INDIGNITY VOL. 3, NO. 43: Where's Charles Atlas when you need him?


INDIGNITY VOL. 3, NO. 43: Where's Charles Atlas when you need him?

MR WRONG: Some Kid Tried to Bully My Beach-Ready Toes.

RIGHT NOW AS you are reading this (or having it read to you, or maybe at least getting help sounding out the big words) I am on vacation, personally! Arrooo! It is important to have a good balance of doing Nothing to offset having to do stuff, for money, so you can then sit around and do Nothing! That’s what I am doing right now, sort of, because I am writing about doing Nothing but technically I am doing Something by right now in my own timeline pooping out the latest steaming-fresh iteration of The Mr. Wrong Column! So it’s like, a suspension of disbelief for you, Gentle Reader, as you imagine me doing my own brand of Nothing, being on my vacation, even though I had to do the amount of something that I am doing right now to describe my non-activity. Now who wants to do Nothing? Let’s go!

Speaking of a whole lotta Nothing, the Mr. Wrong Column is always doing and being! Always Be Columning! That is how the Mr. Wrong Column persists, and endures, with an Ethos, even, manifesting itself over the years, feasting upon many hosts, now firmly muckled onto the INDIGNITY enterprise, and if enough of you Gentle Readers cough up some PAID SUBSCRIPTION dough, Indignity and the Mr. Wrong Column will continue in this manner, and thrive, even!

Back to me and my vacation, though; most of my vacation is occurring in Florida, and I don’t know how you feel about Florida, but right now, “it’s a free country,” as the expression goes, so I will keep visiting it until it’s not a free country, or Florida becomes another country, maybe, because lots of States of The Union are always making noises about how they wanna be their own Country, like Texas, with their own personal power grid (that didn’t go so well) or there are folks inside states who a different state, like, there’s people in Oregon who don’t wanna hire a moving van, they just want to be part of another state that is touching their state, in this case Idaho, a perfectly good state, one of those squarish or at least real big ones with hardly any people in it, and wow, it’s a free country, right? If you want to try and use the Democratic Process and get some lines drawn that put your house someplace else, go for it, write your Congressional Representative or whatever, because it’s a Free Country, for now, but jeez, there’s easier ways!

What the hell does Idaho have to do with my vacation, I know, I’m sorry, I don’t know how I got there, so let’s get back to me, being vacant in Florida. My wife wanted to get her nails done before our big trip to shove our toes in the sand along the Gulf of Mexico, and I went along with her and got a pedicure. Have you ever gotten a pedicure? Holy wow, I would get one of these every week if I had more disposable income! The place where my wife gets it done has these massage chairs, and you can control ‘em, and I totally got the kink in my shoulder worked out while I was getting my toenails filed and the rough parts on my feet sanded off (it tickles) and then my whole foot shoved into a bag of hot wax, boy does that feel good! I might be getting this outta order, but then I got my feet dropped into a whirlpool bath, and a foot and calf massage (tickles) and then they paint your toenails any color you want, or even clear. I went for a metallic black, and I’m not saying I could be a foot model or anything, but my tootsies look pretty good, just saying.

So I’m here on my big vacation, in Florida, using up a buncha gift cards for Starbucks, and I’m wearing flip-flops on account of I am on vacation in a Beach Community, and while I’m waiting for my order (the biggest-size Frappuccino with two shots of espresso), there’s this little kid mean-muggin’ me and looking at my feet! Painted toes! I’m sorry, but the way this brat looked at me, it was total Bully-Hate! I’ve been on both sides of the coin in grade school, I’ve been bullied, and because I didn’t want to be bullied, I became a bully at times, and this was a complete vibe here in Florida at a fucking Starbucks, ugh. So this just me with my Theory now, but there’s all this stuff about Drag Queens in Florida, right? They are bad and they are “grooming” children to be Drag Queens, according to intolerant people here. So my painted toenails could put me at least partially in the category of Drag Queen! I didn’t say shit to this child. I got my order and went on to enjoy my day. This kid was with his parents, I’m gonna assume, but I guarantee he wanted to be in a big group of like-minded kids and point at me and call me a name, I’m guessing, and since you Don’t Say Gay in Florida anymore, by Law, I’m betting it was another (totally legal) three-letter word, you know? Kinda ruined my vacation a little.


★★★★ The morning sky was smoothly overcast, with the sun a round white blob through the trees in the Park. Opposite the doctor's office window, by Columbus Circle, a man smoked a cigarette on a 14th or 15th floor balcony, surrounded by plants and furniture. The sun's share of the sky widened and brightened, and blue began to show through the cloud layer. It was a bit too cool out for the lightest jacket. By 2, the blue parts were clear. A child dragged a stick along the cinder track on the Great Hill, clutching a nosegay of harvested golden daffodils in the other hand. The air on 105th Street smelled of flowers. The sun was warm where it shone, but it could never quite establish itself to stay. That didn’t stop men from venturing out in shorts and sandals. Beside the worn strip in Morningside Park where kids had attempted to sled three weeks before, the slope was solid daffodils, white this time. Blossoms were starting to come out on tree after tree, in every color. Dogs lingered for sniffing sessions, with the indulgence of the people walking them.

Indignity Morning Podcast No. 36: The same source echoing back and forth.
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The Indignity Morning Podcast is also available via the Apple and Spotify platforms.


WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS for the assembly of select sandwiches from Club House Cook Book: Favorite Recipes Collected by The Tuesday Club House Association, published in 1904, found in the public domain and available at for the delectation of all.


1 pt. ripe olives
1/2 c. blanched almonds
red pepper

Pit and chop the olives; chop almonds; mix together with mayonnaise and season. Spread between slices of wheat bread. Slices of boiled tongue can be added if desired.
—Mrs. C. F. Prentiss.


Wash lettuce thoroughly and place on ice one hour or more. Cut wheat bread very thin, spread with butter on one side and mayonnaise, in which a clove of garlic has been rubbed; on the other. Put lettuce leaf between, press firmly, cover with a damp napkin till ready for use. Serve as soon as possible.
—Mrs. F. A. E

If you decide to prepare and attempt to enjoy a sandwich inspired by these offerings, kindly send a picture to us at

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