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6:02 a.m. - 2006-12-05



Looking for an AWESOME Christmas present for friends or family?

Look to the right of this page ... see that little book that says "Never Threaten To Eat Your Co-Workers"?

See how much it costs?

61 cents.

That's right ... for less than half the price of a Diet Dr. Pepper at your local convenience store, you can own a copy of a book that uses one of my entries here as its cornerstone as well as the writings of dozens of other talented and influential bloggers.

Sixty-one fucking cents.

Holy shit ... is that embarrassing.

I am soooo freakin' busy this month.

One month ago I had one party lined up for December ... a wedding on December 30th.

Now I have 14 parties lined up for the month.

The easiest party and probably best one was this past Saturday ... a 13 year-old boy's birthday party.

Now ... 13 year-olds ... while they like music ... getting the boys to dance is like getting Britney Spears to wear panties.

It ain't happenin'.

So the mother of the kid comes up to me about 30 minutes into the party.

"Why aren't they dancing?" she's practically shrieking. "They should be dancing!"

I explained that while the girls would get out there, practice a few bump and grinds they'd seen on MTV2 and then go back to socializing while the music blared ... the boys were going to sit and stare at the girls for the duration of the night. I had never seen anything different that would make me think differently about the situation.

The mother then says "Well, do what you can to get them on the dance floor."


So I stop the music and say that we're going to have a little experiment.

I need everyone on the dance floor in a big circle. No music will be played until EVERYONE is on the dance floor.

The boys very cautiously leave their corner of the room and get on the dance floor.

Now ... I need everyone to take their right foot and put it in the circle.

Take it out.

Put it back in the circle.

And now ... very carefully ... shake it all about.

I then hit the music which was cued up to "You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around ... that's what it's all about."

Most of the kids joined in.

99% of the kids joined in.

One kid who was just too fucking cool to do the Hokey Pokey stood there with his arms folded, disgusted with what he was watching.

I stopped the music.

"It seems we have one gentleman here who doesn't know the Hokey Pokey," I said. "My friend in the green shirt ... is there a problem?"

The kid stared DAGGERS at me. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

"Hmmm?? No problem? Well then maybe we need to put you in the MIDDLE of the big circle and you can learn the Hokey Pokey from in there!"

I was just having fun.


I didn't mean anything by it.

The kid stared at me with a scowl on his face and SLOOOOWLY shook his head "no".

This kid was threatening me silently.

And he couldn't have been five feet tall.

I started the music back up, the kids all did the Hokey Pokey ... except for Scowler who just kept slowly shaking his head at me like he was seething with rage.

I laughed and pointed at him.

Which ... in hindsight ... probably didn't do much for his fragile little 13 year-old ego.

At the end of the night I was packing my stuff up and loading it in the van when two kids came up to "give me props" and high five me for a good job.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I've been paid and now I'm trying to get the hell outta here. Ain't got no time for high fives, kids.

I high fived 'em and then one said "Hey, are you on the radio?"

Not the dumbest of questions, but I figured it was dumb enough to give it a dumb answer.

"Yeah," I said. "But I can't tell you which station."

"Is it Y-105?" the kid asked.

"Yeah," I said. "You got me."

"What's your name?!?" the kids began shouting.


"I can't tell you that," I said.

"Are you Joey Dee?" one kid asked.

"Nope," I said.

"Are you Scott Stanley?", another kid asked.

"Yep," I said. "You figured it out."

"OHMIGOD!!!" the kids screamed. "SCOTT STANLEY!!!"

The kids then regaled me with stories on how they always try to call and make requests during "my" show and I never answer the phone.

"Well, we get pretty busy around the station," I lied.

"I'm calling you tomorrow!" one kid said. "PLEEEEASE answer the phones tomorrow!"

"I'll try," I said. "Remember to tell me that you were at Tyler's birthday party to refresh my memory."

"Okay!" the kid yelled. "I'm Benjie. I'll tell you I was at Tyler's birthday party and we can talk."

"Sounds good," I said as I slammed the van door and excused myself into the night.


So on Sunday, Scott Stanley got a call from an excited little kid saying he met him at Benjie's birthday party and wanted to gab.

And poor Scott Stanley ... whoever he is ... had no idea what the hell was going on.

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Have you read these?

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Buck Up Junior, You Could Be Digging Ditches - 11:36 p.m. , 2008-10-31

That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

Return Of The Karate Kid And His Slow Kitty-Lovin' Accomplice - 5:44 a.m. , 2008-10-22

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