Nurse the Hate: Hate the Penny Jar

I was minding my own business the other day knocking back the obscenely priced Great Lakes Xmas Ale at a local pub ($10.99 a six pack retail) when I saw a true blast from the past. You know when you see someone years later from when you saw them last and they look like an Elvis Impersonator of themselves? The woman in question looked like she did in the mid 1990s except for the classic United States signs of female aging. These tell tale signs include A) hair that has been cut back from a previous wild length to the short asexual “mom cut”, B) an hourglass shape that has morphed more into a Mickey’s Bigmouth barrel, and C) the denim sweat pant type of Mom jean. These jeans may or may not have included an “elastic comfort panel” in the front of the pant.

The last time I had previously seen her I was standing around with a bunch of fellow douche bag media sales guys. We were probably drinking 30oz Bud Light drafts on trade from our respective radio stations. It was one of those events where a bunch of competing stations get together and lie to each other about how great things are going. “Hey!!! How’s it going over there at WFUK? Super!!!! Me too!!!! I‘m up 34% over last year! Kicking ass and taking names!” This is always the conversation even if you know for a fact they are hanging onto their jobs by their ball hairs and are getting their ass chewed out every 17 minutes by their boss that fancies himself as the low rent Midwestern Gordon Gekko.

So there I am (listening to someone tell me how GREAT they are) when one of them nudges me and says, “Hey, you know Penny over there?”. Now I know for a fact that this woman’s name is, let’s say, Mary. So I say, “Isn’t her name Mary?”…

As I get another 30oz draft and hope our tab hasn’t run out, he says “My buddy hooked up with her about six years ago at the Xmas party. They both live in Akron right? So he gives her a ride home back to her place. She’s got this shity little apartment, and they spend about 10 minutes looking at her etchings or whatever the fuck they were doing, and then they start going at it. The room is like fifteen feet by ten feet, so they fall onto her bed. She’s got this bed with one of those old style headboards, and it’s really rocking around. They are both so into it, neither one of them noticed that the jar she keeps her pennies in is almost falling off the edge of the headboard. Suddenly the jar falls off and bonks her in the head and she cries out. He starts laughing, cause you gotta admit, it’s funny, right? But she gets pissed and makes him get dressed and leave. Ever since then, we’ve called her Penny.”

True story.

Random Notes: I loved the Browns on Monday, and they took care of me with a winner. They are a really great underdog this year, but a horrible favorite. Don’t be surprised if the Texans kick the crap out of them this weekend with Rosenfels throwing for about 350 yards…I have had a few terrific wines lately. Check out a cheap little Australian shiraz called Mr. Riggs (about $15), the Hullaballoo Zin from Napa (about $25), and the 2006 Turley Dusi Ranch ($35). These are all full throttle big as kicking reds. Anyone of them will be a perfect wine for Turkey Day…Speaking of Turkey Day, who’s got the cajones to drop some dough on the Lions in the early game? Not me, and I haven’t even seen the number. I’m betting the over/under on that one…An actual copy of Guns N Roses “Chinese Democracy” is in my house right now. I haven’t listened to it yet. However, I’m sure it was well worth the 15 year wait, and will justify all those years of fucking around in the studio…A few friends of mine did a blind taste test with Pabst, Busch, and Miller High Life. Busch was the overwhelming winner (8 of 9 people), and High Life was the overwhelming loser (7 of 9 people). Who knew?