I Had To Fire My Butler Today

 

It was a sad day for me because I was forced to fire my butler this morning. I’ve been hearing all about this “recession” on the news lately, but it didn’t really hit home until now.

I held out as long as I could, but it had to be done. I couldn’t do it in person though. It would have been too painful. So I ended up writing him a letter explaining that I was firing him. I also explained how he could save a bunch of money on his diabetic testing supplies from Liberty Medical. I thought it would soften the blow.

Wait, scratch that. I didn’t explain that to him. Wilford Brimley explained that to me. I guess I got a little confused. Cut me a break here. A guy doesn’t fire his butler every day you know.

Anyway, I wanted to send the letter through the post office, but I couldn’t afford any stamps so instead I just rolled it up, put it inside a bottle of Miller Lite, and threw it into the ocean.

In hindsight, I probably should have drank the MIller Lite first, but I don’t want to second guess myself too much here. Also, he doesn’t live near the ocean and is afraid of water. But now I’m just nitpicking.

I really hope that he finds the letter before coming into work tomorrow afternoon. Otherwise things could get a little awkward. 

At least he won’t be able to get into my house though. I will never answer my own door. Too proud to do it. 

I plan to gut my way through the recession. Don’t you worry about me. I’ve already transformed my robotic vacuum cleaner into a makeshift butler. It’s amazing what a classy sportcoat can do for a household appliance. 

It doesn’t deal with corners as well as the old butler did, but on the other hand it doesn’t complain as much when I kick it. It’s a mixed bag.

Also, I save money by not having to pay for its health insurance. Although I have heard the toaster whispering about forming a union.

Your Plane Has Crash-Landed In The Icy Andes Mountains. The Only Survivors Are You & Mr. Peanut.

 

Mr PeanutRescuers will probably come for you, but it could be a while. Now don’t panic, but you’ve obviously got an “Alive” situation on your hands here. Luckily for you, your fellow survivor is one of America’s favorite salted snacks.

You’re going to need Mr. Peanut around, at least at first, to help out with setting up camp. And you’ll probably want him to teach you how to start a fire using a monocle as well. But make no mistake, eventually you’re going to have to eat the guy.

Here are a few things to keep in mind:

1) He knows you’re going to try to eat him. And he’s going to be kind of pissy about it.

If you’re wondering why he snapped at you about gathering that firewood, here’s your answer. It’s not really about the firewood, it’s more about how you’re days away from cracking his shell to get at that delicious, high-protein peanut goodness.

To counteract this, take an interest in something he enjoys talking about. Maybe you could ask how his stocks are doing. With that stylish monocle and fancy cane, you can bet that he’s an upper-middle class peanut.

2) Get that cane away from him as soon as possible. And beware the top hat.

You don’t want to be at the business end of Mr. Peanut’s cane. And both ends of Mr Peanut’s cane are the business end. Trained in martial arts at a young age — when he briefly considered a career in Chinese food — that cane is a deadly weapon. You’ll need to get creative if you want him to part with it.

Try breaking one of your legs and ask to use it to keep yourself upright. Or develop a “Survival Plan” Powerpoint presentation and subtly hint that you could use some kind of pointer for emphasis.

Mr. Peanut’s top hat is a wildcard and you’ll want to get rid of it as soon as possible. No one knows what’s under there. Some say it’s a Colt 45 pistol. Others say it’s the first two seasons of Blossom on DVD. Either way, you don’t want to be caught off guard. I suggest accidently starting it on fire.

3) Don’t wait too long to make your move.

This one is pretty basic, but a lot of people forget about it. If you wait too long, you run the risk of Mr. Peanut, your buddy/meal, catching Salmonella. And if there’s anything worse than explosive diarrhea, it’s explosive diarrhea on a glacier.

Follow these simple tips and you’ll survive this adversity without coming off like a complete jerk.

The Secret World Of Old People At Burger King

 

oldtophatguy I went to Burger King for breakfast this morning and there were a surprising number of old people loitering in the dining area. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Also, I didn’t think much of it later. But there was a good 35-minute window where I thought about it a moderate amount.

My thoughts:

1) There sure are a lot of old people here.
And the weird thing is that none of them moved the whole time I was there. It was like I was standing in a wax museum, except that I wasn’t completely bored.

2) Why is that old guy staring at me?
Turns out he was dead. I don’t care what anyone says, it’s still rude.

3) How is it possible that they all have their own copy of the newspaper?
This one is on me. I just recently became aware of an invention called the “printing press”. I initially thought that each newspaper had to be handwritten by newspaper elves or minorities. My congratulations to Johannes Gutenberg on that printing press idea. It’s no cotton gin, but it’s still pretty solid. Also… Eli Whitney rules! He rules all other inventors! Suck on it Edison!

Note: My apologies to my loyal reader(s), but my computer was recently hacked by Eli Whitney’s great-great grandson.


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