Greetings. I just learned that Metallica will be on the Simpsons this season - which makes me wonder, which is more sad?
That Metallica has completely lost any street cred and is staring on the deflated iconic/ironic guest star of the week cartoon? Or that the once great iconic/ironic cartoon show has booked Metallica in an effort to regain its lost street cred?
Now allow me a moment to fill you in on a personal mater. In case you didn't know, I'm due to be a daddy on the 11th - which up until this week - was always referred to as "July". July was a VERY longtime away back in January... and now it's the 11th --And of course, even this is just guess work. Apparently this thing could start at any moment. Most folk's tell you the first one is always late. They'll sneak this wisdom in after telling you every horror story they know about child birth.
"When my kid came out with a second head growing out of it's chest. You know? Like in that movie, Total Recall? Yeah, it was pretty creepy! Oh, and the first one is usually late... And my sister had a kid that had scales and could only survive in sea water. They named him Namor...."
If it were up to me, the kid would have been born on the 4th. Not because of the political coolness or fireworks on his/her birthday - but for pure selfishness. As a person who does not have a normal job let it be known that NO ONE works this week. More accurately, no one in America works - and if they do it isn't very hard, and they absolutely aren't bringing in outside help when half the office is out on vacation to Brizzbyland. So it would have been good for this 'birth' thing to be out of the way in a dark spot on the schedule.
However, any discussion of inducing or C-Sections were right out because all the sudden my wife has gotten all 'Earth Mother' crunchy as all items regarding our unborn child go. She even refused to take cough syrup after I got her sick with Bronchitis! That's just silly! Me? I was self-medicating with 12 year old Scotch and heavy doses of NyQuil. After the death rattle in my throat ruined my peaceful NyQuil induced coma, I decided it would probably be good to see an MD. He put me on even MORE drugs. 'Well, at least she won't get it', was my reasoning.
She got it anyway. And a pregnant woman in the 9th month who just happens to come down with the exact same illness you just had is... I mean, do I have to spell this out?
So if my entries are erratic this month or next, you'll know why. Happy to be on board. Cap'n
Impious since 2006
2 comments:
Be proud of me, for I suspect I may be growing as a person. No, I'm not referring to my weight. Not, um, not this time, anyway. No, this time I'm referring to the rather miraculous event of my stopping just SHY of shooting from the hip and potentially offending a respected friend.
You see, I was going to post a message welcoming Cap'n to our happenin' little hoe-down-- a message that was going to contain a line filled with embellished trepidation over the new "substance over style" movement that his presence will no doubt herald.
The phrase "substance over style" would have been intended to be both (a) complimentary to Cap'n and (b) self-deprecating. However, I realized --ALMOST belatedly, but not quite-- that it might also be construed as a backhand to the cheek of his style. (I'm sure there's a joke to be had here about somebody having a "cheeky" style, but what the hell do I know? I'm just a truck driver.) At any rate, backhanding anybody's style would have been purely unintentional. Instead, I'll simply say...
Welcome, Cap'n.
I look forward to your leadership.
Signed, Fletcher Christian.
Well, that's just great - pressure to have actual substance to my messages...
You mean the amazing ability to channel obscure references isn't a style?
Noted, and this ought to be fun.
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