To shove a pretzel rod

Recently, a psychologist-to-be-named later published excerpts from diaries kept by teens into their adulthood. His point: with a little love and/or support people can change their destiny. Here are two of the most interesting excerpts:

Diary entry page of teen #173
Looked out the window today and felt a tremendous need to blow something up. In the Captain’s chest in the attic, next to the dead ferret, I found a box of balloons from my eleventh birthday party. Remembered when I tried to blow one up and exploded my left eyeball. Felt light headed. Had to sit down.

Eleventh birthday was bad. Coke instead of Pepsi. Candles on the pizza, melted wax on the pepperoni. Big gift: A crappy pogo stick. Bawled out for saying crappy.

I dreamed last night that I strangled Rocco my stuffed amoeba. I’m sick of him never saying anything, just staring at me with that dumb look on his face.

Checked the mail. Still no sniper scope. Guess I’ll work on my manifesto. It needs some darkening up.

Diary entry of teen #12
Looked out the window today and felt a tremendous need to shout what a wonderful world this is. In the back of the closet I found my old pogo stick. What fun. I hopped all the way to the bookstore to get a copy of “Lives of the Saints.”

And to think I got the pogo stick in trade for my boring chemistry set from the screwball kid across the street. Very weird kid. Still wears the eye-patch from the accident at his eleventh birthday party. I had a great time. Plenty of Coke and the pizza had pepperoni flavored wax. Yum.

I dreamed last night I ate a large, maple sugar statue of Sister Rotunda. Whoa, where did that come from? Checked the mail. Still no word on my seminary application. Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Think I’ll work on my Facebook profile. It needs even more cheery and unrealistic optimism about the world’s desperate problems.

At this point, writes Dr. Artillery O’Sclerosis (psychologist to be re-named later) teen #173 was on track for Madman of the Year. Teen #12 had a bright future as a suck-up weasel. Then, with a little love and a winning $100 million power ball ticket, they both turned it around. Can you guess who got stuck with the love?

Diary entry of adult #12
Looked out the window today and felt a tremendous need to blow something up. Told Buley to shut down the pretzel rod plant and start up the peanut butter and pickle chip operation.

Had to fire the pretzel people because they wouldn’t know a pickle from a piccolo. Got rid of them all. God, that felt good.

Mom called. Hung up on her. Still burned about that Christmas when all I got was a plenary indulgence and socks. That was the moment I mentally fired my parents. I was sick of being the goody goody. I wanted to be like the one-eyed kid across the street. That kid had marbles.

Diary entry of adult #173
Looked out the window today and felt a tremendous need to explode in laughter. Taking my new helicopter out later to survey the ranch. Moving next week to my new mansion in Hollywood.

Saw an ambulance taking the guy across the street to the hospital. Weird guy. Apparently one of the people laid off from his pretzel plant tried to shove a pretzel rod…I’m back. Had to answer the doorbell. It was the delivery guy with my new glass eye. Looks just like a marble. Cool beans.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2015, all rights reserved.

This entry was posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of) and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to To shove a pretzel rod

  1. John Hennigan says:

    Artillery O’Sclerosis. Love that name.


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