The Sea was angry that day my friends – My Costanza moment finally arrived!!!

Sea was angry


I normally try not to drag my wife into my crazy stories on here, but this time I just couldn’t resist! We went away to celebrate her birthday without the kids for the very first time since they were born and it had the makings of a fantastic getaway; that is until the universe pulled out an ironic twist of fate to remind me that “I am Costanza, Lord of the Idiots!”




Let’s be honest – this has been the worst winter in a long time, and she’d been so looking forward to getting away to the beach, that I was afraid she might make a run for it and swim out to join Ariel the second she saw it. As we parked and walked through the sand, there was no one around. When I say there was no one around, I mean it was deserted. Obviously, early April isn’t beach weather, but it was finally a really nice day after a long crappy streak of dismal days and wasn’t too cold to be down by the water, so we were surprised to find it empty. As it turned out and we’d later discover, there was a small group of other people, but I’ll circle back to them in a minute.




My wife LOVES the beach and was so excited to see the ocean, so as soon as we arrived we went straight there. She’s part mermaid and was born and raised on the ocean, whereas I’ve been hiding in the shade my whole life like a vampire. The beach isn’t something I particularly care for (come on, you’re literally sitting in dirt!), but since it was her birthday and my wife stays home, raising our kids and working one hundred times harder than I ever do at my job, I was determined not to spoil it for her. Little did I know what we were in for…?




As we walked down through the sand, I could see the sheer joy on my wife’s face and her big smile was so contagious that I just looked at her sheer happiness and thought “what could be better than this?” Then I stopped and squinted – trying to make sense of the sight in front of us. I was squinting and confused, until I realized and gasped – because I thought I was hallucinating: “What…the Fuck…is that?” I shouted and she stopped dead in her tracks.




I couldn’t tell if it was a tree trunk washed ashore until I saw it moving, but right there sprawled out before us was not the Kissed by a Rose dude that snubbed me a few months ago, but an actual living, breathing, seal! We thought he might be out there sunning himself at first, but from the noises and restricted movements it was making, we could tell it was in pain. We were shocked to see it, but even more shocked to see the group of Mennonite women playing ball next to it as if it were part of the game. Forgive me for not staying current on all the games these kids are playing now, but common sense should take over and tell you not to put your slam ball or you corn hole that close to a dying seal! It was like they were waiting for him to tap in and play.




I couldn’t tell for certain if they were Amish or Mennonites or the cast of The Handmaid’s Tale out there in that garb, but what I could tell is that they were definitely idiots. We were like “did you guys call the police?” and they were like “for what?” It was almost like a hidden camera how because there’s no way they didn’t notice it… it was right then that I knew that I’d have to be the Marine Biologist on the shore that day! My whole life had been working towards this moment and I was determined to fulfill my Costanza destiny and save that seal! I rolled up my sleeves and went marching over to lend a hand when I heard the voice of wisdom from above: “Do not touch that seal!”




It actually wasn’t divine intervention, but my wife reminding me not to get too close to an animal in pain. I was convinced he just needed to get back into the water and she looked at me like I was crazy and said “What do you think there’s an underwater emergency room down there? Do they have seal band aids and nurses to take care of him? It obviously needs medical attention – Leave it alone!” She’s seen one episode of National Geographic and all of a sudden she’s an expert…but in all seriousness, it would be very cool if they had seal band aids with either the animal on them or the Kissed By a Rose singer!




We agreed to disagree as I was convinced that all that poor seal needed was just a push to get it rolling back into the water, but quickly reminded myself that this is exactly what happened to Buster Bluth on Arrested Development when the seal bit off his hand. (Also, not the Kissed by a Rose singer, but an actual live seal). Not wanting a hook for a hand since it limits my Halloween costume choices, I looked around for a branch or piece of wood to gently press under him to start rolling him into the water when the Po Po arrived.




From one professional offering courtesy to another professional, I went over to update the officer and explain my strategy for assisting the seal when he stopped me mid-sentence and said “Do Not touch that seal – do you understand what I’m saying?” Obviously, he was very sensitive about who was actually in charge of the situation, but I didn’t want to start a fight so I deferred and let him have this one. Also, that was a big seal and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to roll his fat ass back into the water alone and no one was looking to assist me! My favorite part was how he was looking at me like I was the crazy one, yet the cult ten feet away still hadn’t stopped their game to pay any mind to him or the seal. It was as if there were Vegas odds and they stood to make a fortune the way they were so wrapped up in that game.



Two experts conferring on the scene…



He called animal control to pick up the seal and I left feeling satisfied that my job here was done. I actually did a double take and started looking around for the cameras because I was absolutely convinced we had just stumbled onto the set of the next season of Arrested Development. My wife, on the other hand, said she’d been to the beach thousands of times in her life and here I come rolling into the sand and it’s a shit show. After that, I just kept repeating “The sea was angry that day my friends…”and we did have a really nice weekend despite the seal and the cult members. Sometimes all you need is to seal the deal early and you’ll have a nice time after that.




It’s kind of ironic that this happened and my Facebook profile is actually this meme I put up back in December for my sister’s birthday:





The most Sponge-worthy book of the year is here: Seinfeldia is available now!!!


Seinfeldia by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong



Rare is the occasion that I find myself taking up valuable real estate here in the Immodium Abusing landscape to talk about and promote someone else –  yet here we are!  I am literally Tickled like that new documentary that there’s a new book launching today called Seinfeldia by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong (


Jennifer Armstrong


This book has awoken in me a fervor that I haven’t felt since Imodium AD stormed back onto the shelves late last year; Seinfeldia is a can’t miss book for every fan of Seinfeld about the making of what became arguably the best show ever!!! Now I know what you’re thinking; what could she have promised him for promoting the new book? Full disclosure – because it will probably come out sooner or later – Jen shaved my back in return for an honest-to-goodness plug for the book. Don’t let that stop you from getting a copy because I have really short arms so I couldn’t reach my upper back and more importantly, it’s actually a great book! Quid Pro quo Clarice.



I know you’re scared, the very thought of actually reading a book..with pages full of words…just for fun – is frightening. I hear you, but it’ll be OK. What? You don’t know how to read yet? Well, isn’t this the perfect little tome to start you along the path to phonetic understanding? It’s a literal Hooked on Phonics covering everything from A to Yada Yada!


The best part of this is that Jennifer Armstrong isn’t too big for her britches yet so she’ll respond to tweets and Social media shoutouts! Go ahead – get the book and test it out! Let the world know what you think of it. Tell your friends and just maybe next time you’ll be invited to Armstrong’s Festivus Seder too!




Three months from now when she’s all famous and hosting her own White Party in The Hamptons and dancing like Elaine – you can say you knew her back when she was just Jenny from the block. Do you want to be the only one there with shrinkage that hasn’t read it? Also, it’s not just a name to her – Jennifer really does have Strong Arms. Start carrying this book to the beach this Summer and you can too!


seinfeld cartoon


Still here? What the hell are you waiting for? Click here to get this breathtaking book now and start reading! Not sure you want to pull the trigger yet –preview the first few pages and you’ll want to drape yourself in velvet if it were socially acceptable too!


Summer of George


Don’t believe me about how great the book is? Here’s The NY Times review.

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

work life

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.

Star Wars


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!

text and drive.png


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.

luke warm


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.

start writing


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!

hell meme


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.


taco bell.jpg


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…


wine 2


The Greatest Love of All

I bet that if you were to ask my wife, she would say it was her – but let’s be honest here: My soulmate and the great love of my adult life has been Imodium AD. I love my wife to death, but this is a no-brainer and pretty obvious. Imodium  AD has touched me in an obscene, all-consuming way that no woman could ever truly understand. It’s done more to support me and has just always been there for me – it’s ‘had my back’ as we used to say on the street. I would never stray, but lately I’ve been having these overwhelming feelings and I’m torn – Don’t tell Imodium, but my Rogaine is fighting to get control of my heart!    

In case you don’t know what I look like, I’ll give you a visual. Picture a younger George Costanza with contact lenses instead of the glasses and that’s me. I’m short, overweight, balding, and unemployed, and those are just the highlights! I have actually come to accept these quirks and try not to harp on them anymore. I mean, I can’t do anything about the shortness (especially since I fell the last time that I wore platform boots), I’m actually eating more to bulk up for the eventual stomach band surgery I’ll get, but baldness is where I draw the line.

I say balding, because I have been fighting an uphill battle to keep those baldness dogs at bay for a few years now. I don’t have the luscious mane that I had in high school or the bleached blond (just like Slim Shady) full head of hair from college, but I’ve still got a bit up there. If you go through my family tree, no man in my family has hair past twenty years old. It starts thinning and thinning, until the only thing left is a memory. My brother Arthur finally shaved his head, but until he did, the front of his head looked like a yoyo – all surface and one little string in the center.

I’ve actually considered (and still might) converting to become a Jew so I can have the yarmulke cover my bald spot.

Funny little side story: At my brother Anthony’s wedding I was an usher and we were waiting in the bridal room for the DJ to announce the wedding party. We were drinking for a while and I had already soaked the flower girl with a pitcher of water because she touched my food (don’t you dare say that’s a mean thing to do – that little bitch deserved it!) I found a yarmulke with Daniel’s Bar Mitzvah emblazoned across it in rhinestone in a drawer so I put it on my head figuring that it would cover my bald spot for the photos, but my brother Arthur saw it and asked what the hell I was doing. “Get that off your head, are you an asshole? Why are you wearing that?” I didn’t miss a beat and said, “Are you kidding, you were at my wedding! You know my wife is Jewish and I converted. I’m Jewish!” (which was a crock of shit that I made up just then and really, what self-respecting Jew is wearing their Daniel’s Bar Mitzvah Rhinestone-covered yarmulke at a wedding?) He apologized immediately said “I’m sorry, I forgot that you did.” I replied as gingerly as a drunk fool could “Are you an idiot? -You don’t even know if I’m Jewish or not? I made it up – I’m not Jewish!”  “Come on” he replied “Are you Jewish or not?” My own brother didn’t even know if I was Jewish and it wasn’t like I got married years before – it was only a few months before this wedding – I love it.

I know that some people might be offended by that, but I am more of a shallow man than I am a religious man, so converting religions to cover a bald spot isn’t a lot to do. I know people think it’s not a big deal and I am acting crazy with this fascination with my hair, but on this one I will defer to Babs from Making the Band 2 when she fought with Chopper: “I TOLD YOU CHOPPER, YOU DON’T GO MESSING WITH MY HAIR” when he didn’t give her a phone message from the stylist and she was trying to get her weave done. Sing it Sister – I hear ya!

When I was younger, I swore that I would never be bald because I was still holding out hope that I was adopted or switched at birth or left on the doorstep and that I would have wonderful thick hair, but fate and my lineage turned on me like a cold-hearted bitch…so I ran to the open arms of the Rogaine. I was actually afraid of the Rogaine at first. You had to touch it to apply it and I’m OCD so I got rubber gloves. It was also messy and would drip down the back of my neck or my forehead when I applied it. I was terrified that I would end up with a thick mane of hair running down the back of my neck like a giraffe. Also, what if I started growing hair on the tips of my fingers? If Rogaine will make hair grow on my head, why not on my fingertips? Forget about shaking someone’s hand, how the hell would I ever wipe my ass while holding a ball of yarn in my hand? That isn’t sterile.

As if hearing my concerns/prayers, they worked out a compromise and came out with Rogaine Foam which has changed my life. Gone is the eye dropper to apply it and then dabbing the tissues to stop it from dripping off my scalp. It now looks like shaving cream and dissolves when you rub it in. You obviously still need the rubber gloves, but that’s not so bad. Just like the institution of marriage – this has been a blessed union. And just like the first time I had a strawberry flavored Charleston Chew (Bemish’s favorite) – I was hooked.

Although I would love it one day, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have dreadlocks and I have accepted that. I won’t be able to have a ponytail and I have accepted that. I’m still holding out hope for the cornrows, but I will get over that too eventually. For the chance at a full-fledged mullet, I might even consider trading a kidney…I know that I would look ridiculous with each and every one of those hairstyles, but I would at least like to have the option…Rogaine is making a play for my affections and I am torn. At the end of the day – there’s enough room in my heart for both of them, but my Imodium AD will always get the top shelf.