Still Typically Lugubrious Days
Yeah, yeah, I don't write much here (or anywhere) anymore.
Deal with it.
Hey, how are you? I didn't mean to be so terse . . . heh.
OK, so I had a gig the other day. I loaded up the car. Of course,
it was low on gas. So I drove (past the gas station on this side
of the highway where I've refused to buy gas for several years
because one time the old guy who worked there in the wee
hours of the night ran out to yell at me because I had put
"too much" trash from my car into their barrel...and I quickly
figured out that they could do without the thousands of dollars
per year I spend on gas) and made a u-turn to hit the station
on the other side.
I decided to go inside to buy a drink for the road. As soon as
I stepped inside, my olfactory senses were attacked by what
could only be an "it saves me from having to shower" amount
of cologne, eminating from the attendant. Ugh.
I quickly grabbed a bottle from the case and handed it to
The Great Unwashed to ring up. Then I hit the road.
Note: if the person ringing up your sale touches your
stuff....and they are wearing some offensive scent (and
really, how many worn scents are NOT offensive??) ....
it WILL end up on your purchase. I spent the ride
trying to remember NOT to breathe in when putting
the bottle to my lips.
All that "remembering" must have overloaded my
synapses because I forgot where I was going. I knew
which equipment I had in the back of the car. Based
on the things I had with me there were only two places
I might be going, so I waited. It would come to me.
As I got within two miles of the exit on the highway I'd
have to take if it was "Place A" I still had no clue. So
I called my musical partner-in-crime. "Where are we
playing tonight?"
He told me, mere seconds before I would have had to
make the turn. But it was not to be. It was "Place B".
Forge ahead. Well....that was close. Relax. Take a
deep breath. Have a drink. NO! WAIT!!! Don't breathe
.....too late.
I can't get all nerved up on the road anymore because I
decided to stop biting my fingernails. It's weird having
little knives on the ends of all my fingers - how do
women live this way???
Speaking of living....
Have you seen that Molson Canadian beer ad? The
one where someone knocks over a beer and an
entire "Canadian wilderness" springs up from the
beer puddle???
Um....just how often do they CLEAN that bar??? I
think I'd start looking elsewhere for my leisure
activities.
Deal with it.
Hey, how are you? I didn't mean to be so terse . . . heh.
OK, so I had a gig the other day. I loaded up the car. Of course,
it was low on gas. So I drove (past the gas station on this side
of the highway where I've refused to buy gas for several years
because one time the old guy who worked there in the wee
hours of the night ran out to yell at me because I had put
"too much" trash from my car into their barrel...and I quickly
figured out that they could do without the thousands of dollars
per year I spend on gas) and made a u-turn to hit the station
on the other side.
I decided to go inside to buy a drink for the road. As soon as
I stepped inside, my olfactory senses were attacked by what
could only be an "it saves me from having to shower" amount
of cologne, eminating from the attendant. Ugh.
I quickly grabbed a bottle from the case and handed it to
The Great Unwashed to ring up. Then I hit the road.
Note: if the person ringing up your sale touches your
stuff....and they are wearing some offensive scent (and
really, how many worn scents are NOT offensive??) ....
it WILL end up on your purchase. I spent the ride
trying to remember NOT to breathe in when putting
the bottle to my lips.
All that "remembering" must have overloaded my
synapses because I forgot where I was going. I knew
which equipment I had in the back of the car. Based
on the things I had with me there were only two places
I might be going, so I waited. It would come to me.
As I got within two miles of the exit on the highway I'd
have to take if it was "Place A" I still had no clue. So
I called my musical partner-in-crime. "Where are we
playing tonight?"
He told me, mere seconds before I would have had to
make the turn. But it was not to be. It was "Place B".
Forge ahead. Well....that was close. Relax. Take a
deep breath. Have a drink. NO! WAIT!!! Don't breathe
.....too late.
I can't get all nerved up on the road anymore because I
decided to stop biting my fingernails. It's weird having
little knives on the ends of all my fingers - how do
women live this way???
Speaking of living....
Have you seen that Molson Canadian beer ad? The
one where someone knocks over a beer and an
entire "Canadian wilderness" springs up from the
beer puddle???
Um....just how often do they CLEAN that bar??? I
think I'd start looking elsewhere for my leisure
activities.
posted by Mr. L at 12:56 PM
2 Comments:
I forget where I'm going all the time. Unfortunately, I never have bad cologne to blame for my scatterbrainitude.
Once, when I had Lyme Disease really badly, I forgot where the hell the cruise control was in my car. You might want to have that checked, bro. The cologne thing makes me think that nostril tampons might not be a bad idea.
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