PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

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Boston Considers Banning Hazmat Costumes

 

This is not an actual newspaper headline, but it will be when I’m mayor. You laugh and think, “Mayor? Yeah, right! Dude, you’re gonna be freakin’ President.”

What, you think I don’t know that? For crying out loud I’m reading the same voter data tables you are! (And isn’t it a great country where you can get voter data tables delivered every morning with your eggs? Try that in China.)

The truth is this: after my stint as President of the United States of America, I’m going to continue my extraordinary run in public service in smaller ways, such as by running a medium-sized US city. This will keep me in the news and allow me to express my dismay for Halloween costumes that exceed the frontiers of good taste and/or put the public’s safety at risk.

Wondering if it’s too late to announce my candidacy for Governor of Massachusetts under the Stop Ebola Now Party.

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Pat's Disaster Saison

 

All great beers need a catchy name to be heard above the chatter. That’s what they teach in beer marketing school. Or so I’m told. I don’t know because I’ve never taken a beer marketing class.

Surprised? The truth is I don’t have any of those advanced beer-marketing degrees that people are getting online these days. Just because I keep my beer supply so miniscule doesn’t mean I’ve been taught to create false demand. The truth is I’m hoarding my beer. Also, I suspect people won’t actually like my brews, which is why I’ve been giving them names like “One” and “Two” and “Three”, and so forth. Who wants to drink a “Three” when they could wait in line at a Vermont beer outlet to buy a single Heady Topper? And so my very limited supply is ironically not in demand at all.

A good thing, because my latest effort, a farmhouse Saison, is an ale meant to be packed with flavor, but is actually rather light and airy, the result of a series of brewing blunders that essentially failed to extract fermentables from the steeping grains. Oh, I could go on, but the fact is that despite my considerable wisdom and brewing experience (hey, I’ve been doing this since 2013!), I’ve produced what may be the most insipid Saison ever.

Which is why I’ve decided to rebrand it “Disaster Pat’s Insipid Ale.” Interested in trying one? Of course not. Not when you can wait in a mile-long line in Vermont for a Heady Topper. (Limit: one per customer.)

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Don't Sit Here

 

 

In my next life, I’d like to come back as a dog owned by one of those people who will allow me to pee on virtually any object that protrudes vertically from the ground. Signposts: check. Newly planted rose bushes: check. Slow-moving old people: check.  

The world is filled vertical protrusions, each of which is looked upon by dogs as a toilet where they can leave their scent for other dogs to sniff, as well as little puddles for my children to drop their backpacks into while waiting for the school bus.

With any luck, I’ll be adopted by the sort of woman I encountered last week, who watched in stony silence as her giant pooch urinated on a park bench along the famed Muddy River. This wasn’t a little Pomeranian piddling on the bench legs, but rather an extremely large breed of canine that squirted on the bench seat itself, where actual humans occasionally plant their behinds while eating a ham sandwich.

As I pedaled by on my bike and witnessed the indiscreet canine act, I tried to think positively and identify a lesson learned. It was this: that our fellow humans are often thoughtless boors, and better to picnic on a blanket than on a park bench.

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Elated Maids, Inc.

 

Sometime in the next few months, I’m planning to launch a new cleaning service in the Boston area to compete with Sunshine Maids and Merry Maids. You think the maids we already have in this area are happy enough, but compared to my maids they’re a bunch of dour whiners. Look, you can’t even get an interview with my maid service unless you display lots of smiley pep in your cover letter. Plus, your resume must indicate that you have a consistent track record of cleaning homes with a mixture of joy and pleasure. If it’s not absolutely obvious to me that you’re thrilled to wear the Ecstatic Maids one-piece jumper, then you'll have to find a job with another service, such as Dejected Maids, Corp.

Here's what the customer can expect if the services of my firm are retained: first, you'll notice that my maids arrive singing cheerfully and invite you to join in! Now watch as they scrub your toilet wearing ear-to-ear grins. They love removing soap scum from your bathtub and baked-on macaroni-and-cheese spillover in your oven.  Dirty floors with all kinds of mashed-in food goo?  A delight to toil on!

Eventually, my maid service will crush all others.  Then it’s onto Euphoric Crime Scene Cleanup, LTD.

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Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!