Yard Balls


In 25 years, I think movie makers will use the PT cruiser as the go- to vehicle symbol of the American Loser, ala Wayne and Garth’s AMC Pacer.



“Qualified buyers” If you really are a Highly Qualified Buyer, do you even need the Zero Down Payment program?



I love the Yard Sale. And the Garage Sale. Even an occasional Estate Sale. What I think is most interesting is the levels of these things. There is a definite hierarchy of sales. At the top you have the Estate Sale, followed by the Neighborhood Sale, then the Garage Sale, then a Yard Sale, and then it’s just junk by the curb. There are several subsets within the general levels, including the post-auction estate sale, the 50% off sale, and the closeout garage sale where most of your junk is just free anyway. All the names, all the different signs, it’s really all the same thing, you trying to make a nickel off of some shoes you want to throw away. I love it.



Speaking of garage sales, here are the items a person should never buy at a garage sale. Underpants. Medical Equipment. Food. Brand new electronics. Cars. Sex. There are more I am sure, but that’s a good starter list.


I would like to use this opportunity to share with you some quotes from my buddy J.B. He is quite a dude, to be sure. His life does, in many ways resembles that of Kramer on Seinfeld, although to be fair, he doesn’t not actually resemble Michael Richards in any way.
J.B. on his philosophy for Work. “Sometimes I lie, I tell them I care”
J.B. on a female acquaintance “The only time I really ever talked to her was to give her directions to my house”


J.B. is also the protagonist of today’s strange but true story. Home alone one evening, J.B. constructs himself a delicious Ham Sandwich, with cheese and places it in the Microwave to warm. Distracted by a telephone call, J.B. heads downstairs to his room. Phone call completed, J.B. becomes engrossed in an episode of Road Rules and forgets about the sandwich. An hour passes and the roommate returns home with a date. Hearing the sounds of the roommate and date in the kitchen, J.B. is reminded of his delicious Ham Sandwich. He proceeds to walk into the Kitchen and press the start button on the microwave, waits patiently for 15 seconds and retrieve his delicious sandwich. The roommate and date are amazed as apparently J.B. has discovered the mythical “Ham Sandwich” button on the microwave.


If you were in Hell, and the Devil chooses to stab you in the balls with a pitchfork, how would that feel? Isn’t the point of Hell that it can’t possibly be any worse? Maybe you don’t have any balls in Hell.

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