During this holiday season if you find yourself about to blow a gasket on someone, instead of unleashing a diatribe of curse words and obscene finger gestures, consider calling them a butthole. I am bringing butthole back baby! Honestly, it’ll make you feel better. When you call someone a butthole, I think it does two things. First, it conveys that you think the person is a jerk or what they did was jerky. However, its tone communicates that you do not wish them to die. Secondly, calling someone a butthole may actually assist in calming the jerk down. Lets be honest, if you get called a butthole, at least some level of your subconscience will return to your childhood playground days. Instead of punching the person in the noggin, you’ll either cry, stomp off, or laugh. This is all part of my five year plan to clean up America’s collective mouth. This year its “butthole”, next year its “stupid head” or “doo-doo head”.
I think I am basically the same person I was in 9th grade. Is that weird? If it is then I will accept being a weirdo. The photo to the left was taken at my 9th grade formal many many years ago. I have to admit that this is one of my all time favorite pictures. I’ll go ahead and tell you that I am the one with the top hat and cane (I can’t understand why my date didn’t want to be in the picture - hiya Anna Generoso :)). What makes this photo special? Well, for one, my buddy Jack is in it. I don’t get to talk to Jack that often anymore but from junior high through college we pretty much hung out all the time. The best thing about Jack was that he never let the potential consequences of anything we did get in the way of fun (too many examples to list). I think any of Jack’s friends will attest to that. I also know that if I needed a favor I could call Jack and he’d be there. In the second row, farthest to the right is Zane. Zane used to give me a ride to and from school in a hideous brown Toyota station wagon (Hey, its the truth, it was butt ugly. But I couldn’t drive so you better believe I was jealous). He was an artist, could pick the ole six string, and was a skate boarding daredevil (was it off Valley Forge Dr. where you cracked your skull open?). Julie is standing to the left of Zane. In 9th grade I took hyper to a new level. Julie was the anti-me. She was cool as a cucumber and not too hard on the eyes. Joel and Kevin are to the left of Julie. Joel shaved his eyebrows off in ninth grade for fun and Kevin brought a remote controlled fart machine to our 10 year class reunion. That pretty much makes them all stars in my book. Finally, farthest to the left is a chick named Anne. She was my favorite. I married her.
