FUF #27

And in the end (of the work week), the FUF you take is equal to the FUF you make. At least I think I heard that somewhere once.

Happy Follow Up Friday, friends and friends of friends. As is customary, I shall spend this post a-ramblin' about things that are related to this week's posts, things that are completely unrelated, and then dazzle you with the hottest trend since going to rehab: Car Watch.

I spent a couple of posts talking about the Rope Trail. There's an epilogue to that tale that I didn't find a place for, so it's about to get FUFfed. Later in the summer that we found the trail, there was a "find the hiding counselors" game one afternoon. We gave them time to hide and then set out to find them and secure their signatures as proof. After going around with the rest of the campers for a while, my buddies and I decided to check out the Rope Trail just in case any of the counselors knew about it. As we started climbing the hill, one other kid ran up and started following us. "Just don't tell anyone about this place because we want to keep it secret," we begged him. He agreed, and we got up to the landing part. There, right in front of us, was not only the hill with the ropes in all of its glory, but also a counselor holding onto one of them and about a dozen kids chasing him. How did everyone know about this place? We felt both saddened by the realization that our "secret place" wasn't secret and stupid for ever believing that it was ours alone. At least it impressed the girls when it really mattered.

Earlier, I also wrote about how I said "Howdy" a lot for a week of camp. I was a strange kid, and I often said strange things. In 6th grade, I even had my own catch phrase. I say "my own," but it was really the Beach Boys' phrase. I'd exclaim, "Help me, Rhonda!" in class at opportune times and get laughs from everyone (including the teacher). It was a great tension breaker, and I busted it out maybe once a week. Hmmm, I've been sitting here for about five minutes now trying to paraphrase what I'd use it in place of, but I can't think of how to do it. If I could only remember some examples of times I said it, that would help, but I'm coming up blank. Gentle readers, were any of you in sixth grade with me? Crap. I'll IM my friend Cheryl and see if she remembers. She helped me remember the one line I couldn't recall from our school song, so I have faith in her.

Last weekend, I played some golf with my buddies. By "played some golf," I mean "was physically on the course but did very little that resembled actual golf." While we were waiting for the group ahead of us to tee off on the first hole, the starter was checking our receipts to make sure we paid, etc. Another group was driving up in their carts, and a guy said to the starter, "Can you move up a little?" "You have enough room," the guy replied without looking. The other golfer slowly accelerated and then made it through with over a foot to spare. After a second, I said, "Looks like he got through just fine." "A retarded girl could've gotten through," he said gruffly before driving away. Dusty turned to me and asked, "Do people sense that you write a blog and purposely say outrageous things around you?" It sure seems like it sometimes, my friends.

Hey, did anybody else ever think the word was "wheelbarrel" as a kid? No? Just me? Fuck. Actually, I'd love to hear what words you all mis-knew either as kids or adults. Here, I'll go again to hopefully make it easier. Up until a few years ago, I was way off on a word. "Inclement," which very well might be an Auto Follower, was something very different in my head. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I always thought it was "inclimate weather," which not only makes zero sense but is also missing an n. I wish I could explain where the made-up word based on the mispronunciation of an established word came from, but I got nothing. I wonder if I ever wrote that in papers or something and confused the hell out of a teacher.

Car Watch!

I didn't receive too many Car Watch items this week, and I didn't see too many on my own. Fortunately, Rockabye was on the case. First off, he saw "LTSTNGO" on a license plate. Oh sure, it's probably, "Let's Tango" but it could be "Let Stan Go!" (Those are the same exact letters when all spelled out too, which I find cool.) The thing is, if I had a relative named Stan in jail for a crime he didn't commit, I'd consider getting that plate to support his plight. Imagine how pissed off I'd be to try to get it, only to find that it was taken by someone who just wants to dance. I'm so glad that's not the case, for Imaginary Stan's sake and for mine.

Rockabye also saw "1800GOD" on a plate. I'm completely thrown by this one. I've spent a lot of time complaining about 800 numbers with more that 7 letters, but I never thought I'd see the opposite. Maybe it's not supposed to be a phone number at all, but rather a date. Who was like a God in 1800? George Washington died in December of 1799, so it's not him. Pope Pius VII was ordained that year, so that's a possibility. Maybe it's a reference to someone who can pound a bunch of Cuervo 1800 tequila without puking. That's certainly not me. I give up.

He didn't stop there, folks. He also sent me, "IBGLFIN," and clarified that the person was not in fact golfing. So basically, the dude's a liar every single time his car isn't parked at a golf course. Do you think he always offers to drive others to the course so he can be factually accurate every so often? In my version of the story, he begs them to let him drive. I like my version.

My dad wrote me and said that he saw "MS SHUGI" on a plate. In his words, it is "Yiddish for mishugina or mishugi, meaning crazy." I'm not 100% sold on that, since it could easily be someone who just misses rap mogul Suge (pronounced like "shook" but with a G at the end) Knight since he's frequently in and out of jail. I'm just saying.

Two final items, and these are both from my own observations. First off, I saw a van for a heating and air company called "Temperatures Unlimited." Really? Unlimited? Ok then, make my house five hundred degrees. Better yet, make it absolute zero. Yeah, let's see how these f'ers work with the Kelvin scale. Beeotch!

And lastly, I saw a plate that read, "D FLMAKR." To me, that could be one of two things. Option 1: It's someone who is pompous enough that he (it was a he, by the way) wants to be knows as "THE film maker." No others, just me! Option 2: It's a D-Film maker, as in movies so bad that they're somehow two levels worse than B-movies. I hope it's the second interpretation, because I would love to see what a D-movie is like.

That's it for this week, my dear, sweet, gentle readers. I hope you all have kick-ass weekends, and that you're well-rested and ready for whatever I throw at you on Monday. I don't know what that is yet, so I hope I'm ready for it too. Got anything on your mind in the meantime? Send an email to ptklein@gmail.com, and maybe, just maybe, all of your dreams will come true (provided that all of your dreams revolve around sending an electronic message to ptklein@gmail.com and having it received by yours truly). Shaloha, friends, and I'll see you soon.