ChristianTreubig.com
Personalized Solutions in an Impersonal World

Solved Problems

May 28, 2015, 12:29 a.m.
My son and I are on a road trip in the Great Smokey Mountains. We pulled over for a quick roadside pee, and because we enjoy fun, we decided to run off into the woods for a quick round of hide-and-seek. I’m the seeker, and expected an easy find on this bright moonlit night. Outta nowhere we get hit a total lunar eclipse. Now my son is nowhere to be found. I’m hearing wolves. I’m already in hot water with my wife for scheduling the PTA’s charity softball game (benefiting folks with circadian rhythm sleep disorders) on the same day as a total solar eclipse. Please, help me find my son.
May 19, 2015, 11:37 p.m.
After leading a long and arduous M&A sprint for my father’s fracking conglomerate, I’m finally taking a much deserved sabbatical starting this Saturday. I tasked my butler with arranging my travel itinerary to Surrey. The idiot goes and buys a coach ticket, both ways. He’s been fired, evicted, and replaced, but what am I supposed to do with this ticket? First-class is full on all flights. I’m not swine. I’m a Chadwick!
May 7, 2015, 9:43 p.m.
I work for Comcast, in their new remote-remote division. If your TV remote's AAs run out, but you prefer remaining on your loveseat, you can call me on your cell and I’ll manipulate your cable box for you via my workstation. We charge a buck to change the volume and two bucks to change the channel. I’m great at my job, but I’m sick. Have been all darn week. My temperature exceeds every FM station pre-programmed into my Kia. Quarterly bonuses get set next week and I can’t even make it into the office. My numbers are taking a huge hit. I can’t afford to miss out on my bonus.
April 29, 2015, 10:17 p.m.
So I’m making an appearance at the funeral of my best bro Devin’s great auntie Claudia. Me and D-Liberate hugged it out and cried a little, but as I walked away he said, “Hey, wish Tanya a happy birthday for me.” Damn, forgot it’s my girl’s 24th. Dinner’s at her place in ten minutes. I’ve got no gift and $13 cash, and a card with a black-and-white picture of some creek below an old tree that has “Sorry for your loss” printed on the inside. She said I can forget five birthdays during the life of our relationship, then it’s splitsville. I hit the limit 365 days ago. I don’t want to lose her!
April 23, 2015, 11:15 p.m.
I’m not a good-looking person. Neither is my wife. To put things bluntly, we’re both exceptionally ugly. In high school, I was voted “Least Likely to Continue their Family Name” and my wife was voted “Most Physically Unattractive Person with Nothing Particularly Wrong with them.” Despite pleas from our neighbors and OB/GYN to not reproduce, we recently had a healthy baby boy. We posted photos to Facebook. The comments online have been scathing. I can’t even bring myself to type the things said about little Geno’s appearance. He’ll grow up one day to read these horrible things. What to do?