Tuesday, Tuesday. Not much to say about Tuesday, is there? It's thankfully not Monday, and that's about all it really has going for it. It's a shame, now that I think about it. Two days start with T, and they're both basically known just for not being their neighboring days. Thursday is "almost Friday" and Tuesday just "isn't Monday." Compare the T days to the S days, and I think you'll find that they're on exact opposite sides of the Day Prestige Spectrum. Gotta love the DPS.
Man, I'm a weirdo. I just re-read that paragraph and even I don't know what the hell has gotten into me. At least I stopped myself before turning this whole post into arguing the exact order of a made-up scale. (For the record, Tuesday nabs the penultimate spot because of its relationship to elections; Thursday ain't got shit.) Instead, I'm going to talk about other things that don't make any sense.
It was in the year 2000 that a very strange thing happened. Well, I'm sure several strange things happened, but I'm just talking about one right now. Dave and I came home from getting some food (98% probability that it was a burrito) and were just going to chill the rest of the night and watch some tv. Dusty and his old girlfriend had left earlier to go up north for the weekend, and the two of us were just going to be lazy slobs the whole time. First, I went upstairs to my room to see if I had any messages. There was one. I listened to it, then went out into the hallway. "Um, Dave?" I yelled downstairs, "Can you come up here for a minute?" He came in and asked what was up. I hit the play button again, and a oddly-affected Dusty's voice started speaking. Here's what we heard, "Uh, hey Pete, blrubnaebgirwj, hit a bear, smackiden, toad'll deduct, pretty shaken up, we're both ok though. Talk to you later."
"What the hell was that?" he asked. "You see why I called you up here?" We listed again and again, turning our ears toward the machine as if that would help us grasp the situation better. After the third time, we were sure that he had hit a bear with his truck. After the sixth time, we realized it totaled the truck. "Is he saying 'smacked it dead?'" we kept asking each other. After another five or six listens, we agreed: "Hit a bear. Smacked it dead."
The next day, we got the full story. A bear had been driven out of the woods by a forest fire and had wandered onto the freeway. It was pitch black out there, and Dusty managed to swerve a little at the last second, or else it would've been even worse. His car was very messed up, but he and his girlfriend were ok. The bear was not ok, although Dusty denies that he said "smacked it dead."
There's a silver lining to this story: Dusty learned that he can torment me with cryptic messages. Years later, I got a text message that said this: "Ambulance was waiting for me when our plane landed. Everyone let me go first, probably because of the dried blood all over my shirt." That's it. I didn't even know he was going anywhere, so I really wanted to hear what was going on. Instead, I had to play 20 questions with him via text message to get the whole story, because he refused to just tell me.
Man, I'm a weirdo. I just re-read that paragraph and even I don't know what the hell has gotten into me. At least I stopped myself before turning this whole post into arguing the exact order of a made-up scale. (For the record, Tuesday nabs the penultimate spot because of its relationship to elections; Thursday ain't got shit.) Instead, I'm going to talk about other things that don't make any sense.
It was in the year 2000 that a very strange thing happened. Well, I'm sure several strange things happened, but I'm just talking about one right now. Dave and I came home from getting some food (98% probability that it was a burrito) and were just going to chill the rest of the night and watch some tv. Dusty and his old girlfriend had left earlier to go up north for the weekend, and the two of us were just going to be lazy slobs the whole time. First, I went upstairs to my room to see if I had any messages. There was one. I listened to it, then went out into the hallway. "Um, Dave?" I yelled downstairs, "Can you come up here for a minute?" He came in and asked what was up. I hit the play button again, and a oddly-affected Dusty's voice started speaking. Here's what we heard, "Uh, hey Pete, blrubnaebgirwj, hit a bear, smackiden, toad'll deduct, pretty shaken up, we're both ok though. Talk to you later."
"What the hell was that?" he asked. "You see why I called you up here?" We listed again and again, turning our ears toward the machine as if that would help us grasp the situation better. After the third time, we were sure that he had hit a bear with his truck. After the sixth time, we realized it totaled the truck. "Is he saying 'smacked it dead?'" we kept asking each other. After another five or six listens, we agreed: "Hit a bear. Smacked it dead."
The next day, we got the full story. A bear had been driven out of the woods by a forest fire and had wandered onto the freeway. It was pitch black out there, and Dusty managed to swerve a little at the last second, or else it would've been even worse. His car was very messed up, but he and his girlfriend were ok. The bear was not ok, although Dusty denies that he said "smacked it dead."
There's a silver lining to this story: Dusty learned that he can torment me with cryptic messages. Years later, I got a text message that said this: "Ambulance was waiting for me when our plane landed. Everyone let me go first, probably because of the dried blood all over my shirt." That's it. I didn't even know he was going anywhere, so I really wanted to hear what was going on. Instead, I had to play 20 questions with him via text message to get the whole story, because he refused to just tell me.
A couple of months later, I got another text message: "Lawyer said I could plea down to avoid jail time. Might have community service." He knew that amount of information alone would drive me crazy, so another round of questioning went on. It wasn't actually anywhere as interesting as his text message made it sound, but that was part of the point.
I got one more of his cryptic messages, but I can't remember if I ever found out the story behind it. "Fulfilled another life dream: made citizen's arrest." I need to follow up on that one. If I had to guess, I'd go with some hit and run where he followed the guy while on the phone with the police. I'll let you know how close I am.
Happy boring Tuesday, friends. It's the 1 month anniversary of St. Patrick's Day, at least. And the 46th anniversary of the Bay of Pigs Invasion. Ooh, it's the 21st anniversary of something I've never heard of (gotta love Wikipedia): Today, in 1986, the treaty was signed to end the Three Hundred and Thirty Five Years' War between the Netherlands and the Isles of Scilly. Wow. That's not a typo, and I really wish I were creative enough to make that up. That's my favorite fact of the week. Ya know what, Tuesday? I have the feeling you'll be climbing the DPS in no time.
6 comments:
Well, today is also Income Tax filing due date this year...a real cause for celebration. And FYI, things should be okay once the object is removed and the swelling goes down.
You're right about Tuesday. It never held any magic for me. But....This year, after 35 years in business, I decided to take one day off a week. I chose Tuesdays, because it was a real nothing of a day. So now, Tuesdays have been almost elevated to an "S" day for me. I work out, play golf or just spend some time with my sweetie.
I love Tuesdays!!!!
If I've learned one thing from writing this blog, it's that you can't deny the power of genetics. Look at my parents' posts and tell me if I had any chance coming out normal.
Today something new happened at work...that will have its anniversary celebrated by Kevin and the IT gang. It involves burts of air and soiled bvds.
I'm okay now. They got the wasp out of my ear!
I feel the need to defend poor Thursday. Thurs is usually my favorite day of the week, and Sunday, poor ugly Sunday, my least favorite. I know a number of people who dislike Sundays. I'm related to all of them, so I'm not sure if that counts for anything.
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