Mama Celeste Canonized as Patron Saint of Giving Up

Posted on by Krissy Howard

VATICAN CITY — Local personal pizza and source of calories for millions, Mama Celeste, was canonized into sainthood during a small ceremony earlier today and is now to be revered as the Patron Saint of Giving Up on Pretty Much Everything, weeping sources confirmed.

“For years, Mama Celeste has been a beacon of light in the darkness for many,” stated Catholic Church head Pope Francis. “Sad, braless people in pants with no buttons have shuffled down the frozen food sections of grocery stores in search of an answer time and again, and have always been able to depend on the warm, inviting smile and sparsely decorated cheese shavings of a Celeste pizza for one. Calling them toward her with the giant, orange $.99 sticker somewhere on the front of the box, many a hungry soul found 10 to 15 minutes of satiation.”

Saint Celeste followers were indifferent to the news, much like many things in their barely functional lives.

“I know I need food to survive or my body will start eating itself or something, but most of the time I’m not willing to do anything more than tear off plastic with my teeth and toss something right on the oven rack, no baking sheet or any of that shit,” said sad person Valeri Estep. “Fortunately, those are the entire cooking instructions for one of those little pizzas, without which I probably wouldn’t be standing here today. Those red and green reconstituted peppers on the deluxe are likely the only source of vitamins I get, and I know they are protecting me.”

The Catholic Church recently announced plans to welcome additional figures into sainthood.

“In addition to Saint Celeste, we intend to honor others who have been leaned on in times of great need,” Church spokesperson Leona Peretti explained. “Set of Ankle Weights is now the Patron Saint of Failed New Year’s Resolutions, and to stick with our on-brand theme of internalized guilt, The $10 Birthday Check from Your Grandmother will be canonized as the Patron Saint of Meaning to Call But Have Just Been So Busy.”

At press time, a devout Saint Celeste follower was seen on her knees under the light of a microwave oven heating a tiny pizza, seemingly too shitfaced to stand up.

Photo courtesy of NBC26.

You Know What WebMD? You’re The One With Crohn’s

Posted on by Ryan Danley

Look at Mr. WebMd, acts like such a smarty pants. But let’s get real: you’re a one-trick pony. I am a little tired? Oh, you have Crohn’s. I have an ache in my shoulder? Shit, probably Crohn’s. My friend left me on read. Most definitely fucking Crohn’s! You know what, if you love Crohn’s so much, MAYBE YOU’RE THE ONE WITH CROHN’S!

The other day I went out and felt super bloated. I could barely make it through a store without a very embarrassing moment. And so I went home, hoping to get some information that would help me out. And WebMD goes with the ole standby.

You know how much I would love to get a reading of Ulcerative Colitis? Or maybe a Chronic Fatigue. Hell, let’s go crazy and offer a freaking Vasculitis, just to mix things up. But nope! Crohn’s again.

You know what, WebMD? I think you’re projecting your shit on to me. Your server lagged for a minute? Must be Crohn’s. You got a little backlogged on new data? FUCKING CROHN’S! This is so clearly a cry for help.

So WebMD, how about this? Figure out what’s going on with you before you start trying to help out other people. Someone so clearly hiding from their own problems has no business telling me why I shit my pants at PetSmart. I’m tired of being your Crohn’s whipping boy. I’m tired of carrying your emotional baggage. Maybe I’m also a little tired from lack of sleep. Wait, don’t tell me. Is sleeplessness a sign of Crohn’s as well? Goddammit.

WebMd, I don’t think this is working out. I’ve been in far too many relationships where I’ve been led astray. Maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re so preoccupied with fucking telling everyone they have Crohn’s that you can’t even see the real me. The tired, bloated, achy, full of fissures, unexplained weight loss sufferer standing right next to you. But don’t worry about me. I got this. Maybe I’ll just go to a real doctor. How about that?

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Fine, I have Crohn’s.

James Iha Leaves Silversun Pickups After Realizing They’re Not Smashing Pumpkins

Posted on by Jake Menez

LOS ANGELES — Longtime Smashing Pumpkins guitarist, James Iha, abruptly announced this week that he is parting ways with the band after realizing he had actually been playing in Silversun Pickups for the past few years, multiple sources confirm.

“I don’t know how this happened. Sure, there were a lot of songs I’d never heard before at rehearsal, but that wasn’t really a red flag,” Iha explained. “Everything else seemed exactly the same to me: the nasally singing, the distorted guitar riffs… I guess in hindsight, I should’ve known I was in the wrong band after I kept calling the bassist ‘D’arcy’ to no response. No wonder she kept giving me dirty looks.”

Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan also weighed in on the recent events.

“Honestly, I didn’t notice James wasn’t in the band, either. When you’re the creative genius holding it all together, you don’t always have time to get to know everyone,” Corgan said, relishing the opportunity to hear the sound of his own voice. “I know I have a reputation for being difficult to work for, I mean, work with, but that’s part of being an artist. The sacrifices I’ve made and all the hard work I’ve put into the band over the years to bring music to the fans has been — wait. Who were we talking about again?”

The remaining members of Silversun Pickups expressed regret over Iha’s decision to part ways with the band.

“It’s just a real shame,” lead singer Brian Aubert admitted. “Smashing Pumpkins are our heroes, and we’ve done our best to emulate them whenever possible, right down to the notion that we should do a few good albums before changing our sound and alienating our fans with mediocre albums after that. I’ve always said ‘Widow’s Weeds’ is our ‘Adore,’ so to get James on board just felt right. We always knew he’d leave the band eventually to keep the parallels going. I just wish I’d had a chance to have a falling out with him first.”

At press time, Iha was seen in the recording studio with Pearl Jam, seemingly unaware that he had made yet another mistake.

We Scheduled an Interview With Henry Rollins and J Mascis on the Same Day at the Same Time at the Same Restaurant and I Know This Is Crazy but I Think We Can Pull This Off

Posted on by Dan Rice

How could I have let this happen? I was just so excited that either of these guys was willing to talk with me that I didn’t realize my blunder until it was too late. I could try and reschedule one of them, but there was already so much back and forth I’m worried if I move one it will never happen. I suppose the right thing to do would be to hand one to another writer, but fuck that. These are both my dream interviews, and I refuse to choose.

Fuck it, I’m going for it. I’ll just say I have IBS or something so when I leave a lot to change from my J Mascis interview clothes to my Henry Rollins interview clothes and back it won’t be weird. Here goes nothing!

THE HARD TIMES: Mr. Mascis, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. Dinosaur Jr. was everything to me in college. 

J MASCIS: Cool man, always nice to meet a…

I have IBS. 

Oh. Uhm, okay. So, no interview? 

No no no! I just mean like, if I get up to go to the bathroom a lot, that’s why. It’s not weird, okay? 

Uhm, Okay. 

So J — can I call you J? Tell me about what influenced your trademark vocal-fry style of singing. 

Shh! Do you hear that? I know that voice. I think Henry Rollins is at this restaurant! Hey, you want me to go get him? We could do like a double interview or…

NO! Ah, no, no haha, sorry that’s just my uh…ah, my ringtone! Yeah, my ringtone is Henry Rollins, haha. Oh, look at that, Mom called again. She can wait. 

Didn’t sound like a song. It sounded like he was ordering food.

It’s spoken word.

Your ringer for when your Mom calls is Henry Rollins spoken word?

Yup. Anyway, gotta run to the bathroom J. Be right back! 

Cool, sure, whatever. 

I dive into the small fake plant garden in the center of the restaurant where I’ve stashed my change of clothes. As I remove the jeans, flannel shirt and Misfits t-shirt I chose to interview J Mascis in and put on the jeans, flannel shirt and Misfits t-shirt I choose for my Rollins interview, it occurs to me that I probably should have taken J Mascis up on his offer to get Rollins for a double interview. Would have solved all of my problems, actually. But, too late now. I’m in too deep and I gotta commit.

THE HARD TIMES: Mr. Rollins! Absolute honor to meet you. Love everything you do. 

HENRY ROLLINS: Well thank you very much. Woah, did you run here or something man? You’re all sweaty and out of breath! 

Haha oh, wow that’s funny. Uh, no. I have IBS. 

Oh. 

So, Mr. Rollins…

You can call me Hank.

Hank! Talk to me about what influenced your trademark vocal-fry style of singing.

Vocal-fry? That’s not really what I do. Kinda more of a J Mascis thing.

Fuck, wrong question! I mean, yeah, I was kidding! Obviously that question was intended for J Mascis. Who I hope to meet. Someday. 

He lives around here! If you want I can give him a call and see if he’ll come down for a double…

NO! Ah, no, haha, thank you. That’s really too much. What I meant to ask you was, what’s it like to be a renaissance man? 

Ha, well, that’s a little grandiose isn’t it? I’m not sure I would go around calling myself that. Is that just what we call any artist who does more than one thing now? Have we as a culture become so zombified and watered down that… Hey, wait a second. I think I hear J Mascis ordering food! We should…

NO! No, sorry, that’s my ringtone. Ugh, Mom, shut up already. It’s spoken word. 

J Mascis is doing spoken word now? 

IBS!

O…kay. 

I dive back to the plants. It is only now as I change back into my J Mascis interview clothes that I realize a wardrobe change was completely unnecessary. I must have seen it on a sitcom and not questioned it until just now. Of course, now that they’ve both seen me wearing different outfits, gotta stick to it. Can’t fuck this up!

THE HARD TIMES: Hey J, sorry about that.

J MASCIS: You changed your shirt.

What?

That’s not the same Misfits t-shirt you had on before.

I look down. He’s right. Fuck.

I have IBS.

Does that mean you shat on your t-shirt? 

What? No! I mean…Yes. That’s what happened. 

Oh. Well, good thing you had another Misfits t-shirt with you. 

Always do! So J, do you feel like your later-day musical output has finally outgrown the shadow of your time with Black Flag? 

I was never in Black Flag, man! You really got Rollins on the brain, huh? 

Fuck! No, I mean, what I meant to ask you is, does classic rock still influence your approach to guitar playing. 

Are you sure you’re okay?

IBS! 

Fuck, this just got so much more complicated. Okay, just remember: leave this t-shirt on when you go to change again for Mascis. You got this.

THE HARD TIMES: Sorry that took so long, Hank. 

HENRY ROLLINS: You changed your shirt.

What? 

Fuck, he’s right. Why the hell did I do that? I feel dizzy.

IBS. Talk about the way classic rock from the ’50s and ’60s influenced your guitar playing style. 

I don’t really play guitar, man. Did you shit on your shirt? 

No. I mean, sure. But what I meant was, in what ways are acting and fronting a band similar? 

Where did you find another Misfits t-shirt so fast? Something doesn’t add up here. 

IBS! 

Jesus. I can’t believe I fucked this up so bad so fast. Okay, no more mistakes. Let’s ditch this dumb t-shirt, put on the right one and head back. Hopefully J Mascis hasn’t bailed yet.

THE HARD TIMES: Sorry again J, you know how IBS can be. 

J MASCIS: That’s the shirt you shit on. 

What? 

You’re wearing the t-shirt you first had on. The one you said you shit on. 

You have to be fucking kidding me.

I can explain. 

Save it. I’m not doing an interview with a guy who wears shit-covered shirts. Those days are over for me. 

Okay look, cards on the table, Henry Rollins is here. I accidentally double-booked you guys, and I thought I could pull off the whole sitcom double-date thing. That’s why I kept changing my clothes. 

That doesn’t really explain why you changed your clothes. And how did you get lipstick all over your collar? 

I honestly don’t know. 

Okay, well, I guess I can respect the hustle. 

Why don’t I just come clean to Rollins, and maybe you guys can do that double interview? 

No way man! I know Hank, he hates liars! That’s why he wrote that song, “Liar.” If you tell him you’ve been lying this whole time he’s gonna flip out!

Shit! 

I’ve got an idea. Go back to interviewing Rollins. And remember, don’t change your t-shirt!

Right. 

There can be no mistakes this time. Here goes nothing.

THE HARD TIMES: Sorry for keeping you waiting, Hank.

HENRY ROLLINS: That’s the shirt you got shit on. 

What? Oh, god dammit, why did I listen to him? He didn’t know about the other fuck-ups! 

Just what in the hell is going on here?! 

I can explain everything. 

I have no idea what I’m going to say to Rollins, and it doesn’t matter because here comes J Mascis in an apron with a drawn-on mustache for some reason?

J MASCIS: Good ev-a-ning Messieurs, may I int-a-rest anyone in our fabulous tasting menu? 

J Mascis winks at me, but his face changes expression quickly, as if suddenly he cannot remember why he thought this would work, or what he thought it would accomplish in the first place.

HENRY ROLLINS: We already ordered. And this is not a french restaurant. And you’re J Mascis from Dinosaur Jr. 

Rollins turns to me slowly with cold, enraged eyes. There is no doubt about it. He knows everything. I shamefully remove the wig I’ve been wearing this entire time for some reason. Without breaking my gaze he slowly reaches for his wine glass, holds it up a moment, then throws the wine into my face.

HENRY ROLLINS: Enjoy interviewing yourself tonight. You’re a real pig, you know that? Come on J, we’re outta here. 

Rollins storms off indignantly. Mascis shrugs and follows him. I blew it. I am crestfallen. My best friend, a nerdy teenage inventor from Chicago, sits down to comfort me.

STEVE URKEL: Look on the bright side, buddy. At least you didn’t really shit yourself! 

Immediately upon hearing Urkel say this, my real IBS flares up.

THE HARD TIMES: Check please! 

Marjorie Taylor Greene Breaks Fundraising Record After Posting Video of Herself Eating Medical Waste and Shitting on Photo of the Clintons

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

WASHINGTON — Far-right conspiracy theorist and representative for Georgia’s 14th congressional district, Marjorie Taylor Greene, exceeded previous fundraising efforts after posting a disturbing video in which she ate medical waste and defecated on a photo of the Clintons, Washington insiders confirmed.

“The American people are sick and tired of being told what to do by our tyrannical government led by terrorist Democrats,” said the controversial politician in an Instagram Live video late yesterday evening. “In order to prove to you that there is nothing to fear, I broke into the basement of a nearby hospital and I’m going to eat a bunch of green goo I found in a dumpster. Also, the Clintons eat babies, and I’ve got a monster turd brewing that I plan on dropping right on their faces. Stay tuned.”

Supporters of the polarizing Georgia lawmaker were compelled to contribute to Representative Greene’s reelection campaign after seeing the footage.

“She’s the only politician who seems like a normal person. I devour random gunk I see in trash cans all the time, and it’s refreshing to see a person I could see myself eating chemicals within a position of authority,” said Wisconsin native Arnie Chaulk. “COVID has really hit me and my family hard, so donating money to anyone is tough. But as soon as I saw her rip a complete monster heat spike onto that photo of Bill and Hillary, I knew I had to do the right thing.”

Political watchdog groups noted that much of her fundraising came from standard, hardcore Republican supporters, rather than grassroots efforts.

“Some people see the numbers MTG is pulling in and think this is a groundswell of support, but the truth is she’s just getting dark money from the same Republican backers as anyone else. She would have made that money without poisoning herself,” said analyst Andreas Medico. “The social media posts where she drinks gasoline and claims her fire farts will extinguish the left are good for riling up her base, but those people aren’t even sending her that much money, if at all. She could just do normal, more human things and still clean up. I think she sort of just likes being a monster.”

Greene closed her latest video by promising she will eat the dead fox by the river near her house raw if she meets her next fundraising goal.

Hey There Delilah, I’m Writing About Your Vehicle’s Extended Warranty

Posted on by Ben Friedman

Hey there Delilah, I’m writing to you about your vehicle’s extended warranty. I’m a thousand miles away, but I’ve sent you several letters that you’ve yet to extend your warranty past the factory’s cutoff date. I bet you look so good tonight, however, I haven’t heard back since you moved to New York City, so I’m writing you a final courtesy song before I assume you’ve moved on.

Delilah, don’t you worry about the distance, as this warranty will cover your vehicle up to 100,000 miles. For quality assurance purposes, give this another listen and tell me the year, make, and model of your vehicle. Just close your eyes and listen to how I can help you protect your vehicle beyond what the factory can provide.

I know times are hard but believe me girl, one day you’ll extend the warranties of all your vehicles and then you won’t have to worry about the bills from maintenance costs. If you have other cars you want to add, I can do that. My word is good.

I know a thousand miles is far and there are planes and trains, and walking is an option. But driving is still the best mode of transportation, and you can’t risk your friends making fun of you for not protecting yourself from costly repairs. Delilah, I can promise you that by the time we get through processing your non-refundable payment of $250 down and 18 payments of $150, your power-train warranty will never be the same.

It’s not what you do to me that’s important — it’s what you do to ensure your vehicle is covered. In two more years you’ll be done with school, and you’ll still have two years left on your extended coverage.

Please write back the number 2 to be removed from this contact list, or write back 4 to be transferred to another hometown ex-boyfriend to review and purchase coverage.

New York Hardcore Scene to Organize Benefit Show for Victims of Last Benefit Show

Posted on by Freelancer

NEW YORK — A local hardcore scene was left to organize a benefit show for several hundred of the 3,000 people who attended their most recent benefit show last Saturday afternoon, according to sources.

“With the world just starting to open up, and mass vaccinations only recently being distributed, we figured what better time than right now to raise money for burn victims?” said local tough guy wearing a Black Flag Matters pin Johnny Nunez. “This is our life. This is our family. This right here is fucking hardcore, and to criticize our timing is basically persecution. Yeah, there’s a pansy-ass flu going around, and maybe a few people got sick at this show, but can you imagine how insane the pit is gonna be for the next benefit?”

Organizers of last Saturday’s event have already begun booking their next show to support attendees that contracted COVID-19 at the same event.

“In light of the recent events that took place at the show we put together, we feel the need to step up as a community and support the people who came out and who are now in the ICU. I’m not sure why everyone is so pissed off. A couple of the people that played the first show are vegan, so isn’t that enough to get a pass?” said scene veteran Jimmy “The Arsonist” Burns. “It’s up to us to show up for our community when no one else will, and we can’t think of any better way to do that than to invite thousands of people to slam, spit, stage dive, and scream directly in the face of common sense. PMA all day.”

Scene regulars recalled similar instances of benefit shows being held to support those victimized as a direct result of attending previous benefit shows.

“I remember a few years back when a pipe burst at a house over in Bushwick, so the house members threw a huge show to help pay for the clean up,” recalled Brooklyn resident Marissa Beautera. “When a ton of people got tetanus, athlete’s foot, and complications from electrocution, we were all like, ‘Well, are we gonna give up? Fuck no.’ We had no choice but to throw another show to help pay down some of the medical costs, fines from the city, and the water bill caused by that show. We raised $45 that day, and we’d do it again.”

When asked for a comment about enforcing COVID-19 restriction guidelines at the future show, one staff member remarked that they will have a rapid test tent set up on site — however, anyone that uses it is “a pussy.”

CDC Predicting Second Wave of Hearing From All Your Exes This Summer

Posted on by Lana Schwartz

ATLANTA — The combination of warmer temperatures and the accelerated vaccine rollout headed into Summer will lead to a sharp and dramatic increase of texts from previous romantic and sexual partners, CDC officials announced.

“We’ve crunched the numbers again and again, and there’s just no denying these projections,” said lead scientist Mark Leta. “We’re urging all Americans to take the following precautions in order to keep themselves safe: close their DMs, swipe left when they see former partners on dating apps, and attempt to limit their thirst trap posts to one per week. But no matter what we do, there’s going to be a lot of ‘How have you been lately?’ and ‘Saw this and thought of you’ and ‘What if we fucked lol’ texts in the air this summer, and we all have to be prepared for it.”

Multiple singles report that they don’t feel adequately prepared for another wave of exes reaching out and asking to “get coffee” or “meet up for a drink,” and that they’re only now recovering from the first wave of reconnecting.

“A lot of people don’t remember how bad it got during the first wave, how desperate and horny everyone was. It was really scary. I had exes from as far back as seven years ago texting me,” said Danielle Lewis, a single woman in her late 20s. “Sometimes, I would get three memes in one day. We’ve been left to fend for ourselves, and I really think the government needs to intervene more before this second wave gets out of control and someone ends up getting finger banged by their ex who still thinks skateboarding is cool even though he’s almost fucking 40.”

While President Biden has passed a $1.9 trillion stimulus bill that does include COVID relief, it does not appear to have earmarked within it any funding to protect vulnerable citizens from desperate exes trying to reconnect.

“We understand that people are anxious and nervous about what the future might hold,” said Marie Burns, a spokesperson for the President. “But there are some things that are a little out of hand. Get vaccinated, continue to wear a mask, and maybe just learn to block people. The government can’t really stop people from tearing their lives apart on a personal level.”

At press time, Instagram was reportedly down nationwide as millions of singles were letting their exes know they finally watched “The Sopranos.”

Cop Accidentally Shoots Self in Mouth After Mistaking Gun for Soup Spoon

Posted on by The Hard Times Staff

MIAMI — Local police officer Arnold Griffin, a 19-year veteran of the force, was cut down in the line of duty during his lunch break after mistaking his gun for a soup spoon, shocked witnesses confirmed.

“We take our lunch break at Lulu’s Diner every Tuesday since they’re one of the only places in town that don’t complain when officers leave without paying,” said Officer Griffin’s longtime partner Officer Steven Gedney. “It was a pretty routine day. We put our guns on the table to intimidate some of the back of house workers like we do every week. I don’t know what happened next. Officer Griffin must have been startled by a large shadow on the wall and accidentally grabbed his gun instead of the spoon. Since the soup was particularly hot on this day, he pulled the trigger. He was very well-trained in firearms and a seasoned soup eater, so this could have happened to anyone.”

Reforms are already being put in place so similar incidents don’t happen in the future.

“We are going to institute new lunch policies starting immediately to keep our officers safe. From now on, you will only be able to place batons on the table to intimidate community members. Our officers will be required to keep their guns holstered, and instructed to only gesture toward their weapon whenever they want to make a point,” said Police Chief Art Acevedo. “Furthermore, any restaurant employees that serve our officers food that is deemed too hot, or even too spicy, will immediately be charged with attempted murder. If the food is too cold, they will be charged with a different crime that carries a decent prison sentence, probably something like larceny. We are still working out the details.”

Some police groups think that even these moderate reforms will interfere with their ability to effectively do their jobs.

“Our boys in blue need the freedom to properly menace anyone they encounter. If officers are punished for pointing their guns at random people and making a throat slash motion with their other hand, then the world is going to go to shit,” said Doug Howland, leader of a pro-Blue social club. “They are given guns for a reason, and if you don’t use it, you lose it. It’s that simple. Bullets are only good for a few hundred years, so let’s make sure they aren’t going bad on the shelf.”

The black bean soup involved in Officer Griffin’s death is currently being held at the Miami-Dade Corrections & Rehabilitation Center without bail.

How I Came to Terms With the Fact That I Was Gaslighted by a Frog Who Only Sings and Dances When No One Else Is Around

Posted on by Dan Rice

I’m not going to tell you his name. He remains a very powerful frog in the industry, and I don’t want to deal with the repercussions of calling him out directly. I will say that your best educated guess of the frog I’m talking about is probably the right one. For my purposes, I will refer to him here only as M.J.

Look, if the image of a frog with a cane and top hat brings someone to mind then yes, it’s that one, okay?

I met M.J shortly after I moved to L.A., which I would later learn from other victims (so many others) was kind of his M.O. when choosing a mark. He liked them fresh, young, and naive. When he heard I was looking for a creative partner, he showed me what he could do and I was blown away! I remember thinking, “A frog who can sing and dance? Hot dog! I’m gonna be famous!” That’s when the games started.

Audition after audition, M.J refused to perform. Here I was, ranting and raving about this singing, dancing frog, and what would the producer see? An ordinary-looking frog. I was humiliated. Then, the second whoever we were auditioning for turned away, out came the top hat and cane! I would yell, “Look, he’s doing it! He’s doing it!” And as soon as they were back, M.J. would stop and let out a “ribbit” just to make me look crazy. To add insult to injury, as soon as we were kicked out the door M.J would resume his song from exactly where he left off.

Okay, I’ll say he is a frog from Michigan. Does that help?

I began to doubt my own sanity. Every time I mustered the self-respect to say, “This is crazy, my needs aren’t being met, I’m leaving,” he would give me the same song and dance. Literally, a song and dance number. He would tell me I was his “baby,” his “honey.” He could be so sweet — when it suited his purposes.

When things would get heated, he would say, “If you refuse me, honey you lose me, then you’ll be left alone,” and God help me, I believed him. My self-worth was so low at the time, my reality so warped by his lies, that I truly believed no one but this manipulative narcissistic frog could ever possibly love a person like me.

Okay, he’s named after the place he’s from. I really can’t say more.

Over time, he became more controlling. He would always call me his “Ragtime gal” which I believe was meant to invalidate my feelings. If I was leaving town for any extended period of time, I was to send him a kiss by wire. Telegrams are something of a novelty these days, and an expensive one at that, especially if you need the delivery person to kiss a frog. Eventually I couldn’t afford to have a social life, which is exactly what M.J. frog wanted.

Okay fine. Yes, it was Michigan J. Frog, alright?! THAT Michigan J. Frog, yeah. I hope my story inspires others to come forward, but I am putting all this behind me. I already have a new creative partner, a talking dog. I just need to convince him to say his favorite ball player was “DiMaggio” instead of “Ruth,” as this sounds suspiciously like “ruff.”