Ok I’m a little late posting this morning. I went to watch some sporting-thingy where men wear helmets. The teams apparently take turns trying to keep the other from capturing a ball-thingy, which didn't look like a ball at all. Balls that I am familiar with are round, but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief. I guess they get points for style because there was a scoring system that increased as they game of keep-a-way continued. The one team called The Philadelphia Beagles, I think, were not as stylish. They lost. How could they not? Honestly who names a team after a timid house-pet? It was too loud, too smokey with too much booze and too much chili. Now I’m bloated. Damn those Beagles!
This brings me to the reason I’m posting today. I just got up and I’m still not functioning on all cylinders. Thus, here is a conversation I just had with my brain.
Me: Brain pick up the spoon.
Brain:
Me: Come on pick up the spoon. It’s cereal for Christ’s sake. How am I going to eat it with my hands?
Brain:
Me: I know you can hear me, you’re just being an ass this morning. Look! I’ll take you out for chocolate later...You can whistle that song you like that drives me crazy....I’ll even let you surf porn when we get on line (Ha, ha...sucker)
Brain:
Me: Ok let’s compromise. Use the fork and I’ll just hold my face closer to the bowl.
Brain:
Me: That’s great! After all I do for you, I want you perform I simple fuckin’ task so I don’t starve to death and you can’t even comply. You’re not allowed to take a vacation you know? Shit, you’re not allowed to take any time off. So listen to me, and follow these instructions. PICK UP THE DAMN SPOON!
Brain:
Me: Oh why don’t you just pick up the knife and pluck out my eyes.
Brain:
Me: Thank God you don’t listen.
(Don’t forget, in 2 days! The newest discovery on Mars)
1 comment:
I wasn't too impressed this year with the commercials.
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