My Day Off

Hi Friends,

Well yesterday was that fun and exciting day "my day off". Of course it started with a bang when the optometrist screwed up my appointment time, I got there at 10:30 and they told me my time had been 9:15 ... NOT!  They pulled a little attitude about it, and even more surly when I produced the little card they had given me, showing 10:30.  They suggested they could maybe "fit me in" in about 3 weeks.

So I went to that cultural touchstone, Wal Mart.  The eye center at Wal Mart could see me, albeit at 3:30.  Fine.

Time to kill ... in Wal Mart. Oh boy!  This is gonna be good!

So I started thinking about all the problems in the world. Arabs vs. Isrealis, Black vs. White, Democrats vs. Republicans, Steve vs. Pai.

They say "one man can make a difference".  My parents always told me "Kal El, use your super powers for the benefit of mankind".  Well, actually what they said was "you weren't born in a barn" and "what, you think we're made of money?" and "if you keep doing that you'll go blind".  But I know that, in their hearts, what they really meant was "use your super powers for the benefit of mankind".

Wandering around the universe of coolness that is Wal Mart, I spotted in the sporting goods section, something that could help Steve.  It was a men's protector. The only problem:


They only had the "youth" size, and were out of "extra small and less than gifted in that area".  Special order only, that was not going to work as we're on a time line here.

I was over at Home Depot, and saw this kennel:



It just caught my eye becaue of the Husky on the box. Not that Cody Husky would ever lower himself to live in a kennel, but then I thought, "hey, we could put Steve in the kennel and then he'd be safe from Paige!"

Then I thought about it and remembered ... this is Paige we're talking about. She'll chew through the steel to get to Steve.

So back to Wal Mart I went, with time to kill, trying to heal this rift that could tear apart the universe and destroy all life as we know it. No, wait, that was "Star Trek: Generations".  But it's a similar event. Without the bad acting and awful toupee.

Then ... it hit me!! I knew the answer to this problem.

I BOUGHT PAIGE A GUN.

Yes, I bought Paige a gun so she can settle this once and for all.

Here it is:


See, it's not what you are thinking, it's a BUBBLE GUN so she can shoot Steve all she wants!  And at $3.97, what a bargain!

Think, if all the armies of the world were equipped with bubble guns!  The world would be so much happier. You can never have too many bubbles. Everyone loves blowing bubbles!

Even Michael Jackson:


See, that was a wretched segue into an awful, tasteless, horrid Michael Jackson joke. That isn't all that funny.

Or at least not as funny as:

Q.  What is the difference between Michael Jackson and a grocery bag?
A.  One is made of plastic and is dangerous for children to play with...
the other is used to carry groceries.

But I digress ;)

So hopefully Pai can shoot Steve all she wants, get the aggression out, and Steve will just be there, giggling in a cloud of bubbles, like Lawrence Welk.

By this point I still had time to kill before my appointment, and as you've already learned ... this is NOT a good thing.

My mind turned to other matters, in particular the "Steve Head on a Stick Shirts", or as they were nicknamed "contraceptive devices".  Well there is only one way to improve on the shirts and that is ... Procto-Panties!

Yes, your intrepid reporter made a dash back into Wal Mart. My first panty buying trip in my 40.98 years, I felt as if all eyes were upon me and certainly they were, as the dour old wench at the checkout counter looked at me archly.

Now the funny thing, I was so stressed about trying to find true "granny panties" but couldn't (needed cotton for the transfers) that I didn't pay attention at all to size.  All men know that buying lingerie for women is the most dangerous thing they will ever do, because if you're off even a size, high OR low, you are DEAD MEAT. So I opted for size, and I think I overshot by about a mile. Why can't women have sensible sizes like men where 34 inches is ... 34 inches?  Beats me.

So here we are, the ultimate contraceptive device:



Now we did have a discussion and it was pointed out to me that the Steve Face needed to be on the FRONT, not the back. Sort of like that old joke about the guy who's not getting any attention on the beach, he goes to the lifeguard and says "hey you're not all that great looking, but you're always surrounded by the ladies, what is your secret?" to which the lifeguard replies "get a potato and put it in your trunks". The guy does so and it's AWFUL and worse than before NO ONE will get near him. He goes back to the lifeguard to see what he is doing wrong, and the lifeguard looks away in disgust and says "you're supposed to put the potato in THE FRONT".

So in this vein, even more Steve, this time Steve in the caboose:



So really, you're covered both ways!  And you can have Steve with you, all the time.

Remember, if you're wearing Steve, it will make you feel PRETTY, all the time!

So then I started feeling a little left out. Where are my contraceptive device underwear?  I mean, you ladies took me to a nude gay beach, I was the one in danger! 

Never fear, Dr. Mark is here!  I have a solution to my problem: Procto-Boxers!


Yes, one cheek is Steve's grinning mug, and the other cheek, just in case, is "No Entry / Authorized Personnel ONLY". 

In the BACK of the boxers, of course ;)

Oh, and Steve knows how I feel about GAPS, especially in CDs, so you'll be happy to note that the boxers I bought are GUARANTEED GAP FREE:


See, right there "will not gap". If only CD burning software could make that promise. Gap THIS, baby.

By this point the time for my appointment had arrived, and my work was done.  I will be taking orders for Procto-Panties, please provide the necessary sizes, and allow 2 weeks for delivery ... enjoy!

Mark