Have you ever had Amish peanut butter? It’s a scourage to your mouth. The Amish, despite thinking shutters on a house are too garish for their lifestyle, have absolutely no problem adding marshmallow to fucking peanut butter.
I guffawed at this. Reminded me of growing up near Kalona, IA.
the old nutter flutter. yum
My aunt used to work at the Northwest Airlines desk at the Kalamazoo airport for many years. She had a lot of stories about famous people that came through there - many of whom behaved like assholes. Like Richard Burton who refused to show her his ID, claiming you know who I am!!!. She called the manager and wouldn’t let him board the plane. Her best story was when the Rolling Stones flew into town back in the 70’s and came through the airport. Another traveler came up to her desk at the terminal and complained because there were degenerates in the men’s room smoking something that smelled funny. She got a security guy to go in there and check and he found several of the Rolling Stones band sitting on the floor smoking a joint. The security guy just kind of told them to be cool and left. He came back and told my aunt about what was going on in there and they both laughed. I was reminded of this story when I was reading this story and one photo shows them smoking in the Gibson plant - where it was prohibited… but they let it go because the Stones.
I got bit by a dog once. I had met him before. He didn’t give off any warning signs. He was on a leash in my friend’s kitchen, sitting normally, and I was standing near by listening to someone. Out of nowhere he just leaned forward a bit and chomped down on my hand and my thigh.
This dog is a rescue dog whose owners made him his own Instagram page. Every time I’m on Instagram his account comes up as a suggestion and I think “There is the dog that bit me.”
I don’t tell people this story because on the few occasions that I have brought it up, I get asked what I did to make the dog bite me, and it was traumatizing enough. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable now than seeing a big dog near a small child’s face.
He gets so little credit. Fucking overshadowing Bill Murray Mother Fucker!
After reading about Saved by the Bell’s Dustin “Screech” Diamond’s cancer diagnosis, I thought I would tell (maybe retell…I can’t remember) my encounter with this jerk. This is my encounter to the best of my recollection.
This was at least 10 years ago. Probably closer to 15. I just know I was old enough to drink. Future Celebrity Fit Club alum Dustin Diamond was doing a standup comedy tour in an old RV. I believe this was after he lost his house to foreclosure, but before he released a porno that concluded with him wiping his finger across the upper lip of a woman after sticking it in a different girl’s asshole. This was also before the “tell-all” SBTB book and stabby stuff. Regardless, it was at least ten years after people should have stopped caring, if they ever did, about Screech.
Screech was in town for a slate of weekend cash grabs…er…standup shows. Admittedly, I was a big Saved By The Bell fan during the intial run and syndication. I’ve seen every episode and made-for-TV movie. More recently, I even enjoyed comedian April Richardson’s episode-by-episode breakdown podcast. The day of the first show, Screech did the rounds of morning radio shows to drum up ticket sales. He’s obnoxious. He’s determined to let everyone know not to expect Screech telling jokes. This wasn’t going to be a family friendly show…which makes sense because no one under the age of 18 even remembers the fucking guy. Screech warns (?) the radio audience that the first words out of his mouth will “shock you.” I forgot to mention this- I already had tickets before these radio interviews. I knew it was going to be a trainwreck. I like standup trainwrecks. A year or so before I had seen Jimmy “JJ” Walker do standup at the same club. He was terrible. He seemed pissed to even be up there. He wasn’t telling jokes. He just seemed pissed. At one point a friend of mine told me to yell “do Dy-no-mite.” I did. Others did too. JJ responds by saying he’s not the same guy that did that and he doesn’t do it anymore. A few minutes later he would be signing post-show autographs “Dy-no-mite - Jimmy JJ Walker.”
Back to Screech…
Screech takes the stage. His first words were “What’s up, fuckers? Oh my god, Screech just said ‘fuck!’” That’s what he considered “shocking.” Dumb people laughed, though. Screech went into his set. It was awful. He desperately needed everyone to know that he’s not the geek who got stuffed into lockers on Saturday morning children’s programing. His jokes weren’t really jokes. He commented on an audience member’s breast multiple times. He jokingly berated dudes in the audience for absolutely no reason. Not in a good we’re-in-on-it-too Jimmy Pardo audience kind of way, either. Screech’s attempts at crowd work were awful. He called dudes “fags.” He insinuated that Mark Paul Gosselar is gay. I think being a good standup comedian is one the hardest jobs in the world. Screech didn’t have it. Everything was just for sake of shocking the crowd and to reiterate that he’s not Screech anymore. He might have been able to accomplish this had roughly 70% of his set not been about Saved by the Bell. He out Sagats Bob Sagat in trying to distance themselves from the only reason anyone is there to see them. It sucks.
Cut to the next day. I’m at a record store (Coconuts) next door to the comedy club. Screech and his tour manager\girlfriend show up. He walks around the store piling up miscellaneous non-record items into his manager’s arms. The only thing I can remember was a Simpsons board game. He’s treating his manager like shit. He’s a condescending dick. At one point he gets angry and starts making fun of her because she almost dropped one of his dumb items. He was loud and mean. A few minutes later I find myself behind Screech to check out. I can’t remember the exact total of his stuff, but it was close to $300. The cashier tells him the total. Screech rummages through his pocket for the cash. This made me think he was just paid for his comedy set the night before. Screech is something like 53 cents short. He tells his girlfriend\manager to just put it on the credit card. She refuses. She tells him to just put something back. He’s angry at her suggestion. Evidently he needs this shit to fill his RV. Now I’m pissed. I try to diffuse the situation and check my pocket for change. I have the exact amount Screech, future celebrity boxer-cum-stabber, needs. I offer it to him. He looks at me and then at the cashier, a guy I knew from going in there a lot, scoff\chuckles, and says something like "This kids going to be able to tell all his friends he helped a famous actor.” I look at Screech and say something like “Really, who would that be?” The cashier quietly blurt laughs. Screech turns to him and says “He knows who I am!”
Ha! That’s great, even though I have no Idea who that is or never watched Saved By The Bell.
Standup Trainwreck would be a great band name.
i think i remember this one from the old .org
Damn. I was afraid I had told this before.
It’s new to me! <3
New to me too.
dude don’t be afraid. this is a great story. i love your stories and your writing style.
God. I don’t come here to fucking read.
Anyways! Great story! I really enjoy your stories. You’re a master of analogies. I just wish there was a ‘books on tape’ version of these.
nick’s stories always have him in some grocery store line with a bunch of eye rolling heavy mouth breathers. true americana observations. and he always somehow manages to get the word anal in all his stories.
Haha! It’s my version of the Alfred Hitchcock cameo.
Don’t worry Nick you aren’t looping as bad me.
Keep these coming, Nick. Don’t let them screech to a halt. *groans
There was a change machine in the break room where I worked. There were a lot of tables to sit at, so anytime you went in there you would have your every move scrutinized over a convenience store fish sandwich. It was customary whenever you used the change machine for a coworker to exclaim “jackpot,” at you. One day Alexander did this very thing to me for something like the thirtieth time, and I turned around and said, “Wow, if I had a quarter for every time I heard that, I wouldn’t need this change machine.” After that I started just walking to the bank once a week for a roll of quarters… I wasn’t sure if I could stop myself from saying it again.