Wednesday. 10:25 p.m.
So I start another post because I spent a little time reading old blog posts and got inspired by something and, in the time it took me to sign in to post, I forgot what I was going to post about.
I spent an awful lot of time trying to find the SNL skit of Will Forte and Peyton Manning in the locker room, Will Forte dancing to a Herb Albert song. I saw it on TV a week or so ago and was trying to find it for Stevie's and my amusement. NBC, in their wisdom, don't have it posted, though it's hard to make that a definitive statement because, in their wisdom, they don't have a 'search' feature for their posted skits and they've made sure to put a cease-and-desist on youtube and similar sites who had it posted at one time. Buttholes.
I didn't go and read, but all the boys are in bed and it's at least been quiet. My moods are rather volatile these days and I'm not quite sure what set me into a mildly bad mood tonight other than the desire to spend a little time alone. You'd think I'd be able to better manipulate my moods at the ripe age of 38 and 11/12ths.
I had to take a pee test the other day for my tourism job. I don't smoke dope anymore. It, like alcohol, lacks the crispness it used to have on my younger brain. If I have more than two drinks, or try to get a buzz on a lazy night, I just get sleepy and dull. Plus, I have to take pee tests. I ponder how I might cheat on a pee test, just for kicks, but decide that it would be pretty tough. The tester eyeballs your pockets--after you strip down like you're going through airport security--and waits outside while you pee. You can't flush or wash your hands. As soon as you're finished, you zip up and go straight to the bathroom door and the tester (a young male) walks right in and looks in the toilet. Then he takes your cup, you wash up, and go through the paperwork. What if I switch to autopilot and flush? The horror. God forbid we smoke a doobie on a Tuesday night or something. I feel well-protected now that I know I won't be comin' to work all whacked out on a spliff and direct a tourist to go north when I really meant south! Dude!
But my past isn't far behind. Despite mindless, caffeine-fueled (yes, I just drank a diet soda at bedtime), bad stream-of-consciousness blogging, I still have yet to light upon the inspiration for this post.
I spent an awful lot of time trying to find the SNL skit of Will Forte and Peyton Manning in the locker room, Will Forte dancing to a Herb Albert song. I saw it on TV a week or so ago and was trying to find it for Stevie's and my amusement. NBC, in their wisdom, don't have it posted, though it's hard to make that a definitive statement because, in their wisdom, they don't have a 'search' feature for their posted skits and they've made sure to put a cease-and-desist on youtube and similar sites who had it posted at one time. Buttholes.
I didn't go and read, but all the boys are in bed and it's at least been quiet. My moods are rather volatile these days and I'm not quite sure what set me into a mildly bad mood tonight other than the desire to spend a little time alone. You'd think I'd be able to better manipulate my moods at the ripe age of 38 and 11/12ths.
I had to take a pee test the other day for my tourism job. I don't smoke dope anymore. It, like alcohol, lacks the crispness it used to have on my younger brain. If I have more than two drinks, or try to get a buzz on a lazy night, I just get sleepy and dull. Plus, I have to take pee tests. I ponder how I might cheat on a pee test, just for kicks, but decide that it would be pretty tough. The tester eyeballs your pockets--after you strip down like you're going through airport security--and waits outside while you pee. You can't flush or wash your hands. As soon as you're finished, you zip up and go straight to the bathroom door and the tester (a young male) walks right in and looks in the toilet. Then he takes your cup, you wash up, and go through the paperwork. What if I switch to autopilot and flush? The horror. God forbid we smoke a doobie on a Tuesday night or something. I feel well-protected now that I know I won't be comin' to work all whacked out on a spliff and direct a tourist to go north when I really meant south! Dude!
But my past isn't far behind. Despite mindless, caffeine-fueled (yes, I just drank a diet soda at bedtime), bad stream-of-consciousness blogging, I still have yet to light upon the inspiration for this post.
posted by lulu | 8:25 PM
1 Comments:
Call me verbose, but I like these rambling posts, especially "better fat and fit than thin and dormant." Amen to that, doc. (editorial note: how about 'thin and thedentary')
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