Archive for the ‘Six Degrees of Sarcastro’ Category

Don’t Beat On The Glass

March 10, 2007

This looks like a Norman Rockwell piece to me. Why? Because, I’m that full of myself this week.


After tonight, all baby and kid related updates will be over at When’s The Fun Part where they belong.

Note the look of icy contempt on the 9’s face. He was hamming it up to look tough for the camera. Either that, or we need to keep a close eye on him.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Sarcastro.


Just Doing My Part…

November 27, 2006

Got a letter yesterday from the little African child I sponsor.  He writes:

Dear Mr. Sarcastro,

Thank you so much for the $5 you sent me.  It will help us to buy food and medicine.  Maybe one day we will be able to have fresh water thanks to that daily 35 cents you so generously provide.  Until then, my brothers and I will continue to bathe in the trench that runs through our refugee camp.

You last letter was very informative.  Please send more tales of your adventures.  Everyone in our tent loved the story about the old woman in front of you at the grocery store.   I nearly spit out my stale cracker at the thought that someone inconvenienced you in such a manner.  Be assured, when I get to America I won’t be using a sack full of pennies to purchase foodstuffs, good sir.

Sorry to hear your Thanksgiving meal wasn’t "exciting" enough for you.  It is truly a shame that the massive amount of food that you jammed down your gullet was "boring".  The people from the charity gave us an extra serving of locusts to commemorate the Pilgrims doing something to the Indians.

That is great news about the little vegan girl.  She must be so proud of herself.  I look forward to hearing more of her struggles and triumphs in sticking to a strict regimen of not eating cheese and meat.  It’s been months since I’ve had cheese or meat and I feel great.  My little brother has never had meat.  Unless you count the flies who land in his mouth.  Kudos to you, good sir, for not using her brave choice as an opportunity to mock her.  If you have taught me anything over our correspondence, it is that what others do isn’t our business if it doesn’t affect us, and more importantly, it will theoretically mean more meat and cheese available for me.  Hurray vegans!  Now, I’ve never seen a fish, so I have no idea if they suffer.  Not to complain about my situation or anything, but there’s quite a bit of suffering going on here.  And not one goddamned fish.  So, whatever is happening with these fish, I would gladly trade places with it. 

I agree with you about the Amazing Race.  If those assholes come through here, I will totally be hiding in the trunk of whatever vehicle they have.  I don’t know where this race that is so amazing will take them, but it must be better than here.  Oh, and I hope those blonde bitches lose.  Or get captured by the Janjaweed.

By the way, your Janjaweed joke did not go over well.  They didn’t think it was a good name for a reggae band.  So they raped my little sister.  Again.

Looks like it is about to start raining AIDS, so I must say good bye. 

Your faithful sponsoree,

Wilbur "Lefty" Adewale, Jr.

Regrets, I’ve Had A Few

July 7, 2006

The WKRN thingy at the GEC was well worth attending.  However, I feel the need to issue some mea culpas concerning that event.

I Regret… 

Closing the elevator on Huck and giving it the half-assed Larry David move.

Making a dick joke at Kleinheider’s expense.

That I keep wanting to call Coble’s husband Matt instead of Tim.  It is kinda palindrome-y. 

Not spending more time with Jon Jackson, Rex L. Camino or Ceeelcee.

Failing to give Aunt B a Listerine Breath Strip when she needed one.

Introducing myself to Bob Krumm as Roger Abramson.

Introducing myself to Newscoma as Roger Abramson.

Introducing myself to Roger Abramson as The Real Roger Abramson. 

Not introducing myself at all to Blake Wylie, Jag, the Mommy Bloggers, and whoever else I missed chatting with.

Admitting that I don’t "get" Nemesisboy, other than as a Andy Kaufmanesque prankster.

Not introducing the Sugar Momma as Terry Frank. 

Making lame small talk with Gandalf Mantooth instead of something either substantive or offensive. 

Not wearing a name tag that said either "John Galt" or  Dennis Ferrier.

Expecting the BBQ to be as good as the Mothership’s.

Not sticking around longer, but It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia was about to come on. 



Ma’ Salaama, Mustafa

November 11, 2005

 Syrian born film producer, Mustafa Akkad was killed in the terrorist attacks on the Jordanian hotel industry.  His brother Sammy (short for Ousama), was my instructor back at the Defense Language Institute/Foreign Language Center.  Sammy was a good guy.  He liked to make jokes and drink a beer or two if it wasn’t Ramadan.  He was very proud of his brother’s accomplishments in Hollywood.    As part of our curriculum, Sammy would make sure we got to watch The Message.  A film about Mohammed the Prophet, that due to Muslim law, could not actually depict the image or voice of the prophet (or his immediate family) onscreen.  Needless to say you have to be pretty damn creative to figure out how to pull that one off. 

Sammy was very indulgent of our questions pertaining to his brother that would distract from learning Arabic like, "Is there going to be another Halloween movie" or "Is it true that Jamie Lee Curtis is a hermaphrodite?"

My condolences to Sammy, his family, and the people of Allepo, Syria for your loss. 

_41007206_akkad_ap203body.jpg Mustafa and his daughter Rima at her wedding.  She was also killed in the attack.