The Daily Dump

A place where everyone (me) is welcomed to express their opinions openly and honestly. I encourage free thinking, free wheeling, off-the-cuff banter and monetary donations.

Friday, November 4

Birthday Week, Part 4: Where I Scare The Crap Out Of Everyone In My Birthday Suit

I know I said I would be posting a picture of me in my birthday suit today. So it’s included at the end of the post. (The Girlfriend breaks into a cold sweat.)
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First off, I caught a lot of flack about my Brief History of Me post. My friends and family have all said, “How come you didn’t include this?” or “How could you not mention that!?” So I just want to make one thing clear: what I wrote in that post is not everything that has happened in my life. A lot of other stuff occurred. I’ve met more than the seven or eight people mentioned. Many more things happened. I mean, I was a heroin addict for four years!

Not really, but you get my point. Please don’t think I meant it to be my autobiography. It wasn’t. My actual autobiography (This Goes A Lot Quicker If You Don't Fight Back: The Life of Daniel Murphy) should be in stores by the end of the month.

I also caught some flak for making fun of giving stars as gifts, mostly due to the fact that I’ve given stars as gifts in the past . . . a few times. Actually, let’s just say that if I had had better foresight, I could have bought all the stars in the same vicinity of the night sky and could now have my own constellation named “Ex-Girlfriends.” Is this “the pot calling the kettle black?” I don’t know, because I don’t know what that saying means. But I’m just letting you know that I’ve seen the error of my ways. Now when I’m not sure what to buy a girl, I give her cash. Or nude photos of me. But the internet has made that an increasingly risky move.
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I also have to get this out of the way. I hate watching “The Apprentice.” Or I hate that I continually watch this show. But I do, and these moments are the reason why:

(In the boardroom.)

The Donald: (in Donald voice) “Did everyone know [that Brian was gay]? Cause I didn’t know.” (To Brian.) “So you don’t find Alla attractive? You don’t find Felisha attractive?”

Brian: (confused) “They’re beautiful women, but they’re not my thing.”

The Donald: (with Donald hand gestures) “That’s why they have menus in restaurants. I like steak, somebody else likes spaghetti. That’s why they have menus in restaurants. It’s a great world.”

(five minutes later)

Donald: (to Adam, the youngest contestant on the show) “Right now, you don’t feel comfortable with sex. You will. Someday, you will. It’s gotten me into a lot of trouble. It’s cost me a lot of money. Do you understand that?

Adam: (so visibly awkward) “Yes Sir, I do understand.”

Donald: “You’ll probably be there. In many respects I hope you are.” (wistful pause) “Because there’s nothing like it. OK . . . Alright.” (Donald openly strokes his erection.)
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So it’s the last installment of the birthday week series. From here I’m making the leap to “It’s downhill to 30!” Being an adult; not tracking time by the number of years since graduating college; stretching before and after I play sports; buying porn instead of downloading it from the internet; being the man I never thought I could always be. That’s right, this coming Monday, the next time you read me, I’ll be 26. Unless of course something funny happens in the bathroom over the weekend and I feel the need to share it. Because some things don’t change.
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This just in: No way I can leave out this email I just received from The Girlfriend.

“THIS WAS MY NIGHT?

So I go to bed last night around 11:15. At 2:45 am, I wake up when I hear something being dragged across my floor, starting in the kitchen and slowly progressing to the bedroom. I wake up in a daze thinking two things:

1. What kind of cockroach is carrying off my TV remote? (Because that’s what it sounded like – a TV remote being dragged across the floor.)

2. I’m awake at 2:45 am, should I have a snack?

When I finally come to and put on my glasses and turn on my light, I see a MOUSE carrying a TRISCUIT. A WHOLE IN-TACT TRISCUIT. And apparently, the hairdryer wire on my floor is posing a barrier and the triscuit is caught. The mouse just looks at me as if to say, can you give me a hand here? I stare at it for a while.

FLASHBACK to one week ago when you, honey oh my darling, overturned a box of triscuits and then, after picking them up, ensured me that you got them all. GOD I LOVE YOU.

So I start to think of plans. At first I think – trap it in a pot, but I know that won’t work. Then I think, spray it with something toxic. The items that come to mind are:

1. Pam cooking spray

2. ironing starch

3. Clorox multi-purpose cleaner with bleach

Sadly, these are the only things I have in my apartment that spray. Obviously #3 was the best choice. By this time, mouse and triscuit have made their way through the hairdryer wires, behind your duffel of clothes, under the bed and to the heater under the window. Then SILENCE. So I get the Clorox and go to the heater, ready to poison it with clean. After dousing the area, I noticed that the mouse had escaped but the triscuit, too big to fit down the pipe, was lodged in the hole. SILENCE. Then I hear the mouse EATING AWAY AT THE BOTTOM END OF THE TRISCUIT. The only option was removal of the triscuit, but I wasn’t about to touch anything with my bare hands. I thought – kitchen tongs, but quickly realized I don’t own any. The only thing I could come up with was scissors, so I got my scissors and used them in a pincer like fashion to remove the triscuit and dispose of it. I also threw away the scissors for good measure. After pouring some more bleach down the pipe hole, I went to bed, sleeping with my glasses and the light ON.”

For the record, she did NOT sign this email “With love . . .”
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And finally, me in my birthday suit (God, this is so embarrassing . . .)



(Note: Doing a Google search for “naked baby” I quickly realized two things: 1. Only white people put pictures of their naked babies on the internet; and, 2. if anyone ever saw my search history I would be fired and quite possibly prosecuted.)

23 Comments:

Your friends and family gave you crap for not posting certain stuff?

There has never been a more hardy endorsement for having an anonymous blog. Oh, except for all those people that got fired for their blogs.

By Blogger Dirk the Feeble, at 1:40 PM  

The girlfriend's story is my worst nightmare. Anytime I hear anything in my apartment, I think it's a mouse. If I were her I'd have to move. You owe her. big time.

By Blogger Lizzie, at 2:00 PM  

TG totally stole the format of my Asian Flying Cockroach Battle. Which I can not believe you never used in your post. Now that I am mad about.

By Blogger de Kooning's Spleen, at 2:15 PM  

That's a good point, I don't know why I never spoke of that here. Oh wait, I remember why. Because that story TERRIFIED ME TO MY VERY SOUL! You live in a jungle, man. And it's called Brooklyn.

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 2:23 PM  

Well i guess the rats don't fall too far from the tree. I can rent out jorge if you like. Tell TG he gets 50 bucks an hour and a can of Tuna.

By Blogger de Kooning's Spleen, at 2:29 PM  

You're scaring the crap out of me with the image of "Everyone in [your] Birthday Suit."

And you called yourself and English Major...

By Blogger Belligerent Sister, at 2:40 PM  

Random #3...

-r.a.

P.S. (((Big Hugs))) Happy B-day silly!

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 2:59 PM  

Happy Birthday! I can't believe she was as calm as she was dealing with the mouse. I would've been screaming and probably crying.

By Blogger Julie_Gong, at 3:14 PM  

Mmm... Triscuits... how can you blame the mouse for dragging away such a delicious snack cracker? Think of all the fantastic snack combinations one can make with them. But I guess they don't advertise on the box for the "bleach spray" topping...

By Blogger mysterygirl!, at 3:44 PM  

well, you looked oddly like me as a baby! (i'm asian)

i'll make sure to ask my BF for cash as a present!

you're lucky she didn't sign the email, "with hate"!

By Blogger Sub Girl, at 3:51 PM  

Julie Gong? Are you like Donna Chang?

By Blogger [Disgrundled], at 3:52 PM  

Problem solved. This holiday season you wont have to buy her a crappy star or comb the interet looking at gay porn for some guy that resembles you to print and frame. Instead you can go with the obvious~ a gift pack of mouse traps, a box of triscuts and a pair of tongs.

By Blogger Fidget, at 4:06 PM  

I would like to say for the record that if such scenes occurred on The Apprentice as detailed here, that I would watch. Religiously.

And that mouse is dumb. He should have gone for something like a Twinkie. That's worth getting bleached for.

By Blogger green_canary, at 4:40 PM  

Most toxic spray ever = Easy Off Oven Cleaner. I carry it in my purse now instead of mace.

By Blogger Cupcake, at 5:29 PM  

Where is that picture from?

A baby bathhouse?

By Blogger justin, at 6:10 PM  

Your girlfriend may be my new favorite person.

(Cupcake is a wise, wise woman.)

By Blogger RetroDragon, at 7:30 PM  

dude, you look like riki tiki tembo no sa rembo chari bari ruchi pip peri pembo.

i hope you know who I'm talking about.

By Blogger The Assimilated Negro, at 8:05 PM  

Stumbled upon you tonight, and loved what i've read so far. i'll be back!

By Anonymous abigailroad, at 1:45 AM  

(sigh) I was about to openly attack your machismo and then just remembered that I have killed spiders with hairspray.

It was probably a very slow, painful death for them. But they looked fabulous.

By Blogger AJ Gentile, at 2:20 AM  

*laughing over the Assimilated Negro's post*

By Blogger green_canary, at 11:52 AM  

Man, if only I could get through one week of my life without hearing Riki Tiki Tembo or Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.

Happy Birthday.

By Blogger Rabbit, at 10:00 PM  

Happy Birthday!

Why do those programmes like The Apprentice suck you into watching? Do you think it's because they show people at their worst? (eg Omerosa and that other chick that went insane last season). Or are we looking for excuses to use at our next work meeting? (No John, I wasn't in charge of Marketing. I am the Marketing Manager, but no I wasn't in charge of Marketing).

Is that a mini Geisha? I see no peepee. Are you an Asian lesbian posing as a straight guy? Good going - you had me fooled.

Happy Birthday again. Don't worry - the other side of 30 ain't so bad (in fact it's quite naughty). :P

By Blogger Kate, at 11:48 PM  

In some ancient traditions, it is a sign of manhood for a young man to stand guide all night on his birthday at the abode of his beloved, until he stomps the sacrificial mouse with a shoe.

By Blogger Neil, at 10:10 AM  

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