From the Meade County Messenger, Nov. 3, 2004
By Jacob Bennett
Sunday
Dear Diary,
Man, I love my days off. I didn't get out of bed all day, except to let the dog out. The whole day was a blur of football and video games and girlie magazines.
My throat was a little sore when my dog woke me up. I told Mom about it when I called her. She put my sore throat in perspective: "You need to see a doctor. It could be West Nile."
I'd been looking for a reason to call in tomorrow anyway. Looks like I have one.
Monday
The germs swimming in my veins gave my white blood cells The People's Elbow. My head hurts, my throat throbs like a hammer-hit thumb, and my sinuses are draining like a bathtub.
I tried to send my dog for help like Lassie, but she just sat on the floor, licking her foot. I hadn't planned on moving, but I stumbled to my car for a trip to the store--I was out of Kleenexes and Tussin. In my condition, that's like Lee Majors being out of bionic parts.
Tuesday
I wanted to save some sick days for when I felt like playing hooky, so I clocked in this morning. Lumbergh told me I should see a doctor if I still wasn't feeling well. I thought the guy was genuinely concerned, but he took a pin to my balloon. "I don't need you making the rest of us sick," he said.
The alcohol in the Tussin was getting to me. I changed the words to a Weird Al song about a hamster to make it a song about my dog.
"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie the mini schnauzer. She doesn't bite, and she doesn't squeal, she just runs around on her schnauzer wheel. Sophie, Sophie, Sophie the mini schnauzer! Hey, Sophie!"
Wednesday
If my white blood cells were a military, they'd definitely be France. I spent most of the morning sprawled on the couch, drooling into the cushions.
I finally paid the doctor an office call. It was a sinus infection, not West Nile. But she told me not to work the rest of the week, at the risk of death.
Thursday
Twitched.
Friday
I don't know how vultures got into my apartment, but they've been circling my mattress all day.
I sang more songs about my dog. "There goes my dog Sophie, there's another diamond ring. And all those late-night promises, I guess they don't mean a thing."
Saturday
The dog ate my porn. I was too sick to stop her.
I saw a white light, all my dead relatives were there, and John Ritter.
"Come to us, my son," Ritter said.
I shrugged my shoulders. "What the heck, "I thought, and headed to the light.
But then my phone rang.
It was Lumbergh, telling me I had to come in right away for a hot story. The doctor's words echoed in my head.
"But I have West Nile," I said. "If I work, I'll die."
"We'll give you some comp time."
With a quick wave from John Ritter, the light went out.
Columnist Jacob Bennett never knew how much he loves you, never knew how much he cares. When you put your arms around him, he gets a fever thats so hard to bear. You give him fever--fever when you kiss him, fever when you e-mail him at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com. Fever in the morning, fever all through the night.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Better Safe Than Sorry With Wife Insurance
From the Evansville Courier & Press and the Meade County Messenger, July 2006
I have to keep the wife alive for at least a few more days.
Hopefully, she'll live several more decades and she'll see me grow old and incontinent and cranky enough to sit on the porch to throw apples at neighbor kids. But if she has to go early, hopefully it's after the first of the month.
That's when her first-ever life insurance policy goes into effect. After that, if something bad happens, such as a wolverine attack, I'll be inconsolable -- but I'll be rich.We got hitched a couple of weeks ago (it was a nice ceremony, by the way, other than some confusion on when I may now kiss the bride and some profane drawings on my car made of whipped cream and M & Ms; as for the honeymoon, the Big Apple is a peach).
So I just turned in the paperwork to change my benefits after that "qualifying life event," as the insurance company suits so sweetly call holy matrimony. For the first time, she'll have vision, dental, health.
Not only is her life insured, she can get her teeth cleaned.
And if she accidentally catches the bird flu -- provided it happens next month -- I'll be able to afford to give her a proper memorial.And maybe to buy a yacht with a plasma TV.
I'd better call her and tell her to be extra careful, at least for a while.
Shoot. She's not answering the phone. I hope she's OK.
I could have had my wife insurance go into effect today, but I put it off because I'm cheap as a Times Square hot dog.
I was gonna go home for the weekend, but now we'll probably stay here. Maybe I'll go pick up some movies, and I'll let her sit on the couch so she can, um, rest. Better safe than sorry, when it comes to rest.
Come to think of it, I shouldn't have let her cut the cake -- that knife was sharp. I shouldn't have let her get on the plane to New York. Or ride the subway. Or offer to go get me some ice cream in the middle of the night from Hell's Kitchen.
Heck, she could have choked on one of those black and white cookies, or broken her head trying to get her mouth around a giant Stage Deli sandwich.Wow, I just remembered I need to change the batteries in the smoke detector.
It'd be a tragedy to lose her now, not just because she's still uninsured but because we just got some killer new appliances. Honestly, you haven't lived until you've had toast that gets warm uniformly. So that's not how I want to strike it rich. Losing a pinky toe for accidental death and dismemberment insurance, that wouldn't be too bad.
Losing a wife, that would be tragic. Not as tragic if it happens after the first of the month.
But pretty tragic.
Columnist Jacob Bennett will buy you a diamond ring if it makes you feel alright. He may not have a lot to give but what he got he'll give to you from jacobmbennett@hotmail.com.
I have to keep the wife alive for at least a few more days.
Hopefully, she'll live several more decades and she'll see me grow old and incontinent and cranky enough to sit on the porch to throw apples at neighbor kids. But if she has to go early, hopefully it's after the first of the month.
That's when her first-ever life insurance policy goes into effect. After that, if something bad happens, such as a wolverine attack, I'll be inconsolable -- but I'll be rich.We got hitched a couple of weeks ago (it was a nice ceremony, by the way, other than some confusion on when I may now kiss the bride and some profane drawings on my car made of whipped cream and M & Ms; as for the honeymoon, the Big Apple is a peach).
So I just turned in the paperwork to change my benefits after that "qualifying life event," as the insurance company suits so sweetly call holy matrimony. For the first time, she'll have vision, dental, health.
Not only is her life insured, she can get her teeth cleaned.
And if she accidentally catches the bird flu -- provided it happens next month -- I'll be able to afford to give her a proper memorial.And maybe to buy a yacht with a plasma TV.
I'd better call her and tell her to be extra careful, at least for a while.
Shoot. She's not answering the phone. I hope she's OK.
I could have had my wife insurance go into effect today, but I put it off because I'm cheap as a Times Square hot dog.
I was gonna go home for the weekend, but now we'll probably stay here. Maybe I'll go pick up some movies, and I'll let her sit on the couch so she can, um, rest. Better safe than sorry, when it comes to rest.
Come to think of it, I shouldn't have let her cut the cake -- that knife was sharp. I shouldn't have let her get on the plane to New York. Or ride the subway. Or offer to go get me some ice cream in the middle of the night from Hell's Kitchen.
Heck, she could have choked on one of those black and white cookies, or broken her head trying to get her mouth around a giant Stage Deli sandwich.Wow, I just remembered I need to change the batteries in the smoke detector.
It'd be a tragedy to lose her now, not just because she's still uninsured but because we just got some killer new appliances. Honestly, you haven't lived until you've had toast that gets warm uniformly. So that's not how I want to strike it rich. Losing a pinky toe for accidental death and dismemberment insurance, that wouldn't be too bad.
Losing a wife, that would be tragic. Not as tragic if it happens after the first of the month.
But pretty tragic.
Columnist Jacob Bennett will buy you a diamond ring if it makes you feel alright. He may not have a lot to give but what he got he'll give to you from jacobmbennett@hotmail.com.
Gamma Radiation Makes Life Dumb and Dumber
From the Meade County Messenger, January 2006
By Jacob Bennett
It's a good thing Rick Jones didn't drive his jeep onto the base when it was my turn to test my gamma bomb.
My doctor says I'm stressed and need an antidepressant. Stress hadn't occurred to me—I thought it was bird flu, not a case of The Shining.
I thought it'd be funny to make a list of everything that stresses me out during the day. But it turns out I would have needed five columns just to name the things that would make me Hulk Out before I get to work, starting with the sound of my clock alarm.
Deep breath, here goes…
* At least let me get my hair rinsed before the water goes cold.
* Sophie, this way, Sophie. No, this way. This way. Sophie!
* Come on, Cleveland, we just need 10 yards.
* If you want to make a payment, press one. For our billing address, press two. If you'd like to speak to a customer service representative, press three.
* Due to a higher than usual volume of calls, current wait time is 20 minutes. (They say that stuff every time.)
· * "My Name is Earl" will not be seen tonight due to a special 90-minute episode of "Biggest Loser."
· * What's the deal with airplane peanuts?
* "Jacob, so-and-so made me so mad at work today. Listen to this…"
· * All my CDs skip as if they were on Jam Master Jay's turntables: "She just loves my big 10 inch recor—rec—rec—recrecrecrecrecrec."
· * I wish I wasn't always wearing these gray sweatpants every time I see hot girls walking their dogs. Not only do they think I'm gay for walking a mini schnauzer, but I'm the Gay Guy Always Wearing Those Gray Sweatpants.
· * Amount due: $154. Peak hours overage: 80.
· * Why doesn't Joey Porter get penalized for picking a fight with the other team before every Steelers game? Geez!
But doc says an antidepressant might make me feel better. That sounds like a good idea. Actually, I just saw a commercial for it during "Dumb and Dumber" (Right before I flipped out—why couldn't they just get on the bus?!).
There'd be a low risk of sexual side effects (no harm there). And seizures. And, my antidepressant might make me depressed. And possibly suicidal.
But the people in the commercial looked so unstressed. And gamma-free.
Columnist Jacob Bennett is gonna try anything that just feel better. Tell him what to do at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com. You know he can't see through the haze around him at myspace.com/jacobmbennett. And he'd do anything to just feel better.
By Jacob Bennett
It's a good thing Rick Jones didn't drive his jeep onto the base when it was my turn to test my gamma bomb.
My doctor says I'm stressed and need an antidepressant. Stress hadn't occurred to me—I thought it was bird flu, not a case of The Shining.
I thought it'd be funny to make a list of everything that stresses me out during the day. But it turns out I would have needed five columns just to name the things that would make me Hulk Out before I get to work, starting with the sound of my clock alarm.
Deep breath, here goes…
* At least let me get my hair rinsed before the water goes cold.
* Sophie, this way, Sophie. No, this way. This way. Sophie!
* Come on, Cleveland, we just need 10 yards.
* If you want to make a payment, press one. For our billing address, press two. If you'd like to speak to a customer service representative, press three.
* Due to a higher than usual volume of calls, current wait time is 20 minutes. (They say that stuff every time.)
· * "My Name is Earl" will not be seen tonight due to a special 90-minute episode of "Biggest Loser."
· * What's the deal with airplane peanuts?
* "Jacob, so-and-so made me so mad at work today. Listen to this…"
· * All my CDs skip as if they were on Jam Master Jay's turntables: "She just loves my big 10 inch recor—rec—rec—recrecrecrecrecrec."
· * I wish I wasn't always wearing these gray sweatpants every time I see hot girls walking their dogs. Not only do they think I'm gay for walking a mini schnauzer, but I'm the Gay Guy Always Wearing Those Gray Sweatpants.
· * Amount due: $154. Peak hours overage: 80.
· * Why doesn't Joey Porter get penalized for picking a fight with the other team before every Steelers game? Geez!
But doc says an antidepressant might make me feel better. That sounds like a good idea. Actually, I just saw a commercial for it during "Dumb and Dumber" (Right before I flipped out—why couldn't they just get on the bus?!).
There'd be a low risk of sexual side effects (no harm there). And seizures. And, my antidepressant might make me depressed. And possibly suicidal.
But the people in the commercial looked so unstressed. And gamma-free.
Columnist Jacob Bennett is gonna try anything that just feel better. Tell him what to do at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com. You know he can't see through the haze around him at myspace.com/jacobmbennett. And he'd do anything to just feel better.
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