Sally Forth

Hey, remember The Fourth of July, 2003? We don't, but found this in our archives:

Fourth of July Fourthiness.

Independence is on the march, patriots.

& Recently . . .

Kurt Cobain's Ghost with an Invitation to a Fourth of July Picnic and Fireworks by Angela Genusa

"B.L.T.": A Review by Will Layman

Ten Tiny Poems by Brian Beatty

Angry Words from a Gnome Who to This Day Continues to Think the Human Genome Project Was Actually The Human Gnome Project by David Ng

Key Party, N.Y.C., Circa Always by William K. Burnette

A Day on the Phone with Mythological Norse Firewarrior, Bringer of Storms by Aaron Belz

Polish Fact

Traffic?
Major illicit producer of amphetamine for the international market; minor transshipment point for Asian and Latin American illicit drugs to Western Europe.

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Spanglish!
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Hit me, baby, one more time.

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Monday, April 21, 2003   |    Fiction

I Can’t Wait for My Midlife Crisis!

by Geoff Wolinetz

Oh, I know. I’ve got a long way to go. I’ve only been working at this company for five years. I’m already starting to make plans though. This guy upstairs just turned 40 and he’s about to dive headlong into his midlife crisis. Last week, he came in with an earring. He looks like a total idiot. But all of the chicks in the office go up to him and say, “Oh, Dave, you look so cute with that earring,” or, “Dave, is that a new suit?” They’re all lining up to be the next Mrs. Dave, when the divorce he’s going to get goes through in the next year or so.

I’m so jealous of Dave. But Dave is an idiot, so I’ll bet he’s going to screw up his midlife crisis. He’ll probably by some crappy car like a Ford Probe or something. When I have my midlife crisis, I’m not going to spare any expense on the car. It’s going to be Porsche or Ferrari for me. None of this Ford or Dodge crap. How can you expect to have a decent midlife crisis if you have an American car?

Plus, Dave’s wife is still kind of hot. Granted, she could lose a little weight, but she doesn’t look all that bad for having squeezed out his two puppies. I’m going to marry a girl that’s kind of cute now but is guaranteed to either gain a lot of weight or lose her looks very quickly. This way, when I trade in for a much younger and much hotter girlfriend, my ex-wife will look even worse compared to her. If you want to have a decent midlife crisis, you really have to trade up. And Dave is way too stupid and clumsy to bag himself a chick that’s considerably hotter than his wife because his wife is still hot. His divorce is probably going to be amicable also because he’s a putz. My divorce is going to be all cruel and mean. My wife and I are going to sling mud at each other and get into a fierce custody battle. All of our communication is going to be filled with vitriol. Meanwhile, I wonder when Dave is going to get that divorce. His wife would be nice piece of older tail for me to score now. I’ll have to make a note of that.

Dave is a pretty big lame-ass also. He’ll probably pick up some stupid hobby like golf or some other pussy sport. If you are going to have any kind of midlife crisis, you need to pick up, like, hang gliding or bungee jumping, motorcycles or surfing. Something young and cool, not old and gay. Any sport where the pants are plaid and the shirt requires a collar is automatically out. I’ve picked the perfect sport for my midlife crisis: I’m going to do bear baiting. It’s this new sport where they release you into this wildlife preserve with a side of beef and a small knife and you engage in hand-to-hand combat with a ferocious grizzly bear. It’s young, edgy and fucking crazy. That’s the kind of thing you need for your midlife crisis. I’m also thinking about kickboxing.

So Dave goes out and gets an earring. Big deal. When I have my midlife crisis, I’m going to get a huge tattoo that covers my entire back. In the middle is going to be this skull, right, with a dagger that goes through the top of the skull so you can only see the handle. At the bottom, the point of the dagger is going to poke through the jaw. There’s going to be huge flames surrounding the skull in red and orange and yellow. Maybe, I’ll put some purple in there for the extra effect. Here’s the clincher though: at the top of my back it’s going to say, “YOUNG” and at the base of my back, it’s going to say, “GUN” in that old New York Times header print. How fucking cool is that?

If you are going to have a midlife crisis, at least do it right.

Geoff Wolinetz cannot be found on IMDb because the Hollywood community refuses to acknowledge the production of his seminal masterpiece Come What May, a gritty psychothriller starring a guy who kind of looks like Billy Baldwin and Erin Gray (formerly of "Silver Spoons"). If he were to be found on IMDb, his name would fall between "Geoff Witcher" and "Geoff Wood." In addition to his imaginary film career, Geoff also maintains an imaginary career as a baron of industry, is lead singer of the imaginary band Kick Ass, Falco, holds an imaginary Olympic gold medal and is an imaginary Pulitzer laureate in the field of journalism for his investigative piece on the albinos of Alaska.