We continue our week long look at bucket lists.
CAROL PATRIZI’S BUCKET LIST
- Get a job that doesn’t require her to work with more a-holes than you find in a jumbo pack of hot dogs.
- Become so accepted here in Wisconsin that when locals call her a FIB they mean “Favorite Info Broad”.
- Have someone else here at the radio station take over the onerous responsibility of feeding and caring for the giant bug up Len’s ass.
- To just once come into this studio and not have it smelling like somebody just perforated Kaukauna’s bowels.
- One of these times when Rick interrupts her during the news for him to choke to death on his own tongue.
- To convince people that just because she’s Italian doesn’t mean she has mafia connections without having to threaten to have them whacked.
- To one day realize that being a Chicago White Sox fan is sadder than a six-pack of baby coffins.
- Working up the nerve to tell her husband and children what she actually does for a living.
- Find somebody else to cover the cost of the expensive electroshock therapy required to cure her of the tragic mental illness that causes her to think that navy and orange are acceptable colors to wear during football season.
- Finally get a last name that doesn’t sound like an Olive Garden side dish or a virulent strain of gonorrhea.
