Total tick count is two - - so far. I went to the country for the weekend and all I have to show for it is a couple of parasites burrowed into my crotch.
I lie. I also have a nice beard. I'm a hairy bugger y'all. And I'm debating keeping the mustache. Yeah, I know, mustaches are really out of vogue (even Tom Selleck finally ditched his). But I ask this in all seriousness, aren't they due for a comeback? The time is probably right for one.
I once knew this guy who continued to wear bell-bottoms well into the eighties when straight legged (or even tapered legs) were the demin kings. He loved his mighty flared pants and hung tenaciously onto them until finally he had to cry uncle and send them to dump. A few months after he bought his first pair of straight legs, bell-bottoms were chic again.
And so you see the hardcore mustache wearers are shaving there's off in droves. Surely a resurgence is in order. So maybe I'll keep mine and play it off as a gag. I won't let anyone know I'm trying to be preliminarily fashionable. I have a mighty mustache and await the coming trend and hope in my heart that hairy chests are not far behind.
I just got back from the country and my unread e-mail count is 400+ messages. Apple's mail has tagged 300 of them as junk so I disregard those and begin reading the rest. As I begin to read the rest it's painfully clear that spam blockers have a long, long way to go. It's all junk-mail, most having to do with viagra. I assume viagra is now America's drug of choice. Sorry oxicotonn you'll have to be content with the silver.
Usually, I can send messages to trash bin after reading there giveaway subject line. But occasionally some miss this test and get read. Case in point: The subject line that read, "regarding your ministry training." I bit the hook and opened the message.
"Become a legally ordained minister within 48 hours
As a minister, you will be authorized to perform the rites and ceremonies of the church!
Perform Weddings, Funerals, Perform Baptisms, Forgiveness of Sins
Visit Correctional Facilities
Want to start your own church?"
I thought it was funny. In less than 48 hours you can become a minister? What have I been doing all these years?
In case you haven't heard my apple pie scored third in taste and dead laste in presentation. The pink lady apples make delicious dfilling. It was only my crust that caused it to lose. I lay the blame fully at baking instructions which told me to mix the topping until it resembled "wet sand". Wet sand? I did my best to follow the painfully obscure directions. Truth told, I didn't stand a chance because my aunt was really working over the judges. She took first place because of her secret ingredient, raisons. My secret ingredient, love, was just not good enough.
The talent show went off without a hitch. They went through a dull period but now they are really firing again. It didn't let me down. There was the token man in drag act and even a little black-face thrown in. This of course was my father doing a really bad Oprah impersonation. There was a hog calling contest, a claymation video, a judge-judy skit, and it closed with my uncle playing his sad country songs.
We had the family auction. The proceeds usually go toward maintenance and upkeep at the cabin but this time they were secretly being donated to my Dad to help with his medical bills due to his failing kidney. The "children's" book that I wrote and my sister Amanda illustrated and printed brought in over $300.00. It was embarrassing that it went for that much, as
it was filled with soggy sentiment and painful nostalgia. But in a way I feel good because I'm helping out my father in a small way.
I'm sorry to drone on but I must recount my Saturday morning run. It was going well and I was enjoying the change of scenery. However, I kept scanning the tree-tops waiting for a panther or something to pounce on to me. When I got to the end of the road, right before turning back five dogs came out of the woods. These were not miniature poodles. These were big, bad-a, country mongrels. They barked. I dropped to a walk. They growled. I didn't want to placate there primal urges and run. They would imagine me a gazelle or something and chase after me. I didn't let on that I was scared. I just ignored them and walked for a mile. Eventually they lost interest, thank the Lord, and turned back.
I'm done for now. I'll tell you about scrabble some other time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment