Thank God I’m a Giants Fan

In my group of friends, the majority of us are either Giants fans or gambling/fantasy mercenaries. Unlike baseball, where there are no crossover alliances, our group in football sways to where the money or the fun is. In baseball, you cannot root for the Mets AND the Yankees. It’s impossible, unnatural and irresponsible. My kids will not be given the option of which particular pinstripes they prefer.

Football however is a whole other beast.

Continue reading “Thank God I’m a Giants Fan”

Starita versus the German

Kids, last week I was having a fictitious conversation with a made up friend of mine who had a really lousy day at work. His main concern was the lack of respect given to him after almost a decade working at the same job. Where was the loyalty? Where was the love? What can anyone do when their job isn’t satisfying them in the way they were taught growing up by 1980’s sitcoms?

I listened patiently, tossing in the occasional head nod and reassuring, “uh huh” when he looked at me and asked what should he do? I thought long and hard and decided to give my answer in the form of a story, a story from my life. A story, that happens to be true.
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Starring a plucky little Russian dog named Chechnya

Ever since I was a little Tom Starita I was aware that my mind worked differently than others. I could contort my fingers and see faces in them. For the longest time I was convinced I could see “air.” I’m a big believer in clearing my head by taking long, hot baths.

Yesterday (or three years ago depending on when you’re reading this…OHHHHH TIME TRAVEL) on the local Twitter site the following came out of me randomly like a painted garage.
Continue reading “Starring a plucky little Russian dog named Chechnya”

What’s this? Something new?

Perhaps you’re wondering where the hell I’ve been? Here you are, an innocent party enraptured by my life story only to be met one day by a stony silence which has kept up for well over a year now.

You want, nay, DEMAND an explanation!

Two words..

Puppy Bombed

I was the unfortunate victim of a well orchestrated terrorist plot, in which I was the main and as a result only victim. One day I will go into the horrifying details, one day I shall regale you with the months of rehabilitation and mental rebuilding that goes along with someone who has experienced the horror of the puppy bomb. For now, be content with the return of the story.

My story.

The story of TOM Starita.

Where was I?

Ahh yes, Ted Nugent had slayed Alan Thicke…

Unfortunately my internet time has expired for the evening and I’m out of dimes. Come back tomorrow!

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