So Long 'Ol Buddy

Well, I know I joke about him a lot in my blog but I lost my best friend in the whole world recently.  We had to put Vegas down after 14 and a half hilarious, love-filled years.  Our hearts are broken.  I am working on a tribute blog more as therapy for myself than anything else so expect that in the near future.  For now, I just have a poem.  Peace.

10 More Observations From My 43 Years Of Life

1.  Why does drinking bathroom water just seem so gross?  If my nightstand water runs out in the middle of the night and I fill it in the master bath, I am almost too disgusted to even drink it.  It's like my brain is trying to convince my mouth that somehow the sink plumbing is set to filter through the toilet bowl.

2.  How come we can go on vacation for a week and come home to 1 message on the answering machine?  But then if I try to lie down for an hour nap, I get a phone call every 7 minutes from everyone from my mom to the guy possibly running for hover car commissioner in 2037.

3.  You ever meet anyone whose voice just always sounds like they need to clear their throat?  I just want to cut them off and say, "Sorry, we can't be friends.  Ever thought of being a mime?".

4.  Maybe I'm just a slob, but it annoys me on t.v. when people sit in their own house eating potato chips out of a bowl while they are watching television.  I mean really, who the f**k does this?  So then what you don't finish, you have to try to pour back into the bag?  If we're having a party or the queen's coming over, then yeah.  But, if it's just us, dig those dirty, slobbery hands right down into that bag like God intended.

5.  I get so sick of calling help lines for supposedly American companies and being patched through to obviously not America to a person that I can not even begin to understand.  HOW IS THAT "HELPING" ME?  I so just want to immediately start speaking gibberish.  Every question they ask me, I just want to answer "Bintoggle shnozy digfobber gizooley".  Then just keep it up "poozale tinthurton gingalala poontoplibnoggy".  Until finally, they have to say, "sir, I can't understand you".  Then, I will calmly say in perfect English "Now you know what I am dealing with."

6.  Why do offices have casual Friday where you get to wear jeans to work?  Who decided that jeans are "casual".  If it were truly "casual", I would be allowed to kick back in my cube in my underwear with a beer resting on my belly.  And who picked dress pants as being the bad part about dressing up to where it's a reward to not have to wear them?  Personally, I think the shoes are worse.  If I ran the office it would be "Swim Fin Fridays" just to make it fun.  Wouldn't you love to see Farnsworth from accounting stumbling around the office in swim fins?

7.  Why is it that I can brush my teeth and when I am done, you can look at my sink and not be able to tell that I brushed my teeth?  However, if you go into my kids' bathrooms at any given time, there will be half the tube squirted out by the faucet handles and visible toothpaste in various spots from up by the ceiling to on the baseboard.  Really, how is this even possible?  Does one of them hold up a toothbrush over by the wall and the other one set the tube on the vanity and pound their fist on it to see if they can make the toothpaste on to the brush?   I guess I should just be happy that they are at the very least giving the illusion of brushing their teeth.

8. Noah must have brought 2 termites on the ark.  Was that really the best idea?

9.  How come when I am mowing and all of the sudden I can't tell where I've already been, I panic?  Does it really matter?  It must not have needed mowed to begin with.  Also, if I get done and see that I've missed a spot, it drives me just a little bit insane to look at it every day but not quite so insane enough to get the mower back out.  And something I really don't understand is why the Hell is it easier for me to weed eat walking backwards?  Is it meant to be done that way or is it just something that I unintentionally do?

10.  To me, the smell of burps is way more gross than than the smell of farts.  Fart odors in overall stenchability can be much more powerful but are so far removed from the actual smell of what it used to be that my mind can separate that.  However, burps still kind of smell like the food it once was attached to but with a putrid twist, so that to me is much worse.

Perry's 4th of July Lesson

Here is the next installment of the Perry Rabbit children's book series that I wrote but haven't been able to get published yet.  Again, I would appreciate any feedback but please don't be mean and make me cry.

KEYBOARD TIP! - Hold the control key down and hit the + (plus) sign to zoom in or control key and - (minus) sign to zoom out. Finally, hold the control key down and hit 0 (zero) to go back to the original page size. If you have a MAC, just get your butler to read the damn thing to you.

THANK YOU VETERANS!!!!

I Finally Hit The Big Time

Remember this blog?

http://coreycase.blogspot.com/2012/03/man-if-shitting-on-lawn-were-only-more.html

     Well guess what!  My Mad magazine came today (for all of you thinking it, YES THEY STILL PRINT THAT AND NO, I HAVE NEVER GROWN UP).

     No, I don't read it with my feet.  It's just a happy accident that my toes are in the shot.  I flipped it open a few pages and there before my eyes was Vegas's shit.

     For those of you that don't subscribe or "prescribe" as my old boss used to say, I will show a close up so you can read my letter and their response.

I get good prizes this time, see.  What do I mean "this time"?  You will see later.

     Well, Vegas's shit is enjoying whole heartedly it's 15 minutes of fame.  Trust me, there is NO talking to his shit right now.  Unless of course you have your people contact his people and set up a meeting.  All his shit wants to do is hang out by the pool all day with a cocktail.

I find this odd since we all know what usually happens when turds get near water.

     Hopefully, once all of these "black tie affairs" die down, the pooparazzi will quit bugging him and life can get back to normal.

     Until then, I figured "why should Vegas's shit reap all of the rewards?  I did all of the work!  It just had to lie there."  So, I will be selling it for $5 a piece or I will arrange shit into personal sentiments for a $1 a letter.  Who wouldn't want to surprise their sweetheart on their anniversary with an "I Love You" spelled out in animal fecal?

     Of course, this isn't the first time that I have been published in Mad.  I got our coconut monkey evaluated in "Antiques Freakshow" a few years ago.  Just think, Dane Cook and Jim Gaffigan have probably looked at Cal, Lukah, and my coconut monkey. To them I say, "Hey you, quit looking at my monkey."  Oh for a nickel every time I've had to say that.

Here it is a little closer so you can read it.

     Funny stuff, huh?  My prize for getting this letter in absolutely sucked.  It seemed like every month of that year BUT the one I got published in they were giving away cars, houses, boats, and prostitutes.  I got. . . 

     ZZZZZZZZZZZZ!  Right in the rummage sale with that one.  What will I buy with that nickel?  That's not even enough to buy a piece of my own dog's shit.

     Lastly, way before these and in a much less funny publication (although that "drama in real life" is hysterical), a picture I took of Mikah and my nephew Bradley was sent in by my mom and published in Reader's Digest.  

     Too bad I had to freeze my nads off (I'm not too sure that's not what they're rolling around in that picture) to dig the fort and take the picture. 

What Happened In Vegas Didn't Stay In Vegas

     That's right, 15 years baby.  On June 22, 1997, I married Andrea Lynn Maduzia (Boyum) at the Candlelight Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas, Nevada at 3:30 in the morning.  We had only known each other for 6 months, so I'm sure we had our share of naysayers.  To all of you who ever thought or said "I give them 2 months", all I have to say is . . . .

     I had gotten the ring before we left and had every intention of proposing on the plane.  I had a note that I slipped to the stewardess with instructions to the pilot.  Now-a-days, I would be tackled and anally probed if I tried something like that.  

     I had it arranged with a stewardess that she would come by and give me a signal when the pilot was about to come on the radio to give me time to get my video camera out.  Then as I was filming, she would come up and be very interested in my video camera as it was the FIRST model to have the built in viewing screen.  

     Then as she was holding it (and recording, you sly dog Corey), the pilot would come on and say something like (blah, blah, flying at 22,000 feet, blah, blah, peanuts give me the shits, blah, blah, oh and could Andi Maduzia please stand up, Corey Case has something he wants to ask her.  Here it is if you want to see it.

     My actual proposal was, "For a while now, you've been my life, my whole life, and I want you to be there for the rest of my life.  Will you marry me?"  The whole plane erupted in hoots, hollers, and applause.  I really did not think this would lead to actually getting married on that trip.  We were in line at Wet and Wild (torn down now) waiting to get on this ride.

     It had this rocket capsule that you got into and then the floor dropped out sending you down that wedgieriffic slide.  But, I digress.  Andi, looked out over the beautiful Vegas sky and said, "So, do you wanna do it?"  

     I assumed she was talking about getting married and not really doing "it" on the steps in broad daylight in full view of 100 people so I said "Sure".  We went back to our swank hotel the Westward Ho (torn down now. . . this is a recurring theme in Vegas) and started making arrangements.

     It was now getting on evening so even though Las Vegas is the city that never sleeps, they do close their damn shops every now and then.  We were having a hard time finding a tux and dress rental place still open but finally found one that was closed but would rent to us if we could get there before they were done doing inventory.  So off we ran.

     Oh my God, I had her ring but not one for myself.  Hmmm.  I don't have much money so where would be a logical place to get myself an affordable wedding band?  Not Caesar's Palace you say?  Doesn't matter, only place open.  Good thing I was in shape at that time as I RAN 2 miles down the strip in 100 degree heat.

     Shut the Hell up, you old bag!  Well, got my ring at Caesar's and I actually didn't have to hock the plane tickets home to get it.

     Next came booking the chapel.  We decided on the Candlelight Wedding Chapel down by the Riviera hotel.

     I mean if it was good enough for Bette Midler, Michael Caine, Whoopi Goldberg, and Barry White, then it's good enough for us.  Most recently, you can catch a quick shot of it in the movie Dodgeball with Vince Vaughn (see 9 seconds in on the following clip).  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yg8z0a_f7Dw

     But alas, our chapel is now gone.  I thought it was torn down but it turns out that it was just moved across town and was donated to the Clark County Museum.  See . . .  

     I wish I would have known this in 2007 as we were there and I would have liked to see it.  Back to the story.  A 3:30 a.m. was the earliest (or latest depending on your lifestyle) wedding time that we could get it.  And dammit, Elvis was done for the night.

     Now it was off to the courthouse for our marriage license.  Only in Las Vegas could you be 8 couples back for a marriage license at MIDNIGHT!  Well, we got it and the wedding went off without a hitch (except for that Goddam Kenny G suckfest background music).  

     During the ceremony, I felt something rubbing against my leg and looked down to see a cat with a tag that said "Cupid."  Some of you dudes have probably called a groomsman a pussy at some time or another but I could say it and actually mean it.  

     The ceremony was followed by hours of drinking up and down the strip which was then followed by a morning call to stunned parents.  This was capped with an all day pass out to be awakened at 5 p.m. by a congratulatory call from my sister.  Wanna see the wedding. . . .

     There was a restaurant next to this chapel called the Algiers.  When I went to Vegas with a buddy a few years before this trip, we ate at this restaurant.  It was where people would wait for their wedding times, so every few minutes someone would come in and holler "JOHNSON WEDDING PARTY!" and so on.  

     We thought that was hilarious.  Well, here is our wedding photo.  I love how you really would have no idea that it wasn't taken at a traditional church wedding.  I will break it down for you in the vein of the old VH1 pop-up videos.

LOVE YA' BABE!  HAPPY 15TH AND MANY, MANY MORE!

And New From Oreos . . .

     If Oreo Double Stuf makes our cookies twice as good, we thought then why stop there?  You and your dentist will be thanking us for Oreo's new Twentyfold Stuf®.  It's 20 times as good!

     Imagine the sparkle in your little one's eyes when you open the package and there are only 3 of those disgusting "tops" and 3 of those disgusting "bottoms" they have to endure to get their creamy prize.

     Dip them in a cool glass of milk and instead of that repulsive chocolatey sludge that forms from the crumbly cookie parts, you will instead be met with a delicious cottage cheesy substance from the disintegrating cream.  

     You will revel in watching the happiness on your child's face as they scarf down 10 times their daily sugar allowance in 1 cookie.

     We then thought "Hey, dumbass, if 20 times the cream is 20 times better than a normal Oreo, then why not just get rid of that damn cookie all together?"  For everyone that ever said, "You know, these chocolate cream cookies would be pretty freakin' good if that chocolate cookie didn't get in the way,"  it's new Oreo Jus'Stuf®.

                                        

     That's right.  Our vanilla adjacent, whitish cream-like substitute comes right from our semi-clean factory vat, pumped into pastry bags ready to be squirted directly into your little loved one's mouth without all of the hassles of opening and discarding the outer cookie.  

     You will say "DELICIOUS!" but after a few rounds of our product, it will probably sound more like "DELITHYUTH!" depending on your dental plan (Oreo is not responsible for cavities or extreme hyperactivity).