The Bruceman

The death trap

Julia, Kimmy, Dan, Nicole, and I arrived in Jamaica last Wednesday, excited about the warm weather and the fun few days ahead of us. We waited for our shuttle in Montego Bay Airport, sipping on cold Red Stripes and getting ready for the next step of our journey--a 1.5 hour ride to Negril.

Our driver was a jolly Jamaican man named Clarkey. Mid-way through the drive, we were all staring out the window in awe of the pristine coast line when Clarkey announced that we were about to drive across "the death trap." Next thing we know, the bus is seemingly on two wheels and we hear a terrible scraping noise. Julia and I look out the back window of our shuttle to see several construction workers chasing us with their mouths hanging open...

The tire strapped to the bottom of the bus had fallen off and was laying in the middle of the road. We were stranded. But we all calmly sipped our beers, cracked up at the randomness of it all, and offered the men the ultimate thank-you present: 100-calorie snack bars.

Clarkey is a rare jewel on this earth. We will never forget him.

Animal Thug!

me: dave pennell's little sister is planning a BIRDSBORO BAR TOUR

Jess said she hopes Animal Thug is there

do u remember him?!

he'd do push ups in the hallway of schooland having milk chugging contests... with himselfAgatha: What was his real name?

me: i always thought Animal Thug was his real name

11:04 AM Agatha: Animalayus Thugowsky

me: he's apparently of Greek and Russian decent

Get away from me with your piss arm

Larry just called me into his office, acting like he had something very important to tell me. He did.

"I gave a urine sample at the doctor this morning. I pissed on my arm."

Now every time I see him, he's sniffing his cuff.

"Do I smell like pee?"

Best Person to Help With the DVD

Yesterday's office holiday party was straight-up an episode of "The Office." The president of the company donned a strange wig, spoke through a tube, and developed a weird English/Boston accent to present Dundee-style awards. I won "Best Person to Help With the DVD" since I busted a DVD player in the office recently. I will cherish the honor forever.

Larry accepting his "Biggest Baby" award.

Larry rockin' the jew fro

Make Your Own Larry Platt Doll

Hey Kids! Make Your Own Larry Platt Doll!

Step One: Ask mom for an egg.

Step Two: Draw two dots for eyes, a flat line for a mouth and a little "U" for a nose.

Step Three: Grab the brown marker and draw two eyebrows and a pathetic attempt at a goatee.

Step Four: Add some glasses and some side stubble to Larry's noggin and you're done!

Larry says: "You did real good, kid! I like the cut of your jib!"

Perm rods

Larry has a picture of himself with perm rods in his hair (from back when he had hair), and in it he's sporting the creepiest porn-stache you ever did see. He keeps this picture in his wallet. He keeps a picture of himself--with perm rods in his hair--in his wallet. That's all I have to say about that.

An ode to The Wild Child

It's time to talk about Julia Edwards. A Carol Bashore-in-training? Bhahah

Julia is one my best friends from college, and she is nothing short of ridiculously awesome. In college, we referred to her as "The Wild Child," but she has calmed substantially in the past few years. Nevertheless, prior to leaving for Jamaica, she announced that this trip will be "The Return of the Wild Child." Girl did not disappoint.

Julia is a champagne FIEND. After my funny (?) but un-touching wedding toast ("I knew Jeff was in love when he traded in his beer belt for a collared shirt and skipped happy hour to take Mel out to dinner...") Julia scoured the reception site for un-consumed flutes of champagne. She even convinced the father-of-the-bride to give her his. About six glasses later, Julia was wearing a red sparkly headband Rambo-style and dancing like a wild woman.

A conversation that occurred shortly after between Julia and one of the servers:

Julia: Is this taco salad?

Server: No mon, that's goat cheese salad. We're in Jamaica, not Mexico.

Two hours later, everyone was jumping in the pool in their outfits from the wedding. Julia, in a moment of clarity, worried about jumping in and ruining her dry clean-only dress. "I need to ask a mom what to do!" she ran around shouting. Of all the moms there, of course she asked Jeff's mom, Carol.

Carol: Just take off your clothes.

Julia: I don't want to look like a tramp.

Carol: You won't. Just do it.

And with that, Julia stripped down to her skivvies and jumped in the pool. Carol followed close behind.

Julia in her Wild Child days, wearing her infamous "Free Paris" tank, which she made while Paris Hilton was in jail for about 13 hours.

The prop bag

Jeff's mom, Carol, brought an ENTIRE suitcase FULL of gags and props to Jamaica. Mid-wedding reception, Carol kicked off her shoes, put on a wig, and jammed out on her blow-up guitar.

That is not a midget on the right. It's Mel's little brother, Brian. It would have been pretty hilarious if Carol had brought midgets too.

While swimming in the pool one afternoon, she started squirting me with water... from a syringe she had stolen from her dentist and packed in her prop-filled suitcase.

I would have given anything for that suitcase to have been searched at the airport. Imagine the security guard's face when he pulled out four fake moustaches and an axe made of tin foil.

It's urine... mine personally

I'm baaaaack! After a lovely five-day vacation in Jamaica (and Mel and Jeff's wedding!!!), I am back at work. This office has never looked more "Office Space"-like.

So Jeff's mom, Carol, was a total nutcase in Jamaica. I love her. Some of my favorite Carol conversations are as follows:

Carol, to everyone, while we waited for our Bob Marley shots: "Did you know that the top layer of that shot is urine? It is. And it's mine personally. Just for you."

Carol to Julia, with a wide grin on her face, as everyone said goodbye: "Nice to meet you, Julia, you slut."

Jeff's aunt: "What's the dress code for happy hour tonight?"

Carol: "NUDE."

The gateway hoard

Our art director loves A&E shows... so much so that he's recently convinced himself that he's one step away from becoming a hoarder. Yet, he has one of the cleanest offices here. He just uttered the following:

"I'm really worried I might turn into one of those people on Hoarders. First, its the shopping bags, then the 20 years of Martha Stewart Living... and pretty soon I've got rotting pumpkins and flattened animals. It's scary. Aaron [his boyfriend] said to me last night, ' A shopping bag filled with shopping bags is the gateway hoard.' I'm in trouble."

Really white trash

A conversation at yesterday's morning meeting:

Senior Editor: My eye has really been bothering me.

Executive Editor: When will we have copy for Bob's January--

Fabulous and Gay Art Director, completely cutting off Exec Editor: Ew! I hope you don't have pink eye. That is SUCH a WHITE TRASH thing to have.

SE: Ummm...

F&GAD: SERIOUSLY. Really white trash...