Loren Tate: Call me Borin' Loren

Loren Tate: Call me Borin' Loren

SPOOKYVILLE —  It’s Halloween ... a perfect occasion to introduce the Most UNinteresting Man in the World.

He’s out there. You’ll recognize him.

When he bobs for apples, he comes up with a lemon.

While trick-or-treaters knock at his door, he’s prowling the neighborhood demanding Heath Bars.

When the vampire bites his neck, the vampire throws up.

When the host says, “How about a snifter?” he blows his nose.

At the unmasking hour, he leaves his on.

Most glasses are half-full, his is quarter-full and leaking.

His upbringing was scarred by familial links to the Cubs.

He is always the death of the party.

Even witches turn up their noses.

He is: The Most UNinteresting Man in the World.

Stay thirsty, my friends.

He’s so unsophisticated that when he orders wine, all he can think of is red.

He believes mistletoe is for everybody else.

If he could live vicariously through someone, it would be Pee-Wee Herman.

His poker buddies let him win occasional pots to keep him coming back.

He has the same luck hailing a cab as flagging a locomotive.

There would be no gutters if he hadn’t attempted to bowl.

He’s so old that his birthday candles cost more than the cake.

At dinner with the option of two forks, he waits until someone else chooses.

When opportunity knocks, his hearing aid fails.

He carries a note pad to remind himself why he’s there.

He won’t dive into the pool for fear his trunks will fall off ... like before.

Signing up for a post-mortem organ donation, he thinks it is for him.

He still plays Chopsticks on the piano.

He is: The Most UNinteresting Man in the World.

Stay thirsty, my friends.
Handed an imported $32 Double Corona, he lights the wrong end.

Without his DNA, stupid pills would not be effective.

He is neither lover nor fighter nor anything in between.

Guard duty means protecting him from himself.

When he is asked to dance, he never gets a mulligan.

Sympathetic panhandlers shower him with quarters.

He can show his feminine side without pretending.

When his manhood is challenged, he declines.

He irons his pants, and they wrinkle within seconds.

When a woman asks him to hold her purse ... wait, no woman would ever do that.

He wonders why people never laugh at his jokes.

When he leaves a tip, he regrets it ... as does the waitress.

He is: The Most UNinteresting Man in the World.

He is me.

Loren Tate writes for The News-Gazette. He can be reached at ltate@news-gazette.com.


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Moonpie wrote on October 31, 2013 at 11:10 am

One of the oddest columns by one of the oddest sports writers ever. But at least for a change he didn't elbow the fans, though I better have a second look.

azfan wrote on October 31, 2013 at 12:10 pm

Cowpie-What the hell kind of a life do you have if all you do is wait for Tate to write something so you can complain. Sure glad you don't run a suicide hotline or do you?