Sweet Surrender
For some twenty-seven odd years (27 being an odd number), I had nobly resisted the urge to purchase a Weekly World News tabloid, despite it's obviously riveting content. I have lusted after it while standing in line at many a grocery store. Today, I lost the fight. A bride combusted at the altar and all that was left was her skull and the wedding ring! A space alien cookbook was found! Supposedly, I'm not going to believe what they gobble! I had to know what the Martians eat. What if they ever come to my neck of the woods?
Sadly, I received a minor bitching out due to my purchase. What is the appropriate age to start filling ones mind with meaningless, albeit hilarious, fodder? I thought I was doing good to have lasted this long?
To further compound today's significance, the annual "polar plunge" took place in Lake Ontario. This is the event where southern-ridiculing northerners strip down and run out into the freezing lake waters to prove what a bad idea that is and that it should never be done. I suppose it is a lesson to children. Ps: the north rules, the south drools!
I ridicule the South too, but I have a free pass. I grew up there, therefore it is a form of self-deprecation and hence, passable.
Also, I don't plunge into freezing waters annually. This does a lot to validate one's claim to level-headedness. Not that I need to validate it. Or that I am claiming it... I'm just saying. I don't. And I am.
Sadly, I received a minor bitching out due to my purchase. What is the appropriate age to start filling ones mind with meaningless, albeit hilarious, fodder? I thought I was doing good to have lasted this long?
To further compound today's significance, the annual "polar plunge" took place in Lake Ontario. This is the event where southern-ridiculing northerners strip down and run out into the freezing lake waters to prove what a bad idea that is and that it should never be done. I suppose it is a lesson to children. Ps: the north rules, the south drools!
I ridicule the South too, but I have a free pass. I grew up there, therefore it is a form of self-deprecation and hence, passable.
Also, I don't plunge into freezing waters annually. This does a lot to validate one's claim to level-headedness. Not that I need to validate it. Or that I am claiming it... I'm just saying. I don't. And I am.
posted by la fille du fromage at 9:32 PM
6 Comments:
'Or that I am claiming it... I'm just saying. I don't. And I am.'
LOL
Well, you better watch out little miss fast hands, once you acknowledge ghosts and aliens, they get a foothold in your life.
Who knows, they may spirit you away to vegas and force you to perform in an elvis tribute!
I turned 27 the year Number One Son was born. I liked that year. I look very happy in the pictures from that year. I would put one here, but it doesn't work.
Martians can survive quite nicely on a diet of steamed crabs and beer.
how do you grow hops on mars?
crab meat sounds tasty. i guess that unless you are somehow able to make your martian soil productive, your eating options are limited. i wonder if i could still be a vegetarian.
Mars ain't no place to raise your hops...it's cold as hell. We get them imported from Washington State.
I lived up north when I was in my 20's too. I also thought the north "ruled". Now that I am almost 41, I am happy to be living below the Mason-Dixon once again. I can smell spring in the air today and it is February. I'll take that. My bones are just too old for the cold.
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