Earnest Pettie, online
Humorous Essays
My Remarks Upon Stealing A Loaf Of Bread
Jun 19th
What follows is a mostly accurate transcript of my heartfelt appeal to the jury at my trial. All instances of sobbing, hyperventilation, and tearful stammering have been redacted to protect the innocent:
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you, is it a crime to steal a loaf of bread to feed your starving family? Certainly, the answer becomes blurry if you are considering generic brands. Whether stealing bread is legal or not, the additional pilfering of jelly, cream cheese, or other suitable toppings should never be recognized as wrong because it is naked toast which is truly the crime against nature. I admit did steal the bread. I had to steal the bread to feed my starving family– the car, I stole, because the bread was in it! They say teach a man to fish… but what if you live in a landlocked state? I never had a chance to make good. Growing up, I was deprived of my childhood by a bully– he robbed me of my youth and laughed with his friends as they passed it around.
It takes a village to raise a child, does it not? Before you can have a village, you must start with a hut. Where have all the huts gone? Robber barons with fine-pointed moustaches stole them in the middle of the night and replaced them with ranch-style homes. But no one points a finger at the robber barons. No one remarks, “What’s up with all the robber barons roaming the streets? Will our kids be safe? Wait. Where are the kids… gone with the huts?”
In fact, this world I come from was no place for a kid to grow up, which explains, in part, why it was so difficult for me to crack 5’2″. A boy becomes a man and puts away childish things, but then he has kids and needs childish things once again. He curses himself for putting away childish things but knows what he must do! If a man steals a bike to placate his whining child, I ask you, is it a crime? Bikes and loaves of bread are OK to steal, but not my new Blu-Ray player. It’s not that the quality is great, It’s just took me a long time to get used to the remote control.
In fact, I blame society for this. Each one of you is as responsible for what transpired as I am. That leads me to wonder where you were during the hard part! Everyone wants to take credit but no one wants to put forth any effort. Well, shame on you! Society has been responsible for all the major crimes of at least the last forty-two years, yet a small guy like me has to take the fall. I feel no remorse for my acts! Like industrial espionage, mine were victimless crimes! Oh, why didn’t I go into industrial espionage? I had the opportunity but lacked the follow-through.
What follows next is a mostly accurate transcript of my appeal to the parole board with the exception of the part where I tried to escape through an air vent but couldn’t find my screwdriver:
I do understand that I have the right to remain silent, but I have opted not to exercise that right because I am laughably horrible at charades. You ask me whether I feel remorse for my actions. Well, sirs and madame, I would like to tell you what Webster’s says about remorse. Unfortunately, Webster’s is uncharacteristically neutral, opting only to provide a definition. So let’s forget about remorse for now– God knows I have. I think, instead, we should look at my record inside this prison.
Specifically, I’d like you to consider my record of perfect attendance. This is something I was unable to achieve in middle school or high school, but in prison, I’ve been present every single day, even when I’ve felt under the weather! I am the first to admit, though, that my stay here has not been all positive. I’m perfectly willing to admit my yearbook club didn’t go as well as I had hoped. It turns out people are not very interested in memorializing their time in prison. Surely you wouldn’t hold it against me that the Aryan Nation managed to convince MS13 and various bloods and crips that group photos were not a good idea. Right?
I am clearly no real danger to the public at-large. I punch like and girl, and I’m afraid of my own shadow, which seems to grow very large and stand over my bunk at nighttime, telling me not to worry because it will all be over soon. And need I remind you of my ties to the community? I owe many people money, and I never made it home with that loaf of bread.
What follows next is a copy of the letter I’m mailing my lawyer tonight, the eve of my execution.
How exactly did this happen?
Dick Cheney’s Doctor’s Note
Mar 2nd
To The brothers of the Fraternity of Evil,
Please excuse Mr. Cheney’s absence from last weekend’s monthly meeting of the fraternity of evil. As you know he had a heart attack from which he was recovering at home. Although he has been weakened by the current situation and is scarcely able to hold a remote control, let alone hold a man’s life in the palm of his hand (one of his favorite pastimes), Mr. Cheney should be back at full strength in time for the next meeting. I understand attendance at Fraternity meetings is mandatory, which he tells me is the reason you started having door prizes in the first place, but I refused to clear him for travel until his cold, unfeeling stare returned.
As you know, after Mr. Cheney’s second heart attack, we began simply replacing the heart on each successive heart attack. As per the plan developed by me, in conjunction with your Nefarious Schemes committee, each of Mr. Cheney’s new hearts has come from a virginal naif, who carries his or her innocence on their countenance like morning dew on a leaf. Rather than wait for donors to die, Mr. Cheney has found that it’s far more efficient for him to pluck the beating heart from the chest of the donor and eat it. Needless to say the donor list for these operations is very short and mostly imaginary. However, Mr. Cheney has assured me that there’s no shortage of the fresh-faced and wide-eyed to be gorged upon — whatever that means.
While I have your attention, I understand many of you have continued to question why Mr. Cheney even bothers with a heart as it tends to have a muting effect on the evil he can execute. Please remember that his body begins rejecting the heart from the moment it is placed in his near-freezing cavity, but it remains a vital part of his plan for blending in with regular humans, which you can see is almost working. Of course, his ability to express warmth remains severely limited, so every time he grimaces with pleasure, think of that as a symbolic gesture of his dedication to the fraternity.
I will also be exempting him from fundraising later this week. As his grip has grown exceptionally icy, I am worried that it will be difficult to pry the candy bars from his hands. I fully expect Mr. Cheney to be back at full strength by next month’s meeting, which he tells me should be especially fun since you’ll be remaking the map of the Middle East to suit your respective interests and will have a presentation from the local FFA club.
Respectfully and fearfully yours,
Dr. Mandlebrot
In Defense of Sarah Palin
Oct 4th
Sarah Palin recently came under fire for not being able to name a newspaper she reads. In her defense, she probably didn’t know how Weekly Parade would go over with the press. Not that I blame her. I read it, too. Not only does it have timely information regarding the whereabouts of celebrities I liked as a kid, but it always has the most provocative Sudoku and crossword puzzles. Parade also features a column by Marilyn Vos Savant, listed in the Guinness Book for having the highest IQ. Getting through that column is the equivalent of a semester at Harvard each week! All that for just the price of the Sunday Paper? It sounds as if she’s already got the know-how to solve our economic crisis. Sarah Palin reads any newspaper that’s put in front of her, and that includes the Weekly World News when she’s ringing up her groceries. It’s just one of her vast variety of sources! What other sources have information regarding pieces of toast shaped like Jesus? Alaska isn’t some remote island, hours from the mainland, culturally separate from the country… like Hawaii. Alaska is a part of this country, and news of the weird makes its way there just as easily as it makes its way to Washington DC.
Sarah Palin believes that women who have been the victim of rape or incest should avoid having abortions, and why not? Abortion is a traumatic experience. Rape frequently is preceded by at least a dinner and possibly a movie; Incest is a family activity. Abortion on the other hand takes place in the cold, dark office of a doctor you’ve probably never met before. Sarah Palin should be congratulated for having the compassion necessary to spare young girls that experience. America’s young girls will have the rest of their lives to get undressed in people’s offices. Why force them to grow up now?
There is a question of whether Sarah Palin is enough of a heavyweight to be our vice president. Well, that assertion is simply sexist. We would never question the weight of a man running for office. Of course, the automatic response is “we meant intellectual heavyweight.” Well, I would dare say that’s worse. Isn’t it, after all, a veiled suggestion that a woman who is a fat nerd is unprepared to run the country? I suppose if she were a hot nerd, otherwise known as a sexy librarian, that would be OK! Well, I denounce that sexism and suggest we just give her the Vice Presidency and flowers as an apology. Everyone knows that when you wrong a woman, it’s best to apologize quickly and profusely or you’ll have to listen to her whine until you do.
America is the kind of country where a woman can go from wanting to be a sportscaster to running for Vice President, regardless of her qualifications. That’s what makes us unique as a nation, and if you can’t support that, then may I suggest moving to a country ruled by serious people of distinct caliber?
Tags: sarahpalin, vpilf, election, wasilla, alaska, john mccain, republicans, msm
Thoughts on a Walk In The Park
Sep 3rd
The park grants me a small measure of solace and, after dark, a slightly larger measure of heebie-jeebies. I walk in the park to make sense of it all. How did I reach this point, and are those guys going to mug me? Both are big questions, but I need the answer to the second one sooner.
I’ve been tackling the Problem of Evil. If there is an all-loving God, how can he allow evil to exist without allowing me to harness it to use against my enemies? My enemies are few– the three major credit reporting bureaus. I don’t believe their reporting is fair and balanced.
Coming to terms with my role in the universe. Pigeons don’t fear me, but they do respect me. A significant improvement.
It’s hard to believe that we’re alone in the universe. Especially since I keep getting calls at 3:00 AM. This can’t be a coincidence. If I were calling cross-galaxy, I would wait until the rates were cheaper, too. I can’t help but wonder whether this is really an attempt to reach out to us or simply a drunk dial. If it is both, then extraterrestrials are having a much better time than I am.
Walking gives me time to be alone with my thoughts. It’s been a mixed blessing. I’ve learned much more about my thoughts, but it is increasingly clear they don’t appreciate my company. When I am alone with my thoughts, there tend to be uncomfortable silences.
Lately, there have been times when I’ve finally felt like I am in control of my own destiny. Then I end up at Seven-Eleven. I walk in and out without purchasing anything. The clerks don’t respect me, but they do greet me. A significant improvement.
I look around the park and can’t help but believe every tree, plant, and animal is a gift from God. Why do so many of God’s gifts make me sneeze? Should I be offended? Also, I can’t help but notice that his gifts are free, but the Church insists on a monetary offering. I am getting offended.
The universe is vast. That makes me hate my apartment just a bit more. It’s so small, and there’s next to no closet space. How could this happen with there being so much space out there? What’s the excuse? Each of the stars represents another galaxy, full of promise and potential. And apartments?
In the park, I learn about myself. I am confident that I chart my own course in life. Charts. Courses. Flashbacks to remedial algebra, where I was ridiculed and beaten up for owning notebook paper. Nevertheless, when I return home my confidence holds firm. My cat doesn’t greet me, but he does demand food. A significant improvement.
Akon and Rick Ross to Collaborate on Backstory
Jul 31st
Acclaimed hard core rapper and “prevariKator” Akon announced today his intention to collaborate with fellow rapper and recently exposed fabulist Rick Ross, on “an entirely new, and completely convincing backstory”.
Both rappers recently suffered public relations setbacks when their elaborate and oft-cited criminal histories were shown to be at least in part “completely made up and shit”.
Earlier this year, online secrets repository The Smoking Gun (www.thesmokinggun.com) posted evidence that despite frequent assertions to the contrary, Akon, among whose albums is the 2006 hit “Konvicted”, has not spent a considerable amount of time in prison. However, inside sources do indicate that he has visited numerous prisons via Google Streetz View. Similar problems have only recently derailed Rick Ross fast rising rap career. Ross, who frequently claims to have made his first fortune “slinging weight,” appears to have been employed at least part time as a guard in a Federal prison. Ross’ latest album “Trilla,” a recent chart topper is, according to the rotund law enforcer, a combination of True and Real. Ross was unavailable for comment at press time, but in the wake of allegations that his backstory is neither, Ross’s publicist is defending the title as “Fronic”, or “Funny and Ironic”.
According to sources within music industry, representatives for the artists have contacted noted backstory embellisher and Hip Hop impresario Dr. Dre, and Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, to assist them in the development of a new backstory that is “hard core, disturbing, and almost completely verifiable.” Record industry observers speculate that if Dre and Whedon agree to collaborate, this new backstory could “be plausible”, and possibly hit the streets as early as September, in time for the VMA’s.
In a press release, Akon elaborated on his desire to work with the troubled corrections officer.
“Sometimes, it feels like a man is being Konvicted without a fair trial in a Kourt of Law. That’s why worKing with someone who has close up Knowldge of the justice system is integral to the suKcess of this projeKt. Personally, I Kan understand why AmeriKa might feel inKlined to judge us by our KontradiKtions, but I ask them to resist drawing a KonKlusion, and wait to see what the final produKt will look liKe.”
In an interview given almost hours after evidence of his law enforcement past surfaced, Ross seemed to indicate the direction this project might take. “Personally, biography embellishment is played out. It’s time to do something totally hard core, without any basis in fact whatsoever. On the real, I’d love to work with a visonary like Akon.” Added Ross, “We goin’ straight make up. No Homo.”
Related Stories:
- Akon denies first album purchased with own money “Tiny Dancer”
- Rick Ross admits to taking day off from hustlin’
- Mr. Rogers denies link between Akon and Land of Make Believe
Additional reporting by Ross Lincoln and Earnest Pettie
Advice For Job Seekers
Jun 25th
Even in the best of times, finding a job can be a painfully difficult task. Knowing when to yawn in an interview or how to indicate your membership–real or imagined–in the freemasons are the kinds of intangibles that it seems only experience can teach. That’s why I’m sharing with you the benefits of my own job search. After being turned down for a job, I would return to the employer to inquire why I hadn’t been hired. The most popular response was usually a phone call to security, but that’s only because of my unrestrained sobbing and uncontrollable dry heaves. Through my studies, I’ve learned that my biggest mistakes came from my resume, which is why I want to share some common resume mistakes with you. May you benefit from my failures; here are five things never to put on a resume.
- Your career as a bounty hunter. Even it is it just a side job to support a burgeoning drug habit, most employers frown on moonlighting. For them, each time you screw up, there will be the lingering fear: was he up chasing bail jumpers across state borders too late last night?
- Prior experience as the company’s president. It may have been five years since you left the company in handcuffs and disgrace, but you must never underestimate thte insecurity inherent in the hiring culture. You will appear overqualified and will not be called back.
- Your Xbox Live achievements. It’s not that they aren’t impressive or don’t show your perseverance, there simply is not enough space.
- MS Word or Internet. If you’ve reached hiring age and are unable to use MS Word or the Internet, odds are you are going to be applying for jobs that don’t require a resume.
- Time spent in boy bands. Everyone experiments in college. You’re growing up, your body is changing, and you’re learning things about yourself and the world. You’re dressing like five other guys and synchronizing your dance steps to a Timbaland beat. It doesn’t matter how big your album was in Europe; leave this off your resume. Yes, this may create an unexplained gap in your employment history, but some things, like NKOTB’s decision to reunite, are better left unexplained.
There you have it– the five mistakes that kept me from achieving my dreams and that I hope you won’t make, yourself.
The Drink or the Dollar?
May 23rd
Frank Lumley, perched at near the end of an almost empty bar, dressed in his finest Boss Hoggery, held a hundred dollar bill in the air, snapped it, and rolled it into a small tube. Next, he took that makeshift straw and stuck it into the foamy top of a milkshake, slurping. “Delicious,” he said grinning.
“The drink or the dollar?” Lumley looked down the bar and saw that he was less alone than he’d thought. A man a couple years younger, a couple styles trendier, and a little stubble manlier was looking at Lumley.
“Both, son, both. This milkshake is made with the finest vanilla ice cream because it’s delicious and the rarest camel sperm because I can. The bar doesn’t stock it– I bring my own.” The air between the two men had grown as thick as Lumley’s milkshake. “Don’t look at me like that, son. I worked too hard to get here!”
“Do you mind if I ask how you got here? How’d you make your money, or it that too rude?”
“Nah, son, it’s fine. Remember when oil hit 134 dollars a barrel? Well, I was in the barrel biz. 100 bucks a barrel.”
“You charged a 100 bucks a barrel? But wouldn’t that make oil just 34 dollars a barrel?” Lumley nodded. “May I?” the man asked, indicating Lumley’s shake. Lumley slid his drink down the bar, saloon-style. The man caught it and spat in it.
“Hey, son! Don’t do that! I deserve every dollar I earned! Do you know how I got in the barrel biz? Do you?” Lumley arrested the man with the gaze of a principal lecturing a student. “Ten years ago, I was broke, and all I had was a barrel, which I wore strapped to my body with suspenders. Then you know what I did? I chopped that barrel down and made two smaller barrels. I wore one, which was considerably less modest than I was accustomed to. I sold the other and bought party cups. That was my introduction to the biz. I sold those cups to a nearby lemonade stand, and reinvested those profits in ice, which I sold to the lemonade stand at a considerable markup. When that little girl had to raise her prices to cover costs and lost customers, I swooped in and bought the stand from her. I operated that stand for a nine months before I realized I was sitting in a gold mine. That little girl’s dad had built that lemonade stand out of love and wood. The love I had no use for, but the wood…. I chopped that lemonade stand down and made three barrels with it. You know what I did with the money I made from that first sale? I bought a pair of pants. I was in the barrel biz, and, as a business man, I knew I’d need a pair of pants. I sold my first barrels to elephant and seal acts. Demeaning but profitable. Slowly, I moved up to rodeo clowns, acquiring more and more of the barrel market. Soon, I had nowhere left to go but oil. That was where I made my first stumble. I didn’t realize they’d need lids! Otherwise, all the oil just sloshes around, son! It took me forever to live down that ignomy, but I did, son! And for every oilman who called me “Valdeez” because of my spilled oil, I tacked a dollar onto my prices. So that’s where we are, today, son. I’m raking in record profits.”
The other man just stared at Lumley. After a moment, he bagan, “I don’t know if any of what you just told me is true–”
“It’s all true.” Lumley nodded and sipped his milkshake.
“–You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Shame, son, is wearing a barrel to the local swimming pool.”
The other man sighed and went out to his car. He got in, drove to the nearest gas station, where he paid four dollars a gallon for his gasoline, and cursed Lumley while wishing he’d tried a sip of that milkshake.
I’m Sorry I Can’t Be Your Superhero
May 16th
Dear, The Undersigned,
I would like to thank you for your recent petition, encouraging me to become Sunnyvale’s resident superhero. You collected an impressive number of signatures which, now, are spread across my living room floor. No doubt you were called to action by my apprehension of The Murderous Duo, as captured on security camera and spread across Youtube. Well, I have to tell you that was more of a one-time thing– like bungee jumping. It was scary, and I never want to do it again. I did it just so that I could say I did. That’s the main reason that I must politely decline your invitation. Of course, there are other reasons that I consider to be equally valid.
- My unique brand of vigilante justice, it turns out, isn’t so unique. The guy at the comic book store told me it was actually insultingly hackneyed.
- I have a well-known and documented aversion to conflict. It took me ten years to divorce my unfaithful wife because every time I’d bring it up, she’d say “What?” and I’d say “Nothing.”
- I’m not fashionably bold enough to pull off a super outfit. I’ve worn Dockers khakis for fifteen years, and it took a leap just to get me out of the pleated ones into the flat fronts.
- Finally, while I do have a mysterious past, tons of money, and a butler, I feel I know the best way to maintain those things: avoid public scrutiny, refrain from investing in supergadgetry, and keep the scope of my butler’s job description as-is.
Now, my butler, on the other hand might make an excellent superhero. I often give him Saturday nights off because he wants to go “cruisin’ for some action.” On those nights, he tells me he’s going out looking for bad boys in tight pants. I must admit that I have long suspected him of maintaining a secret life that he can only hint at.
Sincerely,
Superstrong Heronius, III
PS. Thank you for sending the first season of Greatest American Hero on DVD. I enjoyed it.
A Conversation Between the Guy Who Locked His Daughter in His Basement for 24 Years and His Wife.
May 14th
Josef: OK, so you know how you’ve been on me to remodel the basement?
Rosemarie: Yeah…
Josef: And you know how you’ve been wanting more kids.
Rosemarie: Right, but it’s so messy–
Josef: Exactly, exactly. Well, this is going to sound crazy
Rosemarie: I hate it when you start things that way.
Josef: Now, just hear me out, OK? I’ve got many birds and one stone here. Daughter–loud music. Always with the attitude? Stick her in the basement and we get her pregnant.
Rosemarie: We?
Josef: Well, that would be mostly me, but I promise it would be a joyless gesture.
Rosemarie: It always is with you.
Josef: Hey, don’t be hurtful! I’m just trying some creative problem solving here.
Rosemarie: There’s a problem with your plan, genius.
Josef: Really?
Rosemarie: Who’ll deliver the babies?
Josef: What?
Rosemarie: The doctor– what doctor would do that?
Josef: Why do we need doctors? Listen, people gave birth without doctors for centuries. They redesigned their basements without interior designers for centuries. They impregnated their daughters without remorse for centuries!
Rosemarie: Sounds like you’re being cheap.
Josef: I’m being practical!
Rosemarie: Listen, if this is just your way of getting out of hiring an interior designer…
Josef: No, no! I can take care of all of this myself! I swear!
20 Years Later
Rosemarie: So you still haven’t finished the basement.
Josef: Well, I’ve given you a ton of kids. As promised. On time and under budget!
Rosemarie: I knew this was just an excuse not to hire an interior designer.
Four years later
Josef and Rosemarie are being led out of their home in handcuffs.
Josef: So, I’m prepared to admit that maybe I was being cheap.
Rosemarie: I can’t believe they’re going to see the basement looking that way. This is so embarrassing!
Yesterday morning 1991 called me.
Apr 25th
Yesterday morning, 1991 called me. Luckily it called me on my VOIP program, Gizmo5, and I was able to record the call and transcribe it for you. What follows is an accurate transcription of that telephone call.
1991
Is this Earnest?
Earnest
Yes, Speaking.
1991
Hey, Earnest, this is 1991, and I was calling to inquire about the possibility of my resuming ownership of those track pants…
Earnest
Excuse me?
1991
I was wondering if I could get those track pants back.
Earnest
I’m not sure what you’re talking about.
1991
Come on, man. You know. Your aunt gave them to you two years ago. They make you look like either Rob Base or DJ EZ Rock. They make that vwhip-vwhip sound when you walk.
Earnest
OK, so I suppose I do know which pants you’re referring to. What do you need them for?
1991
Let me answer your question with another question. How ya livin’?
Earnest
What?
1991
How ya livin’?
Earnest
What?
1991
In Living Color.
(17 seconds of silence.)
1991
I’m sorry. It’s just been so long.
Earnest
Why do you need these pants back?
1991
I’m going into training… I’m thinking of making a comeback.
Earnest
You’re kidding!
1991
No, I mean, I was pretty good the first time around, right? Married With Children. Simpsons bootleg T-shirts, Nirvana and Metallica– not to mention the good Gulf War!
Earnest
And don’t forget that recession.
1991
That was a low blow. Just give me back the pants. I need them more than you…. Unless you’re trying for the anachronistic drug dealer look. Need a pager?
Earnest
I think I’m going to keep them, but if you happen to see 1998, tell him I’ve got some shiny club shirts he can have back. Actually, you know what? You can have the pants.
1991
Really?
Earnest
Not!
At that point 1991 hung up the phone, and I checked to make sure that my 1991 track pants still fit and looked just as cool now as they did back in the day.
Earnest Pettie is a Los Angeles-based comedy writer from Oklahoma who spends his days mining the internet for comedy gold for Break.com
