Once upon a time I was asked to share a bad pick up line and I offered, “I am looking for a new sperm bank” and was told that might not be as bad as I thought.
Given my virgin ears, prudish background and an assortment of priests and rabbis standing within earshot I was shocked.
Shocked I tell you, but not so much that I refused to answer if I prayed to a particular saint.
“Why yes my good people, my patron saint is our lady of getting lucky and blessed acceleration.”
Yeah, I worked in a Blues Brothers line but could have moved straight into three lines from Tommy Makem, Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond. Hell, I could have pulled off the Shmata Queen special but that would have caused massive air sucking and a deep need for advanced math.
If you feel like you are not following and or are following some but missing other parts don’t worry because you are not supposed to know all of it. Hell, I am rolling now and I haven’t a clue where I am going with it.
Might tell you that you haven’t read half the shit I have posted recently or that you haven’t read most of what I have written in general so there is no way you could keep up anyway.
I am in a particular sort of mood, the kind that leads me on some particular adventures. Going to shoot the moon or go broke.
I Consumed An Alien
I consumed an alien last night though I had no idea it was posing as a piece of food or what kind of food it was.
That little bugger hit me out of the blue and I proved yet again that a motivated man can lead over fences, bushes and outrun cars trying to pull into a neighbor’s driveway.
I also proved the importance of tightening the bolts on the toilet so that it doesn’t get ripped off of the floor.
Anyhoo, when the family called out and asked if a New Orleans marching band was in the bathroom too playing When The Saints Go Marching In I grunted something that was supposed to mean yes.
And then I made like Jacob wrestling the angel alternating between great anger and exhaustion. Tried to tap out three or maybe it was seven times but no one tapped in so I squared my shoulders, planted my feet and rode my trusty steed into the depths of Hell.
I do believe I did battle with Hades, Beelzebub, three house cats and the head of the Brussels Sprouts Foundation.
The referees are still scoring the battle so I can’t say I won nor can I say that I lost. But I can promise you my adversaries haven’t forgotten me and that I need repaint and retile the bathroom.
Got to remember that life is an adventure and to live it that way.
There is no punctuation mark next to next because I can’t decide if I want to use a period, question or exclamation mark.
If you haven’t read one of these posts before it might come as a shock and I can’t say whether it is the good kind or that other one that you don’t particularly like.
And even if you have read this and 10,000 others you might find it annoying and or aggravating.
Maybe you wish I was a mind reader and understood things or maybe you are aggravated because I read between the lines and am the bringer of storms.
Don’t know, I am just dancing in the fire making it up as I go along ‘cuz it is what I know to do. There is no real rhyme nor reason, no plan on paper though there is sort of one inside my head.
Got a pied piper playing a song and waving his hand at me to follow along so I am, though I told him that I might stop on December 31.
When he asked I said because and said I might keep going too. Depends on a host of things and whatever I say can be adjusted if necessary because I won’t paint myself in a corner but neither will I dance without reason.
So the band played on and I walked across the bridge into the garden to see what lay on the other side.
And then I discovered…