Profile: Todd Smith
History
- Member for
- 1 year 33 weeks
Recently written
The Christmas Carcass
For the past eight winters, I've sold Christmas trees in the Twin Cities. Part of my job on the Christmas tree lot includes delivering and setting up Christmas trees. Here is an inside look into the absurd world of holiday decorating.
"My Christmas tree smells like pickles," the irate customer barks into the phone. "Like! Pickles!"
"Excuse me?" I reply, holding the phone away from my ear.
Christmas Barfed All Over My Tree
For the past eight winters, I've sold Christmas trees in the Twin Cities. Shopping for a Christmas tree is universally regarded as a joyous yuletide experience. But selling Christmas trees can be a brutal and sometimes sordid job. Here is an inside look at life on the Christmas tree lot.
Thanksgiving with the A-Holes
To no one's surprise, things turned quite feisty at my family's Thanksgiving dinner this year. After several rounds of turkey and pleasantries, the conversation started popping. Here is a slice of dialogue with an extra helping of sauce.
"I'm soooooo over that show Lost."
"Yeah, totally. Look at me! I turned a giant wheel and the island disappeared! I hate that show."
"I hate your sweater."
"No one wears rolled neck sweaters anymore."
The Suckfest
The Secrets of the City, the newly launched Rake website, is now one of the Twin Cities coolest publications. It is a web site chock full of outstanding suggestions for great nights out on the town. Whether it is theater, movies, restaurant, or a banging new downtown club, The Secrets of the City has got the Twin Cities covered. The wildly popular “Secrets of the Day” section leads Twin City trendsetters from one awesome happening to the next. Sadly, though, I do not participate in any of it. I suck. Roy
The Annual Fleet Farm Pilgrimage Turns Political
Two men stood next to an end cap in the hunting aisle of Mills Fleet Farm. After a few minutes of looking at the duck calls on display, the men decided to open a few boxes and test them out, right there in the middle of the store. The men drew a series of quick breaths in and out, doing some sort of hyperventilation jig. Instantly, an orchestra of honking and quacking erupted, and the primal sounds of waterfowl burst throughout the entire store. After a few back and forth repetitions, the duo quickly turned into a duck quacking jam band.
