Worse Than Expired Milk

My dad's desk drawers reminded me that as a kid I was quite spoiled (even though I never got my ROOS back then). I really had some great toys - Omnibot, a big Voltron, plenty of Star Wars figures, lots of He-Man toys, Transformers, a Pogo Ball, and even my personal assistant Mildred who cleaned my room for me and made sure my cappuccino was always warm. For whatever reason, I saved the instructions to a few of these toys and I recently uncovered some of those papers in one of the desk drawers. Can you believe I used to own this:

That's right, a Back to the Future II radio controlled Delorean, detailed down to the Mr. Fusion which REALLY WAS THE POWER SOURCE!.

I also uncovered the assembly instructions for my Roller Racer Sit Skate. Man that thing kicked some ass. We had a big, unfinished basement and I would roll around that cement floor for hours singing the jingle. When I was finally tuckered out I would go upstairs for another cappuccino, caviar and crackers, and I would often have my nails buffed by our family stylist ("sitting" and "skating" can be a bitch on the digits). Hey, don't look at me like that. I already said that I was spoiled.

MC Hammer Wore Polkadots

More treasures from dad's desk drawers.

Yes, the drawing to the left is indeed supposed to be MC Hammer. Just in case there was ever any doubt I added the "MC" across his chest. I'm pretty sure MC Hammer wore this exact outfit while at his peak, polkadots and all.

I also drew this wonderful picture to the right, which I'm pretty sure was me predicting what "Kid" from Kid 'n Play would look like if Kid grew a curly moustache.

The Desk of Lost Treasures

Along with my move to the District came my dad's old desk. We've had this thing as long as I can remember and for the last year and a half I have been promising my mom I would move it to my apartment. Finally that happened.

My mom emptied out everything from it that she would need and left everything in it that is mine. However, since this desk has been around the house I grew up in for quite some time, "my stuff" is becoming a bit of a flash back to high school and earlier.

I've decided to share some of these discoveries with the Voters in the hopes that they will at least provide you with a tiny bit of the entertainment this stuff is providing me. Drawings, stories, photos - the fun comes in all shapes and sizes. But today, we're starting with a high school essay written for a class known as "WW1." After a bit of memory jogging, I realized that's not "World War I" but actually, "Writing Workshop 1". This doozie comes to us from way back on March 4, 1994. It looks like the assignment was to write some kind of a continuation to O. Henry's short story, "The Cop and the Anthem". My continuation leaves off with Soapy just getting out of jail and leads him on a tale of anger, fur importers, wrestling and more. But why give away all the twists. ON WITH THE STORY!

[Teachers notes, in purple pen] Adam -
- Excellent storyline, characters, & dialogue. One problem: this was not the assignment. You were to create a new adventure for him to fail at & not get arrested. I will accept this because of its quality & length but be careful with directions (20/20)

The Cop and the Anthem...Continued
Soapy served his three months on the island with out a complaint. When the three months were up, Soapy went looking for a job. He remembered that a fur importer had once offered him a place as a driver so he went there first.
Soapy reached the fur importer's place of business and tried to open the front door. It was locked. Soapy thought that he just had not pulled hard enough on the door so he tried again, and again, and again. Soapy started to shake and bang on the door causing quite a commotion. A man passing by stopped and asked Soapy what he was doing.

"I'm trying to open the door. Can't you see that?"

"Well the building is closed and for sale. The company that worked here before went out of business a few weeks ago. There is a sign in the window, can't you see that?" The man pointed to a window in the building with his long, bony finger. Soapy read it.

The sign read, "For sale or lease, call (201) 869-5528."

Soapy became furious. He started shouting and banging on the wall of the building. The man that had just sent Soapy into a rage tried to calm him down, but it was no use. Soapy just pushed him out of his way and ran down the street screaming, knocking anything or anyone down that was in his way.

One of the people Soapy knocked down stood right back up and grabbed Soapy on the shoulder. Soapy turned around to see who it was that had touched his shoulder before he pulverized them, but to his surprise, Soapy saw a beautiful woman.

Before Soapy could apologize the woman spoke. "I've been lookin' for people like you. I have this idea for a professional wrestling league. I think I'm gonna call it the WWF. Anyway, you'd be a perfect wrestler. You've got the spunk, the strength, you've got what it takes. What do you say?"

Soapy accepted this woman's offer and went on to become one of the most successful professional wrestlers in history. Even after Soapy became extremely wealthy he didn't forget who he was or where he came from. Soapy helped many homeless people find jobs and places to live. Soapy was a good man.
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Turning Over a New Door

...and suddenly, I'm living in Washington, DC.

The Keys to the City

In my hand, the keys to my new DC apartment. Two sets of keys and one extra, mysterious key. Some might say it's just an extra key to the apartment building, but some would be wrong. You see, in order to keep all of the wonderful Smithsonian museums and National Park Service's monuments free, the DC goverment asks all of its residents to help take part in the upkeep process. So that extra key is actually a key to the Washington Monument. At least once a week, and more often if I can, I am required to head on over to the National Mall and take out the trash at the Washington Monument and shake out the "Welcome" door mats. It's a bit of a hassle, but really, I feel like I'm doing my part to help take care of the city I now call home.