Nosebleeds are never good. Nosebleeds and running on a cold day? What’s worse.


Yesterday, I went for a jog.

The sun was starting to go down, and it was chilly. Twenties, maybe.

I haven’t been feeling well, but it’s been forever since I jogged. My sleep suffers more when I haven’t exercised.

So off I went. With Talulah.

I don’t have a lot of winter gear, so I bundled up in miscellaneous layers and hoped for the best. While I ran, Tina decided to go Christmas shopping at Target.

As I ran, my phone dinged several times with Target panic questions about whether Tina should buy slippers for her cousin’s husband.

I don’t know about you. But unless it’s an emergency, when I’m running, don’t text me.

After receiving a text with a photo of the slippers, I sent a gentle text reminder back to Tina that said, “Stop fucking texting me. I’m running.”

About fifteen minutes later, I was on mile three. I stopped to take this image of the city from Diversey Harbor.

I wiped my nose with my sleeve, and there was blood all over.

“Damn, I have a nosebleed.”

As I stood there, wiping blood flowing out my right nostril, the sweat from the first three miles started seeping into my clothing, which wasn’t thick enough given the day.

I started to panic, because I was too far from home. Traffic at that hour and this time of year is voluminously awful. Since I was freezing, I couldn’t stop and wait someplace. Since I was bleeding, I didn’t have the guts to go into a store, which would have been at least a mile run from my location.

So I started home, texting Tina. My mind was so warped that calling her seemed too difficult.

My texts were, “Please help!!!!! Blood everywhere.”

And, “I’m scared.”

I almost wrote, “I’m going to die out here.”

I hoped and dreamed that she would fully comprehend my situation, go rent a helicopter and swoop in and pick me up.

Or a bat jet.

By the time I got home, my sleeves were covered in blood stains. Talulah didn’t understand what was up. She just wanted water and a warm blanket.

After a brief heated exchange with Tina over the phone for not renting a helicopter to save me, all was well again in the Wittifini household.

The moral of the story is: picking your nose gives you nosebleeds.

No, wait, that’s not it.

It’s make sure you have a helicopter ready during the Christmas season to swoop in and pickup loved ones when they’re down and out and need help.



People are dying left and right, because of this war … on Christmas


Some of FOX News’ and Bill O’Reilly’s war on Christmas is raging again this year, as you’ll clearly see in the above video.

Let me say this, if your Christmas is ruined because some atheist asshole organization doesn’t want to call the public tree a “Christmas” tree, you should check to see if you’re not the asshole who doesn’t know how to have fun.

If your day is ruined because the lady jingling bells raising money for all kinds of religious people over the holiday season, perhaps you’re the one with the inabillity to celebrate correctly.

Maybe your brain is handicapped and your ability to have fun is crippled.

Because the rest of us are going to celebrate … hopefully without your stank-face clogging up our celebration muscles.

Here’s more.