Well, just to complete my Jedi training in Dork, I called the phone number in the spoof ad on the cover of "Monster", the book I reviewed yesterday. Calling 212-364-1177 connects you to the switchboard for Cryptobiological Containment and Rescue Services, est. 1977. As you "continue to hold" you are offered prompts to order humane traps to snare all sorts of mythical creatures. My phone died out before I heard all the options.
Quite a hoot. Not as much fun as dialing 867-5309, but a nice way to pass 30 seconds while you pick your teeth with a matchbook cover.
Moving on . . .
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A crazy few days here. On Saturday evening, as YaYa and I drove to church, we ran over a large screw and got a flat tire. Good luck finding someplace to patch it on the weekend, right? Wrong. Wal-Mart's tire center was not only open, but charged half as much as I'm used to paying.
RIP Sam Walton, ya done me right this weekend.
While we were waiting YaYa was a doll, which surprised the hell out of me. Hell, I was bored. But she acted like it was a grand adventure and even told me how nice it was to browse the store together. We picked up a freeze-dried ice cream sandwich from the camping section, and were surprised as heck to find it tasted pretty close to the real thing.
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I've got a splinter lodged deep under my pinkie nail. I trimmed the nail back as far as I dare and removed what I could, but some of it will just have to work its way out. Man oh man, there's a reason that's considered a real, honest-to-goodness torture technique.
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I left today to walk an errand with YaYa and my niece, with no plans in the works for dinner. I came back 15 minutes later to find Lisa had scrambled together a steaming plate of sumptuous BBQ chicken breast, carrots, and salad. It was easily one of THE BEST pieces of chicken I've ever had, and I bow to her heavenly cooking skills.
Looks like Lisa rocks in *two* rooms of the house ;)
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Smiley's bus was more than 45 minutes late dropping him off from school today, and I won't mince words: my head was a bleepin' mess of nerves and worst case scenarios. Ugh. All I can say is at least I don't let those fears control my whole world, as I still let him hop aboard each morning.
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Speaking of the school bus, it pulls out of here in six hours. Time to hit the sack. Later!
Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Snaring mythical creatures, huh? Good. Because I've always wanted a pet Imp. And a fairy too...although I hear they're cantankerous little boogers.
ReplyDeleteI'm giggling about Lisa rocking in two rooms. Oh, how I wish my husband would say that about me. :D Doug would probably say the only thing I "rock" at is speed-reading and blogging. ::sigh::
And D...I know just what you're talking about, being freaked when the bus is late. One time Parker's bus was almost an hour late. I was SERIOUSLY freaking out. I even called the school's transportation office.
There just isn't any excuses for being that late, especially when the school was 15 minutes away.
Anyhoo....have a great Hump Day!