Hellidays - When Bad Holidays Happen To Good People

It was Memorial Day Weekend while I was still in college. A couple of girlfriends and I decided to go camping without ever having done so in the past. For starters, it was record heat—in the upper 90s. It was pretty uncomfortable. It took us about three hours to set up the tent. Which smelled of mildew. So, after that chore was done, we gladly took a swim in the lake. By that point, it was time for dinner. Of course we had to make our food over an open fire! My friend Dawn proceeded to pull a Woodrow the Woodsman and wildly wield a small ax against a fallen log so we could have firewood. About three strokes in, the ax came down with a sickening thud into her shin. A couple seconds later, the wound began pouring blood. The closest hospital... read more

One Passover seder, I was seated at the "kiddie table" (when I was 18) next to a small, slight, boy age 6. During the seder, prayers are recited in which you are asked to refill your wine glass several times.

At the kiddie table we got the cheap Magen David grape juice to share. Well, not knowing any better...I kept filling up this little boy's juice glass and told him to drink up! About 1/2 hour into the seder I noticed he was looking a little pale green as he slurped away on the juice. Two minutes after that he self-combusted and spewed everything (matzoh, apples and kugel) on my lap and all over the seder table.

Just before his family abruptly left, his mom confided that it was the acid in the juice that made him sick.

Ve... read more

My mom hates bad neighborhoods. She has arranged her life in such a way that she never needs to see graffiti, witness someone cashing that county check, or inhale the urban aroma of a burning car down the corner. A triple-digit street number, no matter where it is, renders her cross-eyed and mute, with a bit of a grin, because it just sounds bad.

So, one April Fool's day, I decided to pull a prank on her that would put motherly instincts squarely at odds with her ghetto phobia.

I called and said "yeah, how're ya doin....? Me...fine...well, not really FINE...we have some car trouble, so we're at a pay phone down at 111th and Emerald, and we need someone to come pick us up...can you get in the car and give us a ride?" I wasn't qui... read more

We had one of those giant inflatable Easter bunnies on our lawn. I know, they're stupid. But the kids loved it. Anyway, there was a huge thunderstorm about a week before Easter. Winds were gusting up to 50 mph. All of a sudden, the bunny was ripped from its moorings and went flying into the air. It found its way onto the power lines, caught fire in a lightning strike and shut the power off in the whole neighborhood for two days. I found charred bits of vinyl bunny all over the street for about three months. The neighbors almost crucified me. Pun intended.

A women I work with was at a raucous St. Patty’s Party downtown Chicago in the late 90s. She was doing shots, and dirty dancing with this guy from Ireland, whom she ended up taking back to her place. The two of them rock & rolled all night, and the next morning, as he slept it all off, she went to the corner to get them a Starbucks and a paper.

She came back about 30 minutes later to find her front door open, the water in her bathroom running, and the guy gone from where he had slept just 30 mins earlier.

Seems the robust Irish lad had a terrible case of explosive diarrhea in her bed, shooting a trail of thick-like-a-fine-stew saffron-colored poop over her comforter and sheets, and onto the wall about four feet away...he had then,... read more