Hola, amigos. What’s the situation? I know it’s been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I’ve had a mountain of problems. First off, I had a major toothache that kept me awake for three nights in a row. The only good thing about it was that by the third night, I was seeing all kinds of fucked-up stuff. I mean, you remember that scene from The Wall where those hammers are marching? That’s the kind of stuff I saw. No joke.
Anyway, when I went to the dentist, he told me I needed a total root canal. Now, Jim Anchower is a lot of things, but insured is not one of them. So I decided to get a second opinion. I had Wes and Ron check out my mouth, and they couldn’t see anything wrong, so I figured I could hold off. I think I made the right call, seeing as I haven’t felt any pain in about 48 hours.
On top of that, my car’s been acting up, making all these whining, grinding noises, and I can’t pin it down. It’s either the differential or the bearing. Either way, that means money out of old Jim’s pocket, which is bad, as now is not exactly the best time for me financially.
I wouldn’t be in such a monetary bind if I hadn’t gotten that tattoo. In my last column, I mentioned that I was going to get a scorpion tattoo because it’d be the perfect expression of what I’m all about. Problem was, I couldn’t find a decent picture. I got a bunch of pictures of scorpions from readers of this paper, but none of them had the “don’t fuck with me” look I was looking for. I mean, there were some real bad-ass ones, but none of them quite went all the way.
So I had to ditch that and move to Tattoo Plan B: the four Led Zeppelin IV symbols. You know, “Zoso” and the feather in the circle and that other mystical shit. I figured it’d be cheap because it was all black and white, but it wound up costing me about $60 more than I expected. Then, right after I got it, I kind of ignored the guy’s advice and went swimming with Ron and Wes. It got infected, so all the symbols look blurry. You can pretty much tell what it is, but you have to squint. That’s fine with me, though. That just makes it even more of a mystery.
All that financial trouble had me racking my brains about how I was going to raise some extra cash. I’d heard that lots of people were making some major coin on the Internet, so I went to one of those coffee shops with computers to check it out. After screwing around with the Internet for a while without getting any results, I finally got fed up and typed in “fuckyou.” The screen changed to some hot chicks with huge tits and, suddenly, I was in business.
I was only there for, like, a minute before someone came over and kicked me out. Man! How can a guy try to make a living if The Man’s going to come crashing down hard on him? I should have kicked his wimpy computer-and-coffee ass, but it would have been bad form to whale on a nerd.
Anyway, that turned out to be a dead end. I was forced to explore other potential money-making avenues. I thought about how gas was getting real high in price, but I couldn’t figure out a way to turn that into cash. Then I had the brilliant idea that if I made my own booze, I wouldn’t make money, but I’d at least save money, which is kinda the same thing. Problem was, I couldn’t figure out how to do it. You gotta be a scientist or something. Maybe I should ask Wes if he can help me.
Then, I had the idea that the best way to make money would be to take something I do ordinarily, but then find a way to do it for pay. Like driving. Since I drive around all the time, I figured I could make money being a pizza man or a courier. But since gas is so expensive, there goes my profit.
I play tunes all day long, but I couldn’t be a disc jockey at WRAK 95.5 The Rock, either, because they said I needed experience. I told them I was funny and knew all about kick-ass music like Speedwagon and Zep, but they still said no. Man, how can you get experience when you gotta have experience to get experience? It’s all messed up. Pretty deep. I’ll let you chew on that one for a while.
Hell, I even tried to have a rummage sale. I took all my old tapes I never listen to anymore, my collection of restaurant ashtrays, and that old chair I spilled bongwater on, and I laid ’em all in the front yard. But the entire day, I sold just one Dio tape for 50 cents. Even worse, I spent $5 on beer and chips while I was sitting there, so I wound up $4.50 in the hole.
That was pretty much most of my ideas right there. One time, I had this really great idea about how I could make tons of money without ever leaving the house, but I was really high at the time and forgot the details. It’ll come to me soon. When I remember it, I’ll be on Easy Street. But don’t worry: Even when I’m rich, I’ll remember my roots. The first thing I’ll do is have a party for all my pals. You’re invited. I’ll let you know more when it comes together.
Jim Anchower joined The Onion’s editorial writing staff in 1993 after several distinguished years on The Come Back Inn dishwashing staff. He comments on community-affairs, automotive, and employment issues. He attended LaFollette High School in Madison, WI.
