I Don't Have Enough Middle Fingers For All Of You.

My name is Matt. I'm from Rhode Island. I enjoy blogging and I am an avid farter.

What have I done?

The Moving Truck

looks like I loaded it by firing Lisa’s belongings from a cannon.

I guess I should have taken it a little easier on the turns.

*throws postcard out window*
The last time I drive home alone.
Sometimes it’s nice to hit the open road and just drive.

I’m picking up a U-Haul in 41 minutes.

If anything goes wrong I’m gonna make it rain in there.


My nephew wants to do nothing but play baseball. I told him to give me a pose for his baseball card and this is what he came up with. It’s a good gameface. No emotion.Then I have to pitch to him.It’s always the bottom of the ninth. There are always two outs. He’s always down by three with the bases loaded in game seven of the World Series.The fictional relief pitcher’s name is Stu Starkey. He has the worst ERA in the history of baseball because he gives up a grand slam to the only batter he faces six nights a week to lose the World Series in the bottom of the ninth.My nephew is happy. He wins the World Series over and over and over again.While poor Stu Starkey has to relive the agony of defeat almost nightly, walking off the field with his head down, thinking maybe next year.
The last thing I ever received from my mother was a letter addressed to me with a label that read To be read in the event of my death. In it, she wrote that she loved watching me eat a meal she prepared that I loved.I used to think that was an odd thing. I never put too much thought into the meals that we ate together. I think I understand what she was talking about now.