I’m fairly certain there is something wrong with my brain. It functions pretty normally, aside from the ADD, there are only a couple situations that make me feel dumber than a learning disabled fucktard with “the nothing” where my “Grey’s Anatomy” should be. One of my MANY areas of concern is my total failure to have any awareness of my orientation in space (sense of direction).

Now you’re thinking, what about getting a Global Positioning System (GPS), stupid? Yes, my life is much easier after getting some GPS but this handicap doesn’t just affect me in the car, this shit hinders me before I ever get behind the wheel! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve misplaced my car in a parking lot. I’m talking SO lost I convinced myself it got straight-up jacked. Thankfully, I have yet to call the police. Could you imagine that shiiiiit?

Me: Officer, some SOB stole my car!
Cop 1: What’s the make and model young man?
Me: It’s a black on black Porsche 911 turbo (seriously!)
Cop 2: Hmmmmm, that car over yonder seems to fit that description.

*Confirm ownership of car by hitting keyless entry device*

Beep boooop beep

Me: Wow, Um well, Ha ha ha *nervous chuckle* I’m sorry to have wasted your time officers.
Cop 3: *After the roars of laughter die down* Do you think we should put this poor bastard out of his misery sir?
Cop 6: Hey sarge can we at least take this big giant pussy to jail so they can use his ass like a turnstile?
Sarge: Hey now, we to need to see some information, license and registration son.
Cop 25: Unless you misplaced it?

Before this glorious invention I used to print out countless pages of MapQuest bullshit to help me navigate out of my comfort zone (2 mile radius). Do you remember this horse-shit they called a website? It felt like hitting the lottery if you actually got to your intended destination. Not that I know what hitting the lottery feels like, but assuming it feels good, just like that.

AssQuest always sent me on a wild goose chase with five hundred handouts better suited to wipe my ass with. To add insult to injury, I would always leave the leftover printed material in my car to accumulate like a landfill; the pages a constant reminder that a sack of potatoes has a better direction sense than me. This website and weather people are the only two things in history that can have a success rate of 50, and not be terminated. F you both. Not you Cecily, you can report hailing dinosaur testicles and I would still be happy.

Shes an angel…

"Reporting live from South Philly with a winter ice storm warning. After getting pounded by hail balls I predict a wet and sloshy morning, followed by a second mid morning wallop."

And her polar opposite, Glen “Hurricane” Schwartz, on location at some charity event.

 

Jesus, he can't even fully commit to a half hug. Grab that bitch like you mean it, like a HURRICANE!

This guy can’t nail down a promising photo-op, you expect him to get the Doppler Radar weather forecast correct!?

 

Phew, enough about weather people, back to the issue at hand.

 

Although GPS has become a required tool in my life, it hasn’t solved all my problems. I remember using it to go 100yds in a straight line to find a high school. You know you have issues when you use GPS searching for a landmark you can see from space.

I once used GPS to locate a restaurant on a first date. Boy, was that a bad idea. After picking her up I had the challenging task of processing data from two women talking over one another.

Me: So where are you from originally?
Date: Well, I was born in New Jersey but grew up in Philly.
GPS: *at the same time* Remain on the current road for 2.5 miles.

When two women are talking at once they completely cancel each other out. I made the next left and said, “Oh yeah, what part of Philly were you born in?” So not only did I sound like a total idiot my date goes “weren’t you supposed to keep going straight?”

Me: THERE IS ONE TOO MANY WOMEN TALKING, PLEASE SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE UNTIL WE GET TO THE EATERY! Maybe you can start thinking about what you want for dessert?

GPS: Recalculating route.

Another troublesome scenario occurs when I’m forced into the mall during the holidays. Walking around trying to avoid the kiosk people is hard enough, let alone overcoming my brain when its goes into full-blown retard mode. Retard mode is the very moment I exit a store and find myself standing there like I just teleported into the center of a Labyrinth. Fuck me, was I going right or left? Both directions look the F-ing same!

This happens often because I spend a large part of my visits backtracking. Perhaps this is why I save mall trips for December? Nothing gets me more psyched for the holidays than getting “turned around” like a dreidel and having to wander around the parking lot like a Neanderthal.

“Happy Holidays!”

P.S. YES, there was a second date!