Final post of the year? Why not?

It was 1995, as we can discern from how high the teenager’s jeans sat on his waist (not to mention the ribs in his socks). The teenager, pictured below, named Shermy Anderson, had been fast asleep beneath his disheveled covers when he heard a man muttering about, voice muffled by a floor between them (and very probably a thick moustache upon this visitor’s face).

A noise downstairs? Or something.

Shermy rose from bed and approached the edge of a staircase as cock-eyed as the rouge on his math teacher’s cheeks. What could he say? His uncles drank just fine but made poor carpenters.

There were more sounds drifting up from the brightly lit kitchen. Drawers opening and closing. A can of Mezzo-Mix–or was it Josta?–fizzing madly, then less so, as the visitor poured it into a plastic cup with a cartoon of a steroid-abusing wrestler on the side.

Another drawer, then a series of whining hums as only the grey-plastic-covered, underpowered electric appliances of that era could make, and then: “Heiliger Strohsack!”

Then silence.

And so died a time-traveling, central European shoe-cobbler on the first floor of Shermy’s home.

And so goes the last post of the year for this blog. I wish it could have made more sense, but those kinds of efforts are what 2011 is for. Happy New Year, everyone.


About Jeff Mazurek

My name is Jeff. I am an introverted mumbler prone to fits of creativity. I run. I draw cartoons. I like fish and don't get my hair cut often enough. I am happily married to my wife Sara. She likes my hair short and tolerates my fondness for fish.
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