There’s some kind of pollen or whatever whipping around in the air, and causing me problems. I’m a complete mess. My nose is running, I’m sneezing like an ancient sneeze-master, and my eyes are now a matching set of gloop-o-matics. Or something.
I can’t even wear my contact lenses very long, because they get all gunky and uncomfortable. Also, the sun seems impossibly bright. As soon as I set foot off our porch, I’m almost driven to my knees by the brightness.
Most people have hay fever problems at the beginning of spring, but I’m always a few weeks behind them. And mister, it’s kicking my ass this year. I can barely function. Sheesh.
Yeah, I know… take a pill. That’s always the answer, right? But I don’t take pills, I don’t ingest li’l balls of laboratory chemicals. They’re too mysterious and creepy. I’d rather stick with what I know: Yuengling Brewing and Wendy’s Corporation.
I just need to make sure I don’t sneeze in the direction of the Big Ass Television. ‘Cause dried snot will turn to cement on a TV screen. Believe me, I know.
On Friday evening I dropped the younger boy off at a school dance, which kinda freaked me out. He’s supposed to be a little kid, not hanging around discotheques, chatting-up the ladies. Ya know?
But anyway, while we were driving I was joking with him about dancing. He had no intention of doing any actual dancing, I learned. The very thought of such a thing was laughable.
“Maybe you can dance with her?” I said, nodding toward a girl standing outside, as we pulled into the parking lot.
“No, she’s gross,” he said.
“What’s gross about her?”
“She can’t say her Rs right, and she has dandruff.”
And after I stopped laughing, I realized I felt a little better about things.
The police apparently want to talk to me about my recent update about the shirtless library maniac. I received an email from the director of the library, asking for my cell phone number. The arresting officer, she said, wants to talk to me about what I witnessed that day.
I sent her the number, but haven’t heard from the cops yet. And the whole thing is mildly disturbing, on several levels…
Needless to say, I’ll keep you guys updated. Wonder if I’ll be asked to testify at a trial, or something? Yeah, I don’t care for that. I have visions of the maniac being dragged from the courtroom, pointing at me and screaming, “I’ll get you, blog boy! If it’s the last thing I do!!”
The Eels are finally going to tour again. It’s been a long time since they did a real tour, with the full band and everything. They’ll be in Philly on September 22, and so will I.
The Eels are one of the few bands that can still get my ever-expanding ass out of this chair, and into the concert hall. This will be my fifth or sixth time seeing ’em. Oh yeah. A splendid time is guaranteed for all.
What bands have you seen many times? I’ve also seen the Replacements/Paul Westerberg a ridiculous number of times. And there are others, as well. What about you?
When I get home from work tonight, around 2:15 am, I’m going to watch the final episode of LOST. No way I’ll be able to wait until my next day off, which is Thursday. That’s simply too far off in the murky future.
So, I’ll crack open a Yuengling and watch it in the middle of the night tonight. Wonder how long two and a half hours will be, with me fast-forwarding through the many, many commercials? An hour forty-five? What do you think? I’ll try to keep track and report back tomorrow.
And I’m gonna leave you now with a question from the Stealing Clive Bull‘s Topics desk. A few nights ago Clive was asking his listeners if they collect anything. Like stamps or coins, or (hopefully) something more unusual.
I used to be big-time into baseball cards, until they got so expensive I couldn’t compete anymore. Now I have very little interest, but for several years it was a white-hot passion in the middle of my soul.
What about you? Do you collect anything? Have you ever? Use the comments link to tell us about it.
And I’ll be back tomorrow, right here.
See ya then.