Quote of the Day: “My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s ninety-seven now, and we don’t know where the hell she is.”
- Ellen DeGeneres
One week before my annual trail marathon in Lone Pine so what do I decide to do? Skip the run.
Eh, it was just a 12 miler anyway.
It just felt sooooo good to sleep in so that’s what I did.
When we got up, finally, we decided we should return the Weez to her rightful owner and set up a meeting place with Killjoy at a mall halfway between us.
I don’t know why but I was looking forward to hitting a mall because I had a very chick desire to buy something I didn’t need. I didn’t even know what, I just wanted to buy something.
Well, I didn’t buy anything. Just wandered around a mall throwing a bouncy ball to Weez and basically acting like a child.
Especially when we left before Killjoy and I drew “Wash Me” on her trunk.
This actually took place in the parking lot and it was on her car, just in case you misread that last part.
I then took my family to see “Baby Mama” which I thought was pretty funny since I like Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. Then I got to thinking and (spoiler alert) the “feel good” ending was that two women had babies out of wedlock.
Awww, how sweet.
After the movie, we went over to Best Buy so I could feed my geek and feed it I did. I was having a grand old time buying a Logitech headset for when I’m using Skype in Saudi Arabia and a 350 GB external hardrive to store my files until it was all ruined by a phone call to Killjoy.
She earned her name.
She basically accused me of scratching “Wash Me” into the paint of her car and how she can’t get it out so she is going to have to get her whole truck repainted.
I think she was exaggerating just a little (OK, a lot) and told her to just send me the bill.
Of course she said she wouldn’t but was still pissed.
My joy was officially killed.
At least I didn’t write what I really wanted to: “I wish my wife was this dirty.”
(saw it once on a car and laughed uncontrollably).
Free Advice for Today: “Carry a list of your wife’s important sizes in your wallet.”
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.