Fish Tacos of Death

"Perch ye on this bed of crumbs." -- The CrumbMaster

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Location: Hell, Michigan, United States

I like birds

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Thundaga

On this lovely fall evening, I now write to you, from the comfort of a house, somewhere in America. No, for real, I was inspired to write again because I was rifling through my brother's high school writings, and found a hilarious story he wrote about a guy that learns to swear, and also at some point, he gives a guy a cake to make friends with him, but the cake has a bomb in it and blows up. Therefore, I write to you now.

I shall regale you all with the tale of today, which really wasn't very exciting, but maybe I can make it sound more exciting than it actually was. Today, if you haven't heard, is Sunday, better known as THE SHABBAT. Apparently, it was Fast Sunday in our ward (in Mormonism, that's the Sunday where you refrain from chowing down for two meals), but I did not know this. In my ignorance, I cooked up a delicious fried egg and slapped it on a piece of toast with a melted slice of pepper jack cheese. Oh boy. Just thinking about that toast now... wow. And in case I made it sound like I'm some sort of cooking connoisseur, well, that's actually pretty much the only thing I know how to cook. I've decided I'm going to learn how to make a tasty bacon spaghetti this week. There will be a report next week.

Anywho, I ate this thing, which was fantastic. Then I shoved some oatmeal down the throat of my 5 year old. At some point, my wife woke up, and we all readied ourselves for our weekly Mormon Shabbat services. I played the organ in Sacrament. I do pretty well. I do well enough that while I'm playing the hymns, my mind wanders. Today, while playing, I was thinking about elevations of different cities. When sports teams come to Utah to play their little sports events, they often whine about the "altitude." I never knew that the altitude here is actually quite a bit higher than a lot of places. Salt Lake City's about 4,500 feet above sea level. Denver, obviously, is 5,280 feet, a mile, hence the nickname "The Mile High City." Later, I googled the altitude of different cities in America and found that pretty much every major city not close to the Rocky Mountains (obviously) is less than 500 feet above sea level. See? You just learned a bunch of crap. And you thought this blog was just gonna be all "ha ha" and "boy, that Holden sure is a doof!" Well, consider yourself educated with elevation.

After sacrament, I ventured to Gospel Doctrine, where we learned that cell phones are evil. Just kidding, that's an oversimplification. Cell phones are just cell phones. They have no capacity for good or evil. They're simply tools. Just... like... you. Just kidding. Anybody listened to the band Tool? Are they pretty great? Wow, yeah, neat. Anywho, we all need to stop "worshipping our cell phones" (a phrase I coined in high school when all of my friends had flip phones and I had nothing). Wow. What a prophet I was back then. Who knew that people would, one day, literally worship their cell phones. Not even kidding. I heard of a cult up in the remote Pine Valley Mountains that bows down to a giant statue of a phone while shouting praises and swiping on its majestic granite screen.

Then I went to primary, where I played the piano for about an hour, which is WAY too long to be sitting on a hard bench playing a piano. It irks my back and my neck. Also, Ashley Casey Soper, the ward music chairman and the first girl I ever went on a date with when I was 16, gave me some pumpkin chocolate chip cookies as a token of appreciation for my music-ing. And I just ate them all up. I didn't even save any for my wife. AM I A BUTT, OR WHAT? HEH. They certainly hit the spot. "What spot?" you ask. You'll never know.

Then I went home, and the Sweetsers (my wife) took a nap, and Rivers watched Steve Burns dance around like a doofus and kiss his dog. Then we came to my parents and ate soup. Then I tried to beat the second level of "Perfect Dark," an N64 vidiot game where you shoot bad guys, but I failed miserably and kept dying. I always thought, what if there was a video game where you only got ONE SHOT AT IT? Like, in keeping with reality, and reality says you don't get multiple lives, if you die in this game, the game is over. No, I mean, it's over. The game self-destructs or locks you out permanently or something. No second chances. How intense would that be to play? I mentioned this to a friend recently, and he told me that apparently, there are already games that do this. SO SCREW THAT.

Well, we have to go back to our house now, the one where we house ourselves, kind of like a little hole in the ground where a gopher might house itself, but slightly bigger and above ground, not in the ground. Goodbye!