Well, if you're gonna get hurt, this is the way to do it. I'm assuming there are no boss-types reading this, because I can hardly get family members to waste their time here.
Like the old saying goes, a day at the beach beats a day at work, or something like that.
Call it R&R. Call it therapy. Call it a comp room at the Hilton in A.C., and every one of them would be correct.
So I'm sitting at the Hilton Tiki Bar in the afternoon, (not addin up) getting serviced with drinks by Hilton-ettes, when this GUY walks in. I noticed THIS guy. Tall (maybe an inch shorter than me)
well built (but not powerfully built like me :-), and dressed like a J Peterman catalog model carrying a Guess? shopping bag.
Yep, three dollar bill, but he turned the head of every woman in the place. Even the older jewelry hangers. So naturally I thought (first) I could take this guy WITH my dominant arm in a sling............................ BUT, the clincher, was "he cant write like this".
Women LOVE writers.
At least thats what they tell me. Words melt em.
Yeah, 30 years too dammed late. Thanks a lot, girls. All I can hope for now, is to save the frickin world.
So a mystery bite turned days off, turns into a beach trip and all the amenities....................yeah, I'd say that none of it adds up.
Especially the bite part.
Still dont have a clue what happened, and still not much relief from the antibiotics or whateverthehell I'm taking. Except for the crankiness. Supposedly "irritability" is a side effect .
I should have started taking these about 30 years ago, at least then I'd have an excuse.
I think kids clothing should come with that warning label. "causes irritability, Especially if placed in a car with individuals wearing said clothing, for more than 15 minutes, and increasing in intensity exponentially after that". Yeah, that'd be truth in advertising right there.
Well, the good news is, nobody got ejected from the vehicle, nothing got caught on camera, and the kids had a trip to the beach. I'd call that a win win win.
Oh, You dont have little kids? Or are yours those disgusting polite and quiet types?? (I always look for shock collar marks on those kids)
Now I Love my kids, (they're all alive, aren't they?) but you knnow how it is.
Like Bill Cosby said, "they're all retarded". Unquote. Dont crucify me, thats HIS line.
Their job, it seems, it to push us parents over the edge. What comes after that is uncertain, but I'm pretty sure thats the immediate goal.
Notice where I am in the picture. Notice that teensy weensy little cluster of colored blips in the distance. Uh-huh, my wife and kids. (My wife was the one yelling "JUMP!")
Aaaaaah, the sound of the sea. The distance between me and the screaming little cherubs. And the sound of the sea. THATS, a vacation. Combine that with not having to drive, but instead this time, I was the one with the I-pod shoved in my ears, turned up to warp-factor three. Ah bliss, with only muffled screams, flying objects, and occasional jerks of the steering wheel to interupt me.
Imagine my wife getting mad at ME, when I politely mentioned to her that its AWFULLY difficult to read, dear, with you driving so erratically and screaming so much. "Its no good for your blood pressure" I added.
Geeze. Try to be a nice guy, and you get "the look".
I cant win.
I go and sacrifice my body by getting bit by SOMETHING so the family can get a little R&R, and STILL I get in trouble.
Nothing adds up.
I think I'll eat my fudge...........................................