?

joek885: It’s scheduled to post in the morning

cpalmer17: what is the meaning of all this?

joek885: I

joek885: Scheduled

joek885: your

joek885: craigslist

joek885: ad

joek885: for

joek885: the

joek885: morning

joek885: and

joek885: you

joek885: owe

joek885: me

joek885: 50

joek885: bucks

cpalmer17: what is this?

joek885: this what you asked me to do

joek885: post the craigslist ad

joek885: so I do it

joek885: I good?

cpalmer17:  when it is up and running and started receiving response i will know its don

cpalmer17: done*

joek885: yeah, I gotcha–eating cherios and check’n the email…nice little wednesday afternoon ya got planned there in the land down under.

UPDATE:  This is not over yet.  Believe it or not, I have received a follow up email saying that I’ve done a good job and I’m being paid.  I HAVE DONE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FOR THIS IDIOT.  I have since responded and will post the results soon.  Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

I’m a nail biter, so I deal with hang nails on a regular basis.  When it comes to hangnails or hangnail problems, you could say that I’m an expert–kinda like the dinosaur expert in the movie Lost World, except that I don’t have a giant beard.  Why am I tooting my own horn, you ask?  Well, I just want to extend my personal services to everyone reading this.

I don’t recommend an untrained person try to tackle a hangnail on their own.  I’ve been fighting hangnails on the front line for close to twenty years now and I know that when it comes to hangnails, you don’t fuck around or someone will wind up dead.  Now, normally my consultation services can run anywhere from $50,000 – $75,000.  But I’ve recently read that hangnail deaths are on the rise nearly 400%, so I figure it’s my duty to at least post some tips.

(If the Discovery Channel or History Channel people have stumbled across this blog, I encourage them to get in contact with me so I can discuss a TV series deal and line up a printer to make T-shirts for the show.  I’m think’n maybe a picture of a pair of nail clippers sodomizing a hangnail or possibly a miniature guillotine chopping off the end of a finger with a hangnail.  I’m kinda married to those two ideas, but I’m sure we could discuss variations.)

Tips for treating a basic hangnail:

1) DO NOT CALL THE POLICE.

The hangnail will want you to contact the authorities because they’ll negotiate a deal.  You don’t want this.  I have much respect for the police, but they’re bumbling idiots and incompetent boobs when it comes to removing a jagged wayward piece of nail and flesh.  Instead, either call a specialist–i.e. me  : ) — or you tell the hangnail to eat shit.  Proceed to step two if you want to see the next sunrise.

2) KEEP THE FINGER WITH THE HANGNAIL IN YOUR POCKET OR POSSIBLY IN A MITTEN OR GLOVE.

This will ensure that when you’re discussing a plan of action that the hangnail will not hear you.  Hangnails are nosy by nature, so you have to be careful when talking around the hangnail.  The last thing you need is to get a solid plan together involving a garden rake or a brass pair of clippers only to have your plan go to shit because the hangnail heard you conspiring.  Hangnails are conniving bastards.  Don’t let them get the drop on you.

3) REFRAIN FROM LICKING OR BITING THE HANGNAIL.  ALSO, DO NOT BUY THE HANGNAIL EXPENSIVE JEWELRY, PERFUMES OR MOVE INTO AN APARTMENT WITH THE HANGNAIL.

This will only cause you to drop your guard.  Also it will make the hangnail wet and difficult to remove.  Hangnails, much like some women, will try to use their looks to deceive and trick you to get what they want.  (Women are also like hangnails for the following reasons: they both will detach from the skin if you bite or pick at them; they hurt when you get rid of them; they smell nice; there’s one out there for everyone–two if you’re lucky)  The hangnail may act all innocent and say, “hey, buddy…hows it going?  I don’t hurt that bad today.  Wanna lick me?  Hmm?  I’ll treat you right if ya give me a lickedy lick lick.”  Ignore the hangnail.   I’ve lost many friends and colleagues to a smooth-talking hangnails.  Don’t follow the same fate they did…

4) TAKE OUT A LIFE INSURANCE POLICY

7/10 times a hangnail removal will result in one or more deaths.  It’s a lousy number, but a realistic one.  You can never let your guard down with hangnails.

5) DRINK WHISKEY

…or any hard alcohol.  Moonshine or grain alcohol would be best.  The drunker you are, the better.  Once you’ve got a savage buzz going, start shouting at the hangnail.  Scream at the hangnail!!  Don’t forget to chug straight alcohol when you’re taking a break to think of new things to shout at the nail.  When you’re nearly blind drunk, commence your plan of action and begin hitting the hangnail with pots, pans or rolling pins (or anything near you).

6) DO NOT STICK YOUR HAND IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL!!!

At this point, you’re shit-faced on some form of illegal or unsafe alcohol.  Don’t forget that the hangnail is attached to your hand, which is attached to your body.  If you cannot feel your hand, then you are too drunk.  Pass out and start the steps over from the beginning.

7) BUY MY BOOK: JOE’S COMPLETE GUIDE TO TREATING HANGNAILS

Amazon has a great deal if you buy it before the end of the month!!!

I have to hand it to the Big Guy up stairs.  He really knows how to write a good story.  My life has it all: action, drama and comedy.  It’s like a summer blockbuster that stars an unknown lead, but has a handful of veterans to hold it together–despite the fact that the veterans are bitter about not landing the lead role and they ignore me on set, throw their garbage into my trailer and call me a “half-aborted ginger” between takes.  In fact, a few years ago a person that may or may not have been Bruce Willis told me that I rolled the worst sushi he’s ever had the misfortune of eating.  So even Bruce Willis (or a damn good lookalike) managed to finagle his way into my movie.  I’m kinda honored.

Anyway, I have a feeling that the first major plot point of my life is about to happen or may have recently just happened, so there’s a real powerful scene coming up.  Like any movie-goer that smuggles in his own food and leaves the garbage on the floor for the staff to pick up, I have my theories as to what may happen next in my life.  Singing alien clowns seems too predictable, so I’ve made a list of a few things that could be coming up.  Here are a few.

I Befriend a Talking Dog and Cat and Stop a Serial Killer

While Joe is walking through the forest, pondering his life and the man he is becoming, he stumbles upon a stray dog named Coach and a stray cat named Boots McBorlan (or Booty Mc B, as she prefers to be called).  Coach is a loaner, but found Booty Mc B to be the perfect companion.  Meanwhile, Boots McBorlan is a retired actress-cat that was looking for adventure when she met Coach.  She’s got a real sass-mouth, but is a sweeter than a Lemon Warhead.

Joe walks with the hairy, bickering couple and comes across a small mining town that is paralyzed with fear due to a string of recent murders.  Booty Mc B and I want to continue through town, but Coach smells something afoot.  We stay and get caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse–but luckily, that’s a game that’s right up Booty Mc B’s alley.  Eventually, we find the killer, a grizzled ex-cop that went crazy after being shot in the face while stopping Dairy Queen robbery, and corner him at a damn.  Instead of surrendering himself to our custody, he jumps off the dam, possibly being crushed on the rocks below…or…possibly living to reappear in Joe’s life at another plot point.

Final Scene:

Me: Well, that should wrap things up here.  I don’t think we’ll be seeing old Mr. Whilhelm again.

Coach: You’re a DAM good friend Joe.

Me: HAHAHAHAHA!!!  Ohhhhhhhhhh, Coach.  What will I ever do without you and Boots McBorlan?

Boots McBorlan: If you call me Boots McBorlan one more time, I’m going to shit in your fucking mouth!!!  Do you hear me, asshole!?!?!?.  CALL ME BOOTY MC B, DAMNIT!!!

Me: Booty Mc B, you so cwaaaaaaazyyyy.

Joe Meets the Girl of His Dreams but Finds Out She is a WereGator (Half Werewolf, Half Alligator)

Struggling to find a job and make end’s meet, Joe takes a job as a dock worker.  Surprisingly, there’s a cute girl that also works there named Samantha Doggins–but she’s tough like old meat and has the mouth of a smarmy hobo.  The two instantly hate each other.  Samantha hates Joe because his quick wit often embarrasses her in front of the other workers and he’s so educated.  Joe hates Samantha because she treats him like shit–oh and she also pushed him off the dock and into the water, nearly killing him, but luckily the lovable 60ish foreman jumped in and saved Joe’s life.

As the months fly by, the two learn they have more in common than it may seem.  Also, many of their co-workers are being found the morning of their shift horribly mangled and eaten.  Joe finally works up the courage to ask Samantha out on a date and the two realize that they’re perfect for each other.  But then Joe’s dog and best friend are found eaten and mangled shortly after this happens.

Eventually, Joe realizes that his girlfriend is a half werewolf half alligator that transforms every full moon to kill and feed on the blood of humans.  Joe figures that a soul mate is tough to come by and decides to ignore the fact that Samantha is technically a serial killer and a freak of nature.  It’s not meant to be, though.  The police soon discover her true identity and, after a daring car chase, corner her at the old mill and kill her with bullets made of George Washington’s bone marrow–the only known way to kill a weregator.

Final Scene:

Police Chief: I’m sorry, Joe, but…your girlfriend is dead.  We had to kill her.

Me: NooooOOoOOoooo!!!  I’m not sure if I’ll ever be the same again.  Please, officer, how did you kill her?  I didn’t think there was a way to stop a weregator.

Police Chief: We had to use bullets made from George Washington’s bone marrow.  You see, George Washington knew of the weregator all too well.  His wife was a weregator, Benjamin Franklin was a weregator, and John Adams was a weregator.

Me: Golly…really?

Police Chief: Yes.  He chopped off his left arm and used the bone marrow to make bullets and killed all three.  He replaced them with dummies made of pillows and feathers to fool the people, of course.  And on his death bed, he had his sons hurl him into a bone marrow extractor so more bullets could be made.  They’re stored in the Smithsonian and are used during extreme circumstances.

Me: Oh…well…I guess that explains that…

Joe Discovers a Human Skeleton in his Chimney Dressed in Santa Claus Garb.

Joe hires a professional chimney sweep to clean the chimney in his house.  After a few hours, the chimney sweep (who has a cockney accent, for no damn reason at all) pulls out a human skeleton dressed in Santa Claus clothes.

The police are called and they can’t determine if the remains are of Chris Kringle or just a derelict that tried breaking into the home many years ago.  The NSA is called and it’s determined that it’s in the world’s best interest never to let anyone know that Santa Claus may or may not be dead.  Joe is paid a handsome sum to keep his mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Joe loses all the money in a heads up poker game against George Foreman.

Final Scene:

George Foreman: I’ve got a straight flush, Joe.  What do you got?

Me: Ace high.  Shit, I’m not very good at Five Card Stud.  Can we start over and play Texas Hold ‘Em?

George Foreman: No, no we can’t, Joe.  You lost and I get all of your money.  Also, you didn’t have enough money to cover the final bet, so to make us square you have to legally change your name to George.

Me: Aw nuts…