“Do I always look that scared?” Well, Wally, you did seem to brighten momentarily at the prospect of “something frisky”. But a man’s gotta eat, which means grocery shopping, which, for you, means venturing out of the Green Zone.
Children’s Motrin: like Colt 45, it works every time. Robbie’s out like a light, and now Mom gets to enjoy a little “me” time. And we, the readers, are subjected to “TB time”, in which years either pass by in a day, or, more likely, a single day can last a week or more. Guess that slip of paper from Becky wasn’t a hit man’s phone number, but a web address. Gee: do you think it was anything to do with puppies?
A reader named Ray commented on an earlier post, and I thought it was worth “bumping” his comment to today’s post because it’s pretty astounding:
Ray
November 9, 2010 at 7:18 pmIf I had to guess, the “Funky Fedora” is being tipped to [Susan Cash, marketing manager of KSU Press, and Mickey Ciriello, owner of Luigi’s Restaurant in Akron] from when TB had his book signing for “The Other Shoe” at Luigi’s (in 2007). Seems like a long time has passed to offer said thanks, but who am I to judge?
A tip o’ the SoSF derby to you, Ray, for this mind-blowing bit of information! -TFH
Single mom Rache returns home to her tiny-handed little fella and tells him to get ready for dinner (“Awww, Mom, pizza again?”). She discovers the note from Becky that she’s thoughtlessly stuffed in her apron pocket. Her bleary eyes behold a scrawled phone number. Turns out Becky’s idea of helping Rachel “watch out for her ex-man” involves a hit man from Cuyahoga Falls who can make the job look like a suicide…
Rachel is still cleaning up the remnants of Les-a-palooza when in walks the other member of the Wally’s Women Support Group. She has some information for Rachel…who shows her appreciation by stuffing that information into the pocket of her greasy apron, without even “checking it out”. Unfazed by Rachel’s indifference, Becky departs, but not before tossing out a lame comic-book reference.
Oh thank God we are out of that pizza parlor. Would that we could get away from The Grounded One as well. His star trip on hold for the moment, Les has time for a koffee klatch with his dysfunctionally-married co-workers Linda and Bull Bushka. Les’ casual greeting to Bull is met with a disjointed string of coachspeak non-sequiturs; it’s like those creepy Bing “search overload” commercials. Having tasted the spotlight after the Scapegoats ended their 20-year football losing streak vs. Big Walnut Tech, Bull wants to be ready for the media swarm that’s sure to accompany the defending state champs of girls’ basketball. He really should just concentrate on sitting at the table without spilling coffee all over himself.
Son of Stuck Funky 
