Thursday, August 19, 2010

Late Night Whim Style appearance.

Here is my serious appearance on Late Night Whim Style. I hope to be a more regular guest, maybe adding some kind of Paul Harvey commentary. I know, I really need to do something more stylish with my hair.

Tommy on Late Night Whim Style

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Cat Food

So I took my wife to see Salt for her birthday date last night. Walmart afterward for cat food. Wait in the car honey, I can make it to the back of the store quickly. Walking into the foyer the greeter greets me, but he is holding some kind of weapon. It is a price gun! Block, block, punch, twist his arm, disarm him, price gun blow to the back of his head. He is out, keep moving, price gun thrown in trash recepticle.

As I walk by the little stand set up for sampling some new flavor of Triscuit crackers I recognize the hair-netted lady passing out the samples. She’s a Russian spy! Sir, vould you like to try zees new Treeescit? As I reach for a sample she throws the tray’s contents in my face. Gaaah! Triscuit in my eyes! I’m blind! Luckily Russian spies are notorious for their cheap perfume. The overwhelming stench of her Enjolie perfume makes her easy to track. She tries hitting me with the tray, I punch block it. It shatters. I feel for a piece of the tray on the floor and relieve her carotid artery of its pressure. One less Rusky, on to the cat food.

I walk by a squabbling family of North Koreans, I don’t know if they recognized me. The mom reaches into her purse and brings out an AK-47, yep, I’ve been made. Luckily the front site hung on the shoulder strap which bought me valuable seconds during which I forcefully placed the dad’s head inside a casaba melon from the produce department. Daughter thrown into the freezer section, next to the frozen peas. The mom finally got the AK out of her purse and released a hailstorm of lead. I dove for the men’s department and hid in the Troy University apparel thinking the clothing was mostly uninspiring, and it was, she lost me.

I made my way through the children’s section by way of belly crawl until I came across a pair of high heels. I looked up to see Evelyn Salt, who looks a lot like Angelina Jolie. She picked me up and kissed me, then stood back and laughed like a crazy woman. After a moment she had a worried look on her face, then she coughed and started foaming at the mouth. CIA issued chapstick is pretty much worthless for chapped lips but works wonders reversing lipstick based poison. I moved on.

I finally reached the cat food isle, just in time for a barrage of machine gun fire. I dove for the Wiskas Perfectly Fish, the one with the Tuna Entrée. He is such a spoiled cat.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Kevin Presley Returns

“Helen, it’s ten o’clock.  Put down those crocheting needles and come watch the news,” Martha said.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.  Ooh I’m so excited Kevin Presley is back with WDHN News 18, where Dothan’s First,” Helen said.

“Me too.  Sit down, I poured you some buttermilk with cornbread.”

“I would like to dip Kevin Presley in some buttermilk.”

“Helen!  I swanee.”

“Oh Martha you think he’s handsome too.”

“Hush up now, it’s coming on.”  Martha said.

Good evening and thank your for tuning to WDHN News, I’m Kevin Presley.  Dothan police are investigating a stolen…

“What in the Hades is this?”  Helen asked.

“What happened to his hair?”  Martha asked.  “It looks brown now, used to be black.”

“It was black.  Something else is different.  It could be the sideburns or he is trimming his hair too close on the sides.”

“Makes his head look too skinny.  Do you think his wife is feeding him enough?” 

“Well, sister, he could come over here and I would keep him fed.”  Helen said, holding back a coy smile.

“Helen, you’re terrible.  Hey, you dated Ken Curtis before he shipped off for the D-Day invasion.  Give him a call and find out what’s going on with KP’s hair.”

Helen called WDHN and asked for Ken Curtis.  After a few moments he picked up the phone.

"Ken…guess who…no, not that young bitty Jenna…it’s Helen Russo…fine and you…oh Ken I know you are…what….well I haven’t in a long time…I supposed I could just for you tiger…Oh Ken, you man you…say Ken, let me ask you a question…what happened to Kevin’s hair…what…no need to get testy Ken…no, I…Ken…Ken.  Martha I think he hung up on me.”  Helen said.

“He was always jealous of your boyfriends,” Martha added.

“Some people never change,” Helen pondered, “but some do.”  She closed her eyes and focused on Kevin Presley’s voice.  She imagined him with longer, blacker hair, his sideburns full and neatly styled, he was shirtless and riding a horse as he spoke of the local news, his chest hair flowing with a gentle summer breeze.