There it was, finally. Our island. Our very own island. It looked beautiful above the waves of fog, but there was still one question to be answered: why had they sold it to us for only five dollars?
"Well, we better get down there and check it out," I said to my hot wife Stacy Jones. So I took her down. And when I say "took her down," I mean the plane. And my wife, because she was in it. So you see, it could refer to either one. Our plane was a nice plane, with wings and bolts and spinny parts that made plane sounds. But all of that meant nothing as the plane crashed through the top of the forest canopy and hit the ground, exploding into a million pieces.
"Well, I thought there was a runway somewhere around here," I said after we crawled out of the flaming wreckage. We were both bruised up and scratched, and my face had been severely disfigured from third degree burns, but we were all right. I turned around and looked at the wreckage. My plane. My baby. I shed a tear.
"It's okay honey," said Stacy Jones, wrapping her arms around me and licking my tears. "We'll get a new plane someday." Then we made out. But we kept it pretty clean.
Finally, after our making out session ended, we looked around. Trees. Everywhere. In all directions.
"Great," I said. "We're lost. Now what?"
And then I heard my answer.
"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECCCHHHH!!!" came the screech of some sort of woodland jungle alien creature as it flew out of the trees and latched onto my face. I writhed around in agony as the creature sank its fangs into my eyeballs. Stacy backed away in horror... I think. Because I couldn't see her, and it was kind of chaotic. But I imagine she might do that.
Finally, after some effort, I pried the thing off my face and flung it to the ground.
"That's the last time I pay five bucks for an island!" I cried, and then Stacy and I laughed.
Monday, November 11, 2013
A) My new favorite fast-food meal is a cup of blueberry oatmeal and two hard tacos from Jack in the Box. Just a delight, I tell you. I know, I'm weird. I'm sorry.
B) My work blocked Spotify, so I found an alternative called "Rdio." Pretty much the same thing. Only it's not blocked. Right now, I'm listening to a Guster album called "Ganging up on the Sun." There's a lot of gusting. I enjoy music. It's lame to block it. Kinda reminds me of high school, when choir teachers would lock the piano in the choir room. Why would you lock a piano? What reason could you possibly have? Its purpose is to spill forth music. Let it fulfill its purpose. Sometimes, I would find the lock in the choir room (if it wasn't locked that day), and then I would hide the lock somewhere. There would be no locking.
C) I used the hoyer lift today. You don't even know what that is. Well, I'll tell you. You use it to hoist people up that don't have the use of their arms or legs. What if you couldn't use your arms or legs? Well, you would get hoyered. YOU'RE HOYERED. What you do is, you attach this sling to the person, then attach the sling straps to the hoyer lift, and then you pump that baby up. JUST PRIME THE PUMP. Anybody remember the "prime the pump" show? With the guy in the desert? Well, I don't want to spoil it... but he dies. It's the summer blockbuster everyone's talking about.
D) It's really lonely here at work. I'm all by myself in a little cubicle. Actually, I think there's someone on the other side. In fact, I think it's Jordan Polatis. He went to my school. His wife gets to work across the aisle from him. Lucky. Do you realize if he googles his own name, it will lead him to this blog? And then he'll realize that that guy on the other side of the cubicle is writing blogs about him. And that might be kinda weird.