Quite often, I feel like that kid in school who raises his hand to answer a question and then talks for five minutes on a totally unrelated subject.
I'm caught today somewhere in between the mood I'm actually in and the one I would like to be in. I had typed maybe a page here on Cuba and Castro and the fall of Batista blahblahblah until I stopped and thought "What the hell is wrong with me?" and erased it. Today I don't want to be the freak who writes that in his diary. Now, tomorrow...
Instead...
Why is it that the things I seem the best at are always things that benefit me absolutely ZERO in life?
For instance I have a gift, that I share with Andrew Dice Clay by the way, for turning songs or nursery rhymes into obscenity? Yes, I'm about 13 years old maturity-wise, why do you ask? The Sig Ot gets frustrated as I turn every song on the radio into something vile. And I can't seem to help it. When I have kids I won't be able to sing little songs with them.
"Ok, kids let's do she'll be coming around the mountain!"
Kids: "hooray!"
"She'll be screwing six white frat boys when she comes, she'll be screwing...
No, no hold on.
"Jim's a crack-ho and I don't care, Jim's a crack-ho and I don't care...
Yeah, see that won't be pretty.
Of course by that time I'll be on like my third marriage and in my 50's and married to a 19 year old super-model and sometimes actress who gives it all up to bear my children so maybe she can do the sing-along thing.
I also can snap my fingers without using the normal fingers together thing. I also torture the Sig Ot by taking my finger and doing a snap off the top of her head. (It does seem that many of my talents involve irritating people now that I think about it) Hold on...there... I just snapped my finger off the desk. I'm the world's best at this but sadly it's not yet in the Olympics.
I also rule when it comes to picking the worst check-out line. I challenge anyone to take me on with this. Whether it's a grocery store, bank or department store whatever line I pick is doomed to horrible mishaps. Items have no prices, milk cartons explode, the debit card machine network goes down, the cash register bursts into flames. Thinking it just bad luck as the cause and not me, I started trying to observe the cashiers a moment and choose from there. I would avoid the guy with that "far away look" while picking his nose and opt for the super-friendly, super-perky chick who was scanning items like a hamster on speed. Doesn't matter, the physical force of nature that is my choosing a line would cause mind blowing delays to befall that line. I long for the day when everything can be ordered over the net.
A gift I gratefully do not need to use right now is that I can manage to hook-up with the most insane female within whatever vicinity I am in. Oh she'll be pretty and she'll be fun, but she'll have more issues than a year of Springer shows could cover. She'd be too "out there" to appear on Rikki Lake.
Yes, these are the gifts that god chose to give me. I must be cursed by something my ancestors did or something.
Last night, I went for a run for the first time since my back injury last winter. I really miss running. I ran a mile and today I can sort of walk so I am pleased. Surprisingly I am in good aerobic shape, of course I walk a few miles in the course of a day. But my back muscles have no idea how to run. I stopped limping while walking weeks ago but I had a weird limp while running. I am sure I looked quite sad out there with my weird running limp but I don't care, dammit I am running again. hoorah.
I have more to say, but I can't sit here all day.
Late-ah.