It’s Bubbe’s Berfday

July 1, 2019July 2, 2019 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 2 Comments

It’s a holiday kids! I don’t mean Tito Puente eating paste al dente or the one that starts with sparklers and ends with a bang: It’s Bubbe’s Berf Day!

Unlike a parent that can’t admit that he likes one of his kids more than the others – I wanna wish a very Happy Birthday to my Number One fan: Bubbe!

There are so many reasons she’s awesome – but isn’t the fact that she loves this site more than life itself reason enough! She’s obviously smart, funny, and has great taste!

While other peeps frown on all things piling up on the outer regions of the “internets,” she’s blazing a trail and making her way to bring happiness to the masses!

Me and Bubbe making cream puffs!

Also, did I mention her cream puffs? Obviously that isn’t meant as dirty as it sounds, but homegirl can cook too!

We might just do a Vlog with us cooking up some treats one day which is sure to wow the masses! We’re a match made in heaven: she’s sweet, witty, and caring and I’m just funny to look at!

Please google “Annie smack that Fannie” right now!

In all seriousness, one moment doesn’t define someone’s lifetime, but for all intents and purposes – Bubbe literally broke the mold when she hatched Annie-Smack-That-Fannie! Yes folks, the awesomeness carried over when she birthed the holiest of all pigeon-pooping-people and has raised a smart, funny, caring, Immodiumabuser obsessed woman in her image! Take it from me when I say that the internet is forever grateful for that and one only needs to google “Annie smack that Fannie” to see why!

The apple didn’t fall far from the tree…and the poop didn’t fall far from the pigeon!

For all these and many more reasons – I celebrate you today and always! You’re truly a special lady and I hope you have a great day!

Also, did I mention those cream puffs?

And for your birthday – here’s a shot of me and Darryl Strawberry, right before our dance off.

Ok one more. Here’s one of me and Hal Prince to make you feel young again – you look like a teen next to him!

He’s 91 years old and has ten times the energy I do!

Bicentennial Post (that means 200!) Celebrating my Independence Day from Sanity!

July 5, 2018July 5, 2018 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 4 Comments

I can’t believe this is my 200th post! That’s a huge milestone so I wanted to pause from our regularly scheduled program to take a moment and celebrate you by doing something a little different. This is for every one of you reading this site and liking and sharing and commenting and laughing and sometimes rolling your eyes and emailing me with genuine concern that something is definitely wrong with me.

I won’t drown you with a bunch of numbers because I don’t like to fixate on them, but 200 posts is nothing to sneeze at! 51,000 visitors are in the rear view mirror and by this time next week, 100,000 total views will be as well! Whether you’ve stumbled onto this site for the first time or you’re one of my 12,576 regular followers – this post is in honor of you! In the spirit of doing things different – I’m gonna pull back the curtain and spill it like the little Yenta I am to answer some of the big Immodium Abuser mysteries that surely have been keeping you up at night.

The top question that people ask me:
Believe it or not, the thing most people ask me isn’t “did your sister really shit on that cat?” but “When your sister shit on that cat – was that cat’s name really Pretty?” Yes, Pretty was the cat’s name, but take that in for a moment. No one finds it odd or is put off by the fact that my sister actually shit all over a poor little kitty, but the crazy part is the fact that the cat was named Pretty! Also, the follow up question 99 times out of 100 is always “was it only one time?” It’s not as if she’s a mad bomber who’s lost the ability to clench or has such precise torpedo aim that the feline community quakes in their furry boots as she walks by. As far as I know, it isn’t a party trick she does when people gather…Of course it only happened once, but really – I should never say never about a repeat performance so let’s keep those cats locked away just in case.

After my sister’s literal “Shit Storm,” Pretty was never the same.

This year, I actually pulled the best April Fool’s Day prank on her (obviously, I mean my sister, not Pretty) when I created a meme with her face and the words “if you see this woman – hide your cats!” I woke her up early that morning and lied to her that I posted the meme on Twitter and hundreds of people had already liked it! Needless to say, she flipped the flip out! I was laughing so hard that I couldn’t even tell her it was all just a joke. Obviously she has forbid me from sharing the un-edited meme here – which I think is a selfish mistake on her part – but I’ll throw her a bone! Once she saw the edited meme, she was actually more irritated than she was at the original version. She probably got crazy because I said her edited photo reminded me exactly of Robert Downey Jr. in the movie Fur, which understandably – isn’t exactly a compliment, but also isn’t too off base either…

Do I really take that much Imodium:

Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes I do and I cannot function or commute without it! I just ordered eight 48 packs to be set for July 4th and the site wouldn’t let me order more than four packs so I had to use a different name for the second order. Ridiculous, right? And also, please stop emailing and tweeting me asking if I’m using it to get high. I only wish I could get high and not shit in public from it, but alas, no psychedelic reactions to the AD – yet… Also, the post about Imodium AD actually trying to stage an intervention with me is still the most popular post by many THOUSANDS of views more than anything else I’ve ever written. More than when I was Mistaken for a Retarded Person TWICE in less than a half hour, more than My Famous Baby Jesus Story, and more than any celebrity stalking I’ve ever done.

When my wife asked if I was packed for our long weekend away…here’s my weekend stash!

Did the Pope see it when the bird shit on your friend:

I think that The Pope is everywhere and anywhere so a little part of me would like to believe that he did see the drive-by pooping, even though I know that priceless memory is only between me, Annie-Smack-That-Fannie, and that pigeon’s anus. Just for fun, let’s get that phrase “that pigeon’s anus” trending on Twitter! Fun fact, Annie-Smack-That-Fannie is the only non-celebrity that has had the honor of having their face shown on this site. She proudly wears that badge of honor and will fist fight to defend it, but seriously, if anyone gets shit on in front of me – I’m posting your picture too! Her mother Bubbe is not one to be outdone, so we’ve been kvetching about making our own video so she can show me and everyone else her secret cream puff recipe. Yes I know that sounds really dirty and inappropriate, but there’s nothing dirty or inappropriate about cream puffs if they’re made right. We’ve yet to work out the logistics, but something tells me Fannie might show up rocking her Purple Housecoat and try to sabotage or photobomb our video. More to follow on that front although I didn’t tell her I was going to do this so Bubbe is probably sitting at the table reading this post while schvitzing and spitting out her morning coffee…

Here’s us introducing AJ Ross of ABC News to The Pope Doll.

That’s not lucky…

The most common reaction people have to hearing about my site:
When I tell people about immodiumabuser.com, they always think it’s a joke. They look at me as if I’m kidding and then when they actually see that it’s a real website, their face changes into a mix of confusion, disgust, contempt, and then back to confusion again. Doesn’t matter if its people who just met me or that have known me for years; the concern immediately takes over their face as they either first realize or finally confirm that something is definitely wrong with me. The very next thing almost every single person says immediately after this is “your poor wife!” I literally cannot tell you the countless number of times someone has said that to me! Thousands! When I tell people that she’s my biggest fan and actually thinks it’s awesome – I can see the same look of concern come back as they wonder if something is wrong with her too. (There’s not, just for the record).

The strangest celebrity encounter:

I’ve had so many ridiculous celebrity encounters, but if I chose one it would probably be when I went to shake his hand but ended up actually fondling N.O.R.E.’s thumb. Literally full-on fondling his thumb! I’m still not entirely sure how exactly that happened but it’s probably better to never mention it again…

This is not to say that he was my favorite encounter as Ice-T is my Buddy and if there were any sense of justice in the world, Ice-T and I would be killing it on The Amazing Race right now. Can you even imagine the level of awesome him and I could bring to that show? We’d be The OG and The AD! We’d be abusing the streets with AD & Tweets!

On an amazing side note, I don’t like to brag, but no statistic I can ever share with you is more important than this one: in the past few months, Ice-T has liked almost 30 of my tweets, so he’ll always be my favorite and obviously he has great taste! Either that or he’s just leading me on and the restraining order will follow any day now…

Look at that crazy shirt – It’s like Michael Jackson is in there peeking out…

Odd Footnote:
Gene Simons stopped what he was doing to give me advice! Yes that Gene Simmons from Kiss! He took one look at my business card and said “what a waste – the back side of this card is blank; put something there and use that space. People turn it over and nothing – what a missed opportunity!” I was just glad he didn’t have his book in hand to bop me too because it was the same exact day that he was literally popping people on the noggin with his new book and got banned from FOX News. I don’t hold that against him and I’m actually not sure I would have really minded if he tried to knock some sense into me.

One day, these business cards will be collector’s items or, more than most likely, it’ll be exhibit A in the evidence file for Ice-T’s restraining order…

Fan Mail:
Like a true superstar – I’ve gotten my share of fan mail. I’m not saying that I get bags full of correspondence and cards like Harry & Meghan do, but I do receive crazy notes that make me smile. I want to make note of one in particular as this dude is my kind of awesome crazy! I originally thought that he might be a Red Sox fan from Boston because of the name, but once I read his note, I knew exactly what he meant when his signature had a poop emoji and a sock (I assume it’s been lost to a terrible shit and who hasn’t been there – amIright?). He proudly wears the name Sox Guy because sometimes he shits so bad he has to sacrifice a sock and here’s a sampling of his awesome note and part of my response:

I’m not sure if my wife was more shocked/appalled that he wrote to me, that I wrote back and forth with him as if he was my new pen pal, or the fact that he actually found me on Linkedin! Looking back at the site’s creation, I’m sure that’s the exact intention the founding fathers of Linkedin had in mind when they developed the site – connecting shitting blog fans with their authors!

Next Steps:
So what do the next 200 posts hold in store? It may seem impossible, but I’ve actually been holding back on you, so I’m going to do that less in the future. That may sound ridiculous considering the things that I do share, but there are hysterical stories I haven’t told because I’m afraid they don’t really paint me in the most flattering light. It’s ironic because when I said that same thing to my wife – she rolled her eyes and said “And exactly what type of light do you think you’re currently painting yourself in?” Well played Honey!

I guess holding back was all in vain, so expect a lot more crazy stories, idiotic adventures, and lots more celebrity sightings. You can’t believe how extremely hard it is not to make me sound like a douche when sharing stories of how I’ve tormented senior citizens, gotten fired from a cruise ship, experimented with a controversial religion, or had a crazy explosive shit so bad that I actually had to switch gyms, but now the gloves are off. Be careful what you ask for people because Immodium Abuser is going wild and you’re in for it!

Let me know if there’s anything you want to know about? In the meantime – sign up for the email post updates here so you never miss a post, go follow me on Twitter, and then like my Facebook page before people think there’s really something wrong with you!

Work life balance or how I learned to use my keyboard instead of my belt

November 18, 2015November 18, 2015 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 6 Comments

If there’s one quote I’ll like to be known for – it’s that “I write so that I don’t strangle anyone.” I was fortunate enough to realize early on in my career that it’s always a better idea to use your keyboard instead of your belt with bosses and coworkers. Many a blog post or a late-night journal entry has kept me in check and enabled me to keep things in perspective as opposed to the stress forcing me into a full-on cage match in my cubicle.

As a general rule, most people will drive you crazy if you carpool with them – so don’t let them in. There’s always going to be traffic, there’s always going to be work meetings, there’s always going to be people texting and not paying attention, there’s always going to be family commitments that you don’t have enough time for, and you’re very rarely (if ever) going to be appreciated at work! Get control over it or it will overtake you!

The key to happiness isn’t a big revelation people, the key is to be able to identify and create a little, protected zone where you have something that’s just for you; it’s that simple. Even if it’s just for a few minutes here and there, those little escapes will maintain order and sanity in your life. When I enter my zone and get pulled into a favorite book, am able to grab some wine with my beautiful wife, or just sit and play Star Wars with my sons – I get a sense of calm and meaning that the rest of the day can’t give me.

I write a humor blog not because I’m so funny and I just need to show everyone – one glance at my face tells them that. I write because it gives me a sense of meaning and accomplishment and I take a lot of pride in what I write. It’s an escape where I can take a few minutes and get into some deep keyboard action where no one else exists except for me and that keyboard. It’s my party and I’ll type if I want to!

Once I post something I’ve written, there’s a great feeling of accomplishment that’s hard to duplicate. It’s sending a little piece of me into the vast internet galaxy and hoping that someone out there seeking a new experience and few good chuckles will find my message in a bottle.

This isn’t something I get paid to do, but I love it more than anything in my work career. It fulfills me in a way that defies explanation. I know what you’re thinking: When I’m already so busy, who wants added work to write something, edit the piece, find a couple of silly pictures to accompany it, post it, and then start anew? It isn’t work to me – it’s a labor of love. Sure, I have lazy times when I can’t be bothered with it because life has gotten in the way and overloaded me, but like a devoted pup or an aging bottle of scotch, it’s always there waiting when I need it.

If someone reads something that I’ve written and laughs or likes and shares it with their friends, that’s a feeling you can’t describe. I write to create something and hope that people like it and as a byproduct of that it resonates with someone. Being funny is all in perspective and my sense of humor might not be for everyone, but sometimes you strike a cord and people just connect with your words.

Truth be told, some of my friends and some members of my family don’t even bother to read it, but I take solace in the fact that there are a bunch of strangers that follow me and look forward to things I write. They like it and they share it and they comment on it and they follow me and they encourage me. There are days at work when I literally wanna place my junk into a metal fan because it’s so bad, but when I write – it immediately takes me to another place which makes up for the worst day in my office anytime!

I start writing something and it transports me away and then I go back to it later on or move onto another topic, but it’s that escape that keeps me coming back. It’s the feeling of satisfaction that fills a need and makes everything a little better. I’m like everyone else, I dream of walking into work one day and saying “screw this, it isn’t what I love and I won’t do it one more day!” but of course I don’t really do that – that’s what dreams are for. They let you imagine a world of your own creation where you’re in control and life is what you make of it. I’m extremely lucky to have this positive outlet, when I see so many people bogged down and struggling to get through the day to day.

The issue of course becomes how do I maintain a blog about embarrassing shitting stories and experiences where I come off like the combination of equal parts George Costanza and Larry David with a hint of Woody Allen mixed in without sacrificing my professional reputation at work? Simple, I use a pen name – Immodium Abuser. It’s my super hero secret identity and protects my career while giving me the freedom to write honestly and put it out there without having to worry if people see it. The insecurity and fear doesn’t rule me the way it would if I published under my real name. Can you imagine if I had to explain to my boss why in the world I tormented my brother’s girlfriend with a life-size, plastic Baby Jesus, why people from Imodium AD tried to stage an intervention with me or tell him about my sister shitting on a cat? Some things are just better left out of the office…

For all my homies to get to know mes

March 3, 2013March 3, 2013 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 2 Comments

I posted this a few months ago for all the newbies – and it appears the time is ripe for it again. I’ve gotten a ton of new followers since then and I want to make them feel right at home and steer them down the right path. With so many posts on here, it’s hard to know where to start and unless you’re dedicated like Crazy-Annie-Smack-that-Fannie, you might not go back and start at the beginning to read them all…

Click here to start the ride and get caught up!

Like Tevye Sang: Tradition, Tradition! Tradition!

December 27, 2012December 27, 2012 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 2 Comments

To all my peeps that gave me flak for not following through with a Holiday tradition – here you are people!!!

CLICK HERE!!!

Whether you had gefilte fish or the feast of the seven fishes – HAPPY HOLIDAYS.

***Fun Holiday Fact: Approximately 16.8 percent of all herpes outbreaks occur from a well-intentioned mistletoe – so be safe out there! Unless it’s dangling from your belt buckle – be strategic about that mistletoe placement this Season…

For all my Homies to get to know mes

August 21, 2012September 6, 2018 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 29 Comments

Of all the questions that people ask me about this site, nine times out of ten there is some variation of “Your poor wife, how does she do it?” as the very first question. The second question is which is the best post to read if you’re new to this site and haven’t had a chance to catch up on all the older stuff posted here. If you fall into the latter category than today is your lucky day!

I’ve created a list of what I think are the essential posts you MUST read in order to get to know this site. Others are really funny as well, but this is where you should start. These are in no particular order, just a random collective to get you up to speed. I must advocate caution while ingesting these posts, as some of them are really funny. In the lab, some of the test subjects were known to lose control of themselves while reading – so avoid liquids while consuming them at all costs!

As an added treat, I will be reposting some of the oldies in between new posts here on the site….if you’ve already read them, it’ll be a refresher. If you’re an Imodium virgin and this is your first time getting a piece – Enjoy it! If your favorite isn’t listed here, let me know in the comments which one you’d have picked…

When I was mistaken for a retarded person TWICE in less than a half hour!!!

Assaulting Tom Cruise-Part 1: Hit and run

Assaulting Tom Cruise-Part 2: Great, now Rosie O’Donnell thinks I’m a scumbag

Just for the Holiday Season: My Famous Baby Jesus Story

One of my many Ah-Shit Moments (Literally!)

Who does this shit happen to?

Like I’ve heard so many times before “Wow, That’s a long one!”

Wanna hear something ironic? Imodium AD actually tried to stage an intervention with me!!!

Our Honeymoon Part One: Ain’t no joke, our bed broke (Twice!!!) and I had to call a bloke who was sippin’ on a coke; All because I gave her a poke!

Our Honeymoon Part Two: Forget finger lickin’- my masseuse was testicle flickin!!!

Drop a note below and let me know which one is your favorite.

Just for the Holiday Season: My Famous Baby Jesus Story

December 27, 2010December 10, 2015 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 7 Comments

I am not one to start with a disclaimer, but this post might need one. Some people get really crazy about Religion and what should and shouldn’t be done with iconic religious figures, so let me say right now that if you are the type that gets easily offended by the inappropriate misuse of a religious figurine by an absolute moron – STOP READING THIS NOW! Otherwise enjoy and don’t say that I didn’t warn you…

As you get together this week and surrounded yourself with those animals that you call Dad or Mom or maybe they’re your brother, sister, or even the housekeeper serving dinner – remember the spirit of the Holiday Season and what it was intended to be about: The Baby Jesus! I’m not kidding – I’d like to share a little something that happened to me the year that a little plastic baby named Jesus came into my life.

I was on winter recess from college and the insurance claims company where my sister Marlene worked needed temporary help for the holidays. I wasn’t really the working type but I figured a few extra bucks couldn’t hurt, so I signed on for a few weeks.

The office was in the basement of the owner’s house and besides him and I, there were only women working in the office. They were all crazy, but of particular note was the Office Manager, Kim. She was nuts and I do say that a lot about people, but with her it was actually true. She was dating my brother Angelo and if there was ever a person that should have been force-medicated because she was oh so crazy – it was Kim. She was a nice girl and all and no offense to my brother, but there was something really wrong with the water in that well if you know what I mean. Something was off and this is coming from a person that is a little “off.” If I know one thing for sure when I see it – it’s another crazy person and that bitch made me seem like a calm breeze. More about her later.

The office was about twenty minutes away from our house and Marlene and I had just left work and were heading home. We were driving along talking about nonsense as usual when I looked out the window and saw it. It was dark out and partially concealed, but I could see clear as day. They don’t call me Eagle Eye for nothing. (OK, no one actually calls me Eagle Eye, but what a cool nickname that would be – right?) I started screaming “Stop the car – Stop the car right now!!!” and Marlene swerved to the right, cut someone off and slammed on her brakes landing her hooptie halfway up the curb. I bolted out and ran down the sidewalk and as quick as a bunny I was back in the car cradling two plastic Baby Jesus figurines from a lawn manger. They were both life-size and in perfect condition, but one was painted to look like a real baby and the other was completely white – like a poor little albino Baby Jesus. I just knew in my soul that he wasn’t painted to remind me of the hardships and sacrifices in life and to remind me to give back and think of others…Or maybe the factory it came from ran out of flesh colored paint, which is far more likely.

It was January and Christmas was over, but someone had disgracefully thrown the Baby Jesus into the trash pile. Is it Baby Jesuses? Or is it like “The Gift of the Magi” and they’re called the Baby Jesi if there are more than one? Either way – You don’t do that! Just like with the disposal of a damaged American Flag, there is a certain protocol for the disposal of religious figurines. I am not sure exactly what that protocol is and Father John has been ignoring my calls since my Stigmata scare turned out to be a false alarm (OK, maybe I jumped the gun a little and got a little nervous…but it sure seemed like Stigmata to me) a few months ago but I knew that it wasn’t supposed to be in a heap of garbage and my Catholic guilt couldn’t let the Baby Jesus go out like that.

I was trying to buckle the Baby Jesus and his albino twin into their seatbelts in the back (Don’t roll your eyes, obviously, I didn’t know I would be picking up two babies or we would have brought car seats – sometimes life throws a curveball at you and you gotta duck) when Marlene went all kinds of crazy on me.

“Are you kidding? You almost got us into an accident to pick those fucking plastic dolls out of someone’s garbage – what’s wrong with you?”

“Lower your voice right now! They can hear every word your saying and they’ve been through a lot! I whispered back at her harshly.”

“What are you even going to do with those? Why did you take them out of the garbage Fred Sanford?”

Me in the Red Sweatshirt and Marlene in the Robe

“I guess that makes you Lamont then…DUNT DUNT DUNNIT…” and with that we were laughing and heading home. If you’re reading this and don’t know the theme song to Sanford & Son call your mother right now and tell her that I said that you were raised by animals! Then go to Best Buy immediately and get the Season DVD sets because that show is hysterical!

In actuality, I think Marlene was more annoyed at herself than me for stopping the car. Usually, her ninja-like reflexes kick in when she stops the car short and this time they just didn’t. In case I failed to mention this before, Marlene thinks she’s Curtis Sliwa in the Long Island Chapter of the Guardian Angels.

All she needs is a red beret and Marlene is can be an official Guardian Angel!

She’s got a baseball bat in her trunk at all times just in case something happens; all she needs is a red beret. True as I am typing here, one night she and I saw a kid getting jumped on the street by four other guys. She stopped her car in the middle of the road, popped the trunk, got her baseball bat out of it and went running down the sidewalk faster than TJ Hooker after a suspect. As she was out there, I did what any sensible person would do – I screamed like a little girl and then dove into the driver’s seat, rolled up all the windows, locked the doors and slipped that mother into drive to get the hell out of there. I was carrying on like someone was chasing me in a Scream mask and figured it was every man for him or herself. Sister or no sister – out there on the streets – you’re on your own! Unbelievable as that was, she chased four guys away and when she helped the guy that got jumped up off the ground – he actually started yelling at her that he could have taken them. That’s when Florence Nightingale herself told him she hoped they came back and kicked the shit out of him again – she’s all heart that one.

So as we drove towards home with the babies safely tucked into the back seat – there was almost an explosion in the car. Like the stick of dynamite that went off on that cold Thanksgiving night when I drank half a gallon of apple juice – Marlene was in gastric distress. Believe it or not – this time there was severe stomach pains, sweating, cramps and a 98.6% chance of someone shitting their pants in the car and it wasn’t me! That’s what we call dramatic irony folks!

All of a sudden, Marlene shot across the highway and made a break for it down a side street. Kim, the crazy Office Manager that my brother Angelo was dating, lived close to where we were stuck in traffic so she headed that way. Kim lived in a basement apartment on a very busy street and as we pulled up in front of it, Marlene just slammed on the brakes and ran towards Kim’s door. This wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that she almost got hit by at least two passing cars as she got out because she stopped short in the middle of the street. The car in back of us almost rammed us along with the cars screeching to a halt and lining up in back of his car. I got out of the car and tried to explain to the driver holding his horn down and cursing at me that she was having bad stomach pains and then just as I got to his window and tried to apologize, he leaned out and started screaming “Move that fucking car right now you Asshole!” Well, excuse me for trying to let you know what happened sir! I finally got the car out of the street and as I parked – it came to me like a vision: I knew exactly why the Baby Jesus had been brought into my life that cold dark night…

Do not ask me what possessed me over those next few moments, but I can still see it playing out in my mind’s eye in slow motion. When I got out of the car, I unbuckled the painted Baby Jesus, took off my jacket and wrapped it around him and I went running off into the night like a flash of lighting.

By some Christmas miracle, Marlene actually made it into Kim’s bathroom seconds before shitting her pants. I guess abandoning the car in traffic was a good strategy because she got there right in the nick of time. She ran in and went straight into Kim’s bathroom leaving the front door half open. Kim was on the telephone with my brother Angelo making plans to meet up later that night as Marlene bypassed any form of small talk.

Like a SWAT team busting up a meth lab, I kicked that half-opened door and came crashing through. I was cradling the wrapped-up Baby Jesus and hunched over so that you couldn’t really tell what I was holding as I burst into the room. I started screaming at the top of my lungs “KIM, KIM, – OH MY GOD KIM– THERE’S A DEAD BABY ON THE FRONT LAWN! THERE’S A DEAD BABY – CALL 911 – THERE’S A DEAD BABYYYYYYYYYY!!!” and with that, I thrust the Baby Jesus right up into her face as I was screaming.

The look of surprise, fear and confusion on her face was such that it will forever be embedded in my memory like a tattoo. As I went in screaming at the top of my lungs, it was loud; possibly a little louder than I should have screamed, as I think about it in hindsight. Kim was normally a very nervous person and a little on edge, but screaming frightened her… As I went rushing in like I was on fire, she threw the cordless phone (with Angelo still on the line) and immediately started screaming and freaking out, I mean FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! She was running around in circles crying and screaming and throwing her arms around. When I pushed it all up in her grill and she came face-to-face with the frightened Baby Jesus, she actually swung at it to get it away from her as she threw herself to the floor and collapsed into a heap. It might not have been as bad if immediately after she hit the ground, the Baby Jesus landed on top of her and then rolled off and settled right next to her on the ground staring up into her hysterical crying face.

It was so low as she talked that it was like a little squeak in between her wheezing at first…”ge… ge… ge” “get” ”get out” “GET OUT” “GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!” as she tried to crawl towards the telephone that my brother was screaming through “WHO THE FUCK IS IN THE HOUSE…WHAT HAPPENED?…WHAT’S GOING ON?…I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU TOUCH HER!…WHO’S THERE?” (He said later he thought she had been assaulted or attacked for sure with the way she was screaming and it happened so fast that he didn’t know if he should get into the car and head over or stay on the line.)

I would like to tell you that I was a mature person and sense finally came over me during her outbreaks and then subsequent breakdown immediately following my entrance, but alas that isn’t me…As she was alternately screaming, crying, and crawling towards the phone to try and recount to Angelo what had just occurred…I was crying laughing and on the floor trying not to pee my pants. I guess in hindsight I can see how she might not have thought it was funny, but in the moment – I really thought she might laugh at the absurdity of it all. Not the case.

As she tried to talk into the receiver it was a mess…”The…Baby…The Baby…Dead Baby…the Baby Jesus is in my house…” of course it made me laugh even harder and Angelo was trying to decipher what the hell she was talking about. She was then up on her feet screaming at me to get out again and calling me every curse in the book, heavy breathing/gasping for air, and still crying while my brother started screaming again “IS SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE?…WHO’S THERE?…WHAT BABY? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!” as she threw me out the door. If she could have mustered the strength – she might have punched me in the face.

As I tried to stop laughing in her driveway and wipe the tears from my eyes, I realized that my jacket was still either wrapped around the Baby Jesus or on the floor where he and Kim hit the ground – and the car keys were tucked in the pocket of the jacket. There was absolutely no way that I could go back into that house without getting a serious beating (maybe deservedly so, I’ll give her that) so I sat out on the hood of the car waiting for Marlene.

Marlene came out of the bathroom and found Kim slumped in a pile on the living room floor crying into the phone and still not being able to explain fully what had happened to Angelo. She saw the Baby Jesus staring up at her from the living room floor and realized that the screaming and banging that she heard earlier was from me. She didn’t need to ask, but could pretty much piece together the events of the last few minutes in her mind and just walked out the door.

She came out to find me shivering from the cold but still laughing and then she got my jacket and we got back into the car. “Hey, do you think she’s going to give me back the Baby Jesus?” I asked trying to be serious and she just looked at me. “I can’t even right now…What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said and then we just busted out laughing…

As funny as Kim never found the incident and probably still doesn’t all these years later – Angelo tried not to laugh but he never heard the end of it from her. Needless to say, she was afraid to be alone there and he had to sleep over to calm her down because she was crying hysterically for hours.

The following Monday, she wouldn’t talk to me at work (OK, so maybe she had a right to be mad – I’ll give her that) and so I told her that I would “make it up to her” and go out to start her car and put the heat on for her as we were all getting ready to leave for the day. I went out and then came back to get Marlene. We got into our car, which wasn’t running and the windows were all rolled down. As I held my finger to my lips and told her not to say a word – I counted to about five before we heard Kim screaming at the top of her lungs out into the dark of night: “OH MY GOD – THE BABY JESUS IS IN MY CAR…WAAAAHHHH!!!” She started crying again and we got the hell out of there because I knew she would beat the shit out of me this time. As funny as she didn’t find it the first time, me putting the albino Baby Jesus in her car in a dark parking lot which scared her for a second time was worse. We didn’t even make it into the front door of our house before she had called my brother hysterical crying about the Baby Jesus again. He looked at me and Marlene and said “Enough with the Baby Jesus – How many of them do you even have?” and then he busted out laughing realizing how silly it sounded out loud…

I guess since time has passed I realize that it probably wasn’t something to joke about and it might have come across as mean…but it really was funny. She collapsed quicker than a Jenga game and I have never heard someone cry like that before or since. For the record, she never did give either Baby Jesus back to me.

I realize this might not be the Baby Jesus story you tell while sitting around your Christmas tree, but not a Christmas goes by that I don’t think about it and repeat around mine. I’m pretty sure not a Christmas goes by that Kim doesn’t think about it either…I imagine that if things had worked out between Angelo and Kim I might have grown to feel bad about it or been made to stop repeating this story, but like I said – she was crazy and they broke up – so here you go!

Happy Holidays to you and to all of the people in your life that would scare the shit out of you with a plastic Baby Jesus.

www.immodiumabuser.com

AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.

baby jesus

It’s Bubbe’s Berfday

Work life balance or how I learned to use my keyboard instead of my belt

For all my homies to get to know mes

Like Tevye Sang: Tradition, Tradition! Tradition!

For all my Homies to get to know mes

Just for the Holiday Season: My Famous Baby Jesus Story

Hey Yenta - tell your friends!

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Hey Yenta - tell your friends!

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Hey Yenta - tell your friends!

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