Monday, May 26, 2008
David Bowie 'Station To Station'
It’s Memorial Day Weekend here in Greensboro, North Carolina… Part of the lower 48 where the weather is perfect. The Coca-Cola 600 raced under the stars with temps that started off very mild and ended with jackets. It’s like our local forecasters all came together to form a group of super-villainy to overthrow the fickle gods of weather and brought us a delicious weekend.
Good work guys!
Since I haven’t had a vacation in years, I decided to get into a vacation frame of mind.
First of all… I decided that I should try to drink beverages out of cans.
Haven’t you ever noticed that you drink a lot more canned beverages when you’re on vacation?
So I broke out an old friend of mine to help with me with the vacation mind frame… My Dick Trickle can hugger!
Saturday afternoon, I sat outside in the sun with no shoes or socks. I am NOT a barefoot kind of guy… I found myself cursing under my breath with just about every step. When I stepped on a small stick… A profanity. When I stepped on a small rock… A LOUD vulgarity. When I stepped on some grass… I was moving around like one of those little toys that you push up from the bottom that makes the figure collapse and move around in weird poses. I am a tenderfoot in the most purist sense of the word.
On Sunday, I broke out my New Balance running shoes and wore them with my new ankle socks. I need to get some more sun on those pasty-white tootsies of mine and turn them to a golden melanoma shade of brown. It was the first time sporting them outside the confines of home. The folks at Food Lion didn’t seem to care.
The family met at the Hefner household for an afternoon cookout complete with little kids running around like it was field day at Dorothea Dix Hospital . Personally, I like it when kids are running around like little crazed mofos… That is until one of them gets hurt and starts crying like Lucy Ricardo.
I found something interesting in the kid’s bathroom… A bottle of Hot Wheels brand of foaming hand soap. It was Berry scented.
Now being that I was once a little boy some time ago… I couldn’t help thinking about better scents for the Hot Wheels brand of foaming hand soap.
The last one would be a great way to get little kids to wash their hands. They would wash constantly and sit around sniffing their hands all day while keeping out of trouble. Not a bad idea, really.
Show me a kid that doesn’t like Pepperoni pizza and I’ll show you an unholy alliance of egg and sperm that created a demon in junior form.
--At the moment of writing this… It’s Memorial Day morning shy of 10 O’clock. I’m thinking about breaking out the Zune MP3 player, getting out a good book, and sitting in direct sunlight.