A few months ago I had a conversation with a woman who was about to move into the brand new home she and her husband designed and paid to have built. She told me her hubby had gone out drinking with a co-worker to celebrate, and the co-worker warned him of something called “the new house curse.”
The guy said everyone he knows who’s built a house soon experienced horrible tragedy. Murder… divorce… spontaneous combustion… the thick piss…
In fact, the co-worker took out his wallet and removed a nail. “This is the final piece of the house we built ten years ago,” he said, “and as long as I carry it in my wallet, the project will never be done. And if it’s never fully completed, I’m safe.” He was reportedly dead serious about it.
We joked about this, and I told her she’d better be careful and heed the warning of the new house curse. Yeah, I was laughing and yukking it up, but if the roles had been reversed I probably would’ve started carrying a nail as well. Because I don’t really care for such things.
And you can probably guess what’s happened. That’s right, it’s just been one unspeakable event after another for that woman and her family. I don’t want to get into the details, but some nightmarish things have occurred since they moved into their new home, and just keep on occurring.
Have you ever heard of such a curse? I hadn’t, but have now, and will never forget it. Holy shitbubbles!
On a happier note, do any of you remember Keebler Danish Wedding Cookies? I used to love them as a kid, and don’t think I’ve seen ’em in stores since the Reagan Administration.
A few days ago there was apparently some sort of neurological upheaval, and I was hit by a wave of craving for something I hadn’t tasted in 25 years. How is it possible? I simply don’t know.
I assumed they’d been discontinued a long time ago, but apparently not. Check it out. It looks like they come in a box now, when they used to be in a bag. But other than that… it seems pretty much the same.
And this information is doing nothing for my mental health. I must have those powdery cookies, stat!
Microbrew of the Weekend: a Magic Hat winter ale, called Roxy Rolles. It was very hoppy and crisp, and not as spicy as some of the other winter ales I’ve tried. I give it a double-yum, followed by a single Nossy lip-smack.
After disappearing the microbrews, I watched a movie off the DVR, called Guadalcanal Diary. It’s a World War II movie, made during World War II, and is pretty darn good.
But the thing is loaded with racial slurs against the Japanese, almost from start to finish. It was Jap this, and slant-eye that, and, “Honest Sarge, I thought I saw his buck-teeth right in front of me…”
Is it wrong to laugh at such things? Should I feel guilty? It was like I was listening to a Phil Hendrie bit, starring Lloyd Bonafide. I fully expected one of the characters to shout, “We were up to our necks in bowl haircuts!” Just like Lloyd would’ve done.
It was almost shocking. Not quite, but almost.
Nancy called and asked Toney if she and her traveling circus of kookery could descend on our house for Christmas. And Toney said no! I couldn’t have done it, I admit. Especially during the holidays. I would’ve gritted my teeth, and said, “We’d be glad to have ya!”
And it’s a funny thing… a year ago Toney would’ve, too. She’s now so blunt with them, it sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s come over her.
But I’m perfectly willing to reap the benefits of whatever’s caused Toney to snap. It’s a wonderful time to be alive!
She and I were talking about showers the other day, and got into a debate about technique. Toney says you’re supposed to wash your hair first, then your face, then your body. And I’ve always washed my hair last. It’s never even occurred to me to do it in a different order.
Of course my hair is generally a centimeter long, so I don’t use conditioner and all that stuff (I also haven’t owned or used a brush since U2 were hip). So that probably makes a difference, right? I go face, body, hair. And it’s a method that’s served me well.
What do you say about it? Who’s doing it right, and who’s doing it wrong? Are you supposed to wash your hair first? It’s important that I know this.
And just so you’re aware… I’ve already made the joke about going balls, ass, face. So, I beat you to it.
Finally, what’s the story on that “12 Days of Christmas” tune? Christmas is December 25, there is no second day, and there certainly is no twelfth day. What the hell are they talking about?
Yeah, I think it’s just an excuse for some guy to brag about all the pretentious and crackpot gifts his girlfriend gave him. And I refuse to participate.
Have a great day, my friends.
I’ll see ya soon.