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Chapter 2

Requiem for an Urkel

Carl Winslow was never one to take long showers. Then again, Carl Winslow had never been covered in this much dirt and filth. The water hit his black skin, each droplet ricocheting its way down until it swirled into the drainpipe and out of sight. Unfortunately, the guilt of his cold blooded killing could not be gotten rid of quite so easily. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Carl twisted the knobs and stepped out of the tub. He couldn’t squander anymore time trying to clean his body and his conscience. Today, he had two funerals to attend.

Steve Urkel’s body lay motionless on the velvety inside of the coffin, his comically large glasses gently resting on his face. They covered the wound from the slug that Carl had fired into his brain just 4 days before. When it was Carl’s turn to address the deceased nerd, he could only briefly glance at Steve’s body before he had to look away, as he was overtaken by a vomitous urge. The young man he had killed was not the same one that would soon be eulogized by his daughter. The young man he had killed was a prowler, a reprobate and a fraud. The young man he had killed was Steffon Urkelle, yet it was Steve Urkel whose heart would no longer beat, and whose murder Carl had to live with.

Laura’s eulogy was beautiful, truthful and poetic, and she spoke of Steve’s numerous misadventures with the Winslow family. She spoke of the time that he drove his car through the Winslow family house; she spoke of the time that Steve befriended an orangutan and got it to kiss Carl on the lips; she spoke of the time when at a wild house party, Steve let loose and taught everybody how to “do the Urkel.” She even spoke of the time when she enlisted Steve to help her with her science project, only to have him accidentally make an atomic bomb and completely blow Chicago off the map, and how she later woke up to realize that it was all just a weird dream. With each memory of Steve that Laura recounted, Carl winced in agony. Steve was such a lovable character, how could he have shot him dead in the street?

That night, Carl made violent love to his wife. Ever since the incident, Carl had ceased to feel human, to feel like a man, and he thought that intercourse with his wife would cure him of this. But it was a completely empty gesture, each thrust meaningless, each moan less a cry of exstacy and more a cry for help, and Harriette knew this. Carl knew that his wife could tell that he wasn’t right, but she could never know that he was responsible for Steve’s death, even though she deplored his alterego, Steffon, just as much as Carl. She could never know that he was a murderer.

The next day at work, things got complicated. Steffon’s murder, which had earlier been chalked up to a senseless, unsolvable drug killing, had been reopened. On the big board where the names of all of Chicago’s murder victims were written, so to were the names of the detectives assigned to each case. Next to Urkel’s, the name written in black sharpie was Carl Winslow. It would be Carl’s first case as a detective.

It would probably be his last.

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Alright people, I realize that it has been forever and a day since I’ve last blogged (literally) and I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart. I could come up with a whole litany of excuses as to why I haven’t typed any words in this word box thingy for the better part of three months, but most of them would probably be untrue and unconvincing, so what’s the point of even trying to come up with any? I’ll just make amends by posting this monster list of 69 New-fuckin’-Year’s resolutions for you’ll to chew on. How many other blogs out there in the cyberworld would provide you with this many resolutions, goals, hopes, dreams and pie-in-the-sky aspirations for 2009? That’s right, none of them would. Just me. So here you are, faithful readers, and here’s hoping to considerably more blog entries courtesy of The Crain Train in 2009.

69 New Year’s Resolutions For The Year of Our Lord, 2009 A.D.

1. Sleep in later. No more of this getting up at the crack-of-dawn nonsense. It’s not healthy.

2. Add a couple of new restaurants to my fast food lunch rotation. I’d like to see myself eating less Subway and a little more Wendy’s this year.

3. Oh, and some more Pollo Feliz.

4. Shave my beard with an actual razor that has an actual blade at least once without drawing blood and/or crying afterwards.

5. Break the land speed record…for gettin’ in a chick’s pants!

6. Adopt a Palestinian baby and an Israeli baby. Name them Pal and Izzy, respectively.

7. Come up with a new way to resolve long standing geo-political conflicts with some sort of competition involving babies.

8. Finally take that trip to Nigeria that I’ve been planning for the past few years.

9. Invent a Guinness Book of World Records video game.

10. Change my shoelace tying procedure from “over, under, around and through” to “over, under, in and out.”

11. Try to think of the name of the Nickelodeon game show that Mike O’Malley hosted before “Guts.” You know, the one with picto-grams and stuff.

12. Start smoking and then finally quit (and for real this time )

13. Get through at least one article about the AIDS crisis in sub-Saharan Africa without laughing hysterically.

14. Win an old school, one on one, no holds barred, east-side vs west-side rap battle.

15. Discover 40 species of microscopic, algae-dwelling proto plankton.

16. And kill them.

17. Finish at least 2 New York Times crossword puzzles each week.

18. Figure out a way to steal my neighbor’s issues of The New York Times.

19. Finally get out into my workshop and finish the dang entertainment center that the old lady’s been nagging me about.
20. Become a best selling author by learning how to fly-fish and then writing a humorous, anecdotal memoir about how learning to fly-fish is a metaphor for life.

21. Grow eight inches.

22. Write a kid’s movie about talking animals that live on the prehistoric super continent of Pangea.

23. Exercise for 45 minutes everyday after work, completely naked except for wristbands.

24. Put aside $20 from each paycheck to donate to the Ku Klux Klan.

25. Stop peeing in the shower, especially when I’m not taking one.

26. Start dressing in something nicer than just t-shirts and jeans when stalking high school girls.

27. Try harder to say “dork” instead of “dick,” because it sounds funnier.

28. Also “porno” instead of “porn.”

29. Clean out my closet, sell all the stuff that I don’t need or haven’t used for a few years and donate the money to the Ku Klux Klan.

30. Take a speed reading course and read the complete works of William Shakespeare in 25 minutes.

31. Cast an informed and well researched vote in this year’s U.S. Presidential election.

32. Train for the Boston Marathon and run in it while completely drunk.

33. Climb on top of the tallest building in the city and do a back flip off of it.

34. Spend about 5 minutes each night before I go to bed to pray for $40,000 and the power of flight.

35. Submit an entry for the next “Chicken Soup For the Christian Grandmother’s Soul.”

36. Go number 1 in twelve different states.

37. Go number 2 in six different ones.

38. Oh, and some more Del Taco. That stuff is pretty tasty (See #2.)

39. Start researching my family history and genealogy so I can be positively sure that I don’t have a drop of dirty, Lithuanian blood.

40. Enroll in a few night school classes at the community college…or just go on a sorority house panty raid.

41. Finish filling out all the necessary paperwork to legally change my name to Matty B. Exceptional.

42. Buy the lake house that I’ve always wanted and fill it with cocaine and tranny hookers.

43. Coach a basketball team of underprivileged, dyslexic, paraplegic middle school kids.

44. Bone down with each of their mothers.

45. Try to become the first person from Missouri to win the Nobel Prize…for gettin’ in a chick’s pants!

46. During a two week span, eat nothing but Hostess brand Chocolate Pudding Pies.

47. Get my ride “pimped,” my truck “tricked” and my house “flipped.”

48. Do some science experiments and see if I can’t find a cure for either rabies or scabies.

49. Stop what I’m doing whenever I see a school bus hurtling down the street out of control and save all the children that aren’t ugly.

50. Bone down with each of their mothers.

51. Overcome my debilitating speech impediment and record a Grammy winning duet with Chingy.

52. Try to get out of the house a little more often so I can go on a worldwide search for a lamp containing a sexy genie.

53. Adopt a dog from a Greyhound rescue service, dress it up in a tiny dog tuxedo and make it be my butler.

54. Make more of an effort to get involved in hilarious japery and/or tomfoolery.

55. Organize a local group of political activists to get all those damn Whigs and Free Masons out of city council.

56. Take a much needed break from my job as a trucker, make amends with my estranged son and win the national arm wrestling championship.

57. Stop neglecting my aging grandmother so I can horn in on some sweet inheritance action.

58. Bone down with her Hispanic nurse.
59. Work my way up the National Scrabble rankings, make it all the way to the finals and then play the word “BONEDOG.”

60. Re-watch Jurassic Park 2. Maybe it’s not as bad as I remember.

61. Start saving some money for retirement, put a down payment on a nice home and settle down with one of those San Diego Charger cheerleaders that I’ve been seeing on the TV.

62. Using only elbow grease, hard work and old fashioned American ingenuity, try and find a way to get drunk faster.

63. Rescue a chimpanzee from a zoo and train him to be a Kentucky Derby caliber jockey.

64. Dust off the old cam-corder and try to get myself on “America’s Funniest People.”

65. Actually take a stance for once in my life and speak out against the senseless genocide currently going on in Rwanda.

66. Become left-handed.

67. That episode of “Walker Texas Ranger,” where Walker needs to thwart a terrorist attack so he visits a kooky old inventor and then uses a jet pack to get to the top of a roof, I want to do that.

68. Get myself into good enough shape to make it onto a major league baseball team and then set the single-season record for bunts.

69. Blog more

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A newborn baby comprised not of flesh and blood but of words and ideas has been birthed into the blogsphere.

An infant genius of unfathomable acumen, morality, humor and intelligence has been released and allowed to blossom amongst the internets.

A living, breathing, malleable blog-being with novel ideas, fresh perspective, biting wit and a scathing tongue will now run free within and forever change the World Wide Web.

A bored dude who steals his neighbor’s wireless connection will occasionally post some shit for his 12 friends.

The Crain Train is coming through, get on board, ya’ll.

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