A PLAN TO CONCEAL MY FRUGALITY

Ah did a bad, bad thing.

I not only ordered that "Twin Peaks" box set off of Amazon, but I also bought the DVD of the pilot of the show from Ebay.

All total, I've spent about $75 on a TV show.

My wife is going to shit the proverbial brick when she finds out.

But I have a plan, see?

I think I can smuggle the Ebay DVD in the house. That's not a problem.

But the box set is supposed to be here while we're out of town next week. Which means we'll come back to town, all of our mail will be on the kitchen table courtesy of our Nosy Assed Neighbor(TM) and a big cardboard box is probably going to stand out a bit.

So here's what I'm going to do.

I'm going to convince her that I'm dying.

I didn't want to say anything, but I've got encephalitis. Inflammation of the brain.

Of course, she'll be devastated and naturally so. She'll want to know when I found out, what kind of treatments I can undergo, blah blah blah.

Meanwhile, I'll just act like I'm too distraught to talk about it, but maybe if I watch a few episodes of "Twin Peaks" back to back, I'll get over it.

Surely, she'll be all like "Oh yes honey, you watch your TV. I'll just sit here in the corner and stare at you with tears in my eyes and remember all the good times we had before you started shitting yourself and smearing feces on the walls."

And see? That way I'll not only get to watch my show, but she won't yell at me because I could always say I was bonkers when I ordered it. I mean seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?

Heh.

Y'see?

I'm smarter than I act sometimes.

So anyway, I've gotta send a money order to Hong Kong to get the pilot of the TV show.

The girl's name is Jing Jung Jong.

I assume it's a girl. It could be a guy. But who the hell would saddle a little boy with the name Jing Jung?

Get real.

The Post Office wouldn't give me a money order for Hong Kong. They said their money orders are only good in America, not in Hong Kong.

I said "Yeah, but it's Jing Jung Jong in Hong Kong!"

You know what?

They couldn't care less.

So I had to go to the grocery store to get an international money order.

So Jing Jung Jong had better appreciate what I've done for her/him.

Sadly, I doubt the Jinger even cares.

Susie has to go Christmas shopping tonight but she's being very vague about what it is she's buying.

I'm thinking two things. She's either buying me something or she's buying something for her favorite johns from her crack whore job.

I want to let her know that she doesn't need to buy me anything since I spent $75 on DVDs today. But if she's buying for her johns then I've just outed myself and will have to slap that whole encephalitis plan together off the cuff.

I told her I'd go with her to do the shopping and she said "You have to stay home and watch Survivor."

This is true. But damned if her reluctance to take me along hasn't got my curiosity up.

We said that the digital camera was all we were going to get for ourselves. And yeah..."Andrew" bought her a nice picture frame. But that's not from me, that's from her boy.

And I've already got the "Traffic" DVD for myself.

If she IS buying me something then she'd better either be buying me some Crest White Strips so I can have blindingly bleached white choppers or a diabetic cookbook.

Anything other than that and I'm pretty sure I'll toss it straight at her face on Christmas morn and call her a Jing Jung Jong.

I'll keep you posted on the subject.

Ten more hours.

Eleven days off.

My groin is tingling.

My electric razor finally gave out on me this morning.

I've had the same razor since 1986. We've had some good times, me and this razor.

I remember back in 1986 when I first bought it, I thought it'd be cool to shave and sculpt my 1980's sideburns. I was right. They looked awesome.

Then again in 1991, I used the razor to shave a Tic-Tac-Toe board on my right calf while in the throes of a drunken stupor.

Funny thing about that was...it never grew back. To this day, if I'm bored, I cross my legs and play Tic-Tac-Toe against myself.

Then in 1998, I thought my razor was dying. It was sputtering and barely able to function. I got down on my knees and begged God for my razor's forgiveness. I was instructed by God to unplug and then plug the razor back into the socket. I did that and it cranked up without a problem.

Miracles never cease around my razor.

But today, there was no sputtering or jamming. Just pure silence.

I said goodbye to my razor and thanked it for 15 years of service. I tried to pin a little "15 years of taking care of the same stupid face" ribbon on it, but it's kinda tough to pin a ribbon on an electric razor.

I tried flushing it down the toilet as a way to get rid of it, but all that did is set me back $120 for a plumber to come out and call me a dumbass in front of my wife and son.

Awww hell. It's weekly meeting time. I've gotta go pretend like I'm really serious about getting things done before Christmas vacation.

This should be fun.