The Daily Derenger

12/27/2002

It's after 3a.m. and I'm ready for bed. But not before a Daily Derenger for you DD fans.

Let's see, I'm still without my computer, although my sister's machine is doing the job nicely. But there's got to be more to write than that sorry old shit.

I just had a tall glass of chocolate milk. I was craving a Coke or at least some Kool-aid. None to be found. I was simply going to have some milk until I chanced there being some chocolate syrup in the cupboard. Sho' nuff! It reminded me of grade school when a carton of chocolate milk was $.15. Then when I got up to like 5th grade and threw out $.30 for two, I had all but made it to junior high.

Sometimes a few of us good, wholesome catholic school boys would buy an extra milk to sneak onto the playground. We'd do little in terms of playing with the milk though. Instead, we'd take the milk, shake it profusely and launch it down onto unsuspecting rooftops of cars and houses.

Looking back on it, even now that would be fun. It would surely beat faking an injury sustained from a valiant dive at an impossible blacktop touchdown just so Mary Jane would come over to see if I was okay. Those were the days.

Now my stomach hurts from drinking the chocolate milk too fast. And the scar from the gravel seems all too fresh. I'm off to go puke in my bed. And then think about what might've been with Mary Jane had I caught the damn ball.

12/25/2002

A belated Merry Christmas!!!

I'm going to make this Daily Derenger short and sweet and leave the in-depth account of my Christmas events for the journal. Because my Xmas was quite worthy of a lengthy journal entry, it may take a while to get posted. I'm still awaiting for my trusty lil' laptop to come back to me. It's currently on a weekend get-away with Best Buy's technicians

I stopped by my best friend Monica's parents' house on Xmas day. Monica and I have visited with each other's families for about the last 14 years and feel right at home in doing so. Monica's now married to a great guy named Jim and with my travel schedule, we've seen one another much less often that we'd like.

Every holiday her mother makes something called monkey bread - a gooey bread made with chopped nuts, cinnamon, and sugar served hot. I fell in love with it when I was around 18 or so. When I got there today, it was still warm and made for a truly deliectible pre-Xmas dinner snack.

As we were sitting around and catching up, Monica's aunt talked about some friends of theirs with weird names. One was an Uncle Jerry Kapinus. Yes, pronounced exactly like that. Another friend married into a family of Eastern-Eurpopean decent and the grandmother's first name was Gohsa (GO-sah). Now, if the grandma married the uncle, her new name would be Gohsa Kapinus. HILARIOUS to the enth degree.

If that isn't one of the funniest "what ifs" of all time, then call me crazy. And let me be thankful that I have a far less different and non-phallic last name.