So I think that maybe Ive got that stomach bug thats going around. Its hard to say for sure because those stomach bugs that put normal people in the ER usually just make me have to go number two twice in one day. Either I got all the best digestive track genes or thats one of the benefits of a regular diet of hog head cheese, cow tongue, and various other things most people wouldnt feed their dog. But anyway, I think I got it because there have been recent symptoms. But you can file that tidbit of info away for now, we’ll revisit that later. So Angela comes home from work this morning and cooks bacon, eggs, grits, hashbrowns, toast, etc. and I ate a gut full. Then I started mowing The grass. When I got by the pond one of the ducks came up the bank and got in front of me and was just walking along the bank like he’s on a Sunday afternoon stroll. Nevermind the giant mower churning along right behind him. So Im creeping along at a snail’s .... well, ducks waddle, hoping eventually hell step out of my path to one side or the other. But no, hes just waddling along, occasionally looking back over his... er... shoulder?... as if to say “Dude, what gives? Why do you keep following me?” And he just keeps waddling along and Im still patiently creeping up behind him. Patiently that is, until I stirred up a wasp nest in the tall grass on the bank of the pond and when I saw those winged spawns of satan take flight I slammed the handles down and got me outta there because when wasp are involved its every man, or duck, for himself. Fortunately this story isnt a tragedy, well not yet, because my girlish screams apparently were alarming enough to remind him that ducks have wings, or else Id probably still be out there raking up feathers even now. But thats when things went even more horribly wrong. In my haste to escape the wasps I sort of overshot the bank at the bend of the pond and... well, if youve ever tried to maneuver a zero-turn mower on wet grass on a steep incline, then you can already see where this is headed. Straight into the water. Well remember that stomach issue I previously mentioned? Yeah, that was an awful lot of excitement all at one time so shortly after such a big greasy breakfast and.... well I think Ill tell the rest by way of a pirate story. You see there was this great pirate captain out on the seas and each time they approached a merchant ship to rob them of their precious cargo the captain would give the order to prepare for battle. Then he would immediately call for the first mate to bring his red shirt. One day the mate asked the captain if he always asked for his red shirt because it was so lucky and if that is why they were so successful at pillaging. For they were very successful. So successful in fact that the King had dispatched his entire armada to bring the captain back to land to pay for his crimes at sea. But the captain replied “Well mate, I tell the crew ’tis my lucky shirt, but truth be told I wear the red shirt in battle so that should I be wounded in the skirmish, the crew wont see their beloved captain bleeding, lose moral, and thus lose the battle”. So from then on whenever the call to prepare for engagement came, the mate would run and grab the captain’s red shirt. Well one morning the captain stood atop the bow of the ship, peering dimly through his looking glass. There he saw the vast expanse of the early morning horizon fully crested with all the Kings finest gunships. Knowing what was about to ensue, he bowed his head, turned to his first mate, and said “mate, fetch me my brown pants.”
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 21:07:25 +0000
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