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OK, so add to my list of things I don’t particularly like very much being awakened by the sound of men messing around with something up on my roof. I mean what is that? There were no jingle bells. There were no reindeer hooves. If you don’t have a stomach that’s shaking like a bowl full of jelly then get down off of my roof while I’m trying to sleep.

I thought for a moment it was a SWAT or Delta squad or something. I’m still sitting here sort of half expecting a bunch of flash-bang and guys dressed all in black to come breaking through my windows. And wait … Is that one of those little snakey type of cameras that they can feed through a small pinhole to keep track of everybody in side?

*waving* Hello Everybody. Cheese!!!!!!

I wonder if Tommy spilled everything about the diamonds. Or, maybe it was the gorgonzola. Oh crud, if they know about the gorgonzola, then I may not be able to publish to this blog thingy for a long, long time.

The internet is boring tonight, so I figured I’d add a bit of my own content instead. So here you go, copied out of an e-mail I wrote earlier today:

Driving home Saturday, I was brutally attacked on
the freeway and nearly died. Some plastic sack made a
beeline for my car and plastered itself to my front
windshield blocking out any and all vision of the road
ahead. So there I am, barreling down the 405 at about
70 miles an hour, weaving just a little bit within my
lane while I roll down the window and try to claw this
sack out of my way.

Let me tell you, the sack wasn’t having any of it. It
held tight to my window with a strength of will that
could only be described as intelligent, and yes, I’ll
say it … Purly Evil! And, I’m not talking about your
average everyday run-of-the-mill evil here. No, this
wasn’t the kind of simple malevolence that you find in
serial killers or concentration camps. This was a
level of pure evil that I’ve only ever encountered in
a few episodes of Small Wonder (that show with the
little girl who was really a robot). I’m talking about
Time Bandits style evil here.

Fortunately, I walk a righteous path, and I was
finally able to pull it free. But, when I got home,
what do you suppose I found wedged into my rolled up
window like a hook from some lame ghost story? That’s
right, the very same plastic sack that was hell bent
on my very destruction. So now I’m stuck. I don’t want
to just release it into the wild because that kind of
evil shouldn’t be left to run free (plus, I’m not a
litter bug). But, there ain’t no way I’m going to take
it into my home. Given half a chance, I’m sure it
would have been more than happy to smother me in my
sleep.

It still had some fight in it, but I managed to get it
over to one of the complex’s dumpsters. You want to
know what’s really weird though? The next morning I
went for a 3 mile walk - because I’ve been eating like
crap for 2 weeks and needed to get out and move so I
wouldn’t feel completely and totally gross. Well, as I
was walking along, everywhere I went, there were
plastic sacks. I’m serious. It was like the paper boy
from Better Off Dead or something. I’m fairly certain
that I’m being stalked, and now I want to go find the
king of the plastic sacks and ask it what I’ve done to
offend it.

What could be better than realizing, from that depths of my groggy dementia, that it’s a Saturday, and I can turn the alarm off? So nice to be able to drift back to sleep while the rain lightly trickles in the background? Mmmmm…

Well, it might have been better if I’d actually remembered to turn the alarm off last night, but still, a pretty nice way to delay the start of a Saturday. Now I’m thinking fried bread covered in sugar, egg, cream and cinnamon and some sort of jazz. Maybe Miles Davis.

[Folgers Coffee Style Voice Over]: We’ve secretly replaced the power rods Will usually uses with 4 inches of solid god damn steel.

How the hell did I get so weak in just 2 days? It’s like I’m a six-year-old, no a kitten, no a little fluffy bunny and not the really cool bunny from Holy Grail, no I’m talking about one of those little forest bunnies that just gets nailed from above by a giant hawk.

So, two sets instead of three because I’m a worthless and weak little punk. Plus, I don’t think an arm is supposed to feel like that. Something may be broken.

I awoke this morning at about 4 am, not a bit hung over, and feeling surprisingly refreshed and present. My car has needed an oil change and a tune up for … well, let’s just say forever. So, I figured, as long as I’m up…

Now, last night, all I wanted to hear was The Pogues. Some lame-ass Celtic band was truly mangling their way through a set, and I just wanted some refreshing sherbet (or should that be day-old coffee with cigarette butts floating on top) to cleanse my auditory palette so to speak. Well, when I climbed into my car today, I had to throw on Rum, Sodomy and the Lash.

It was as you might expect just what the doctor ordered at 6 in the mother f’n AM. And, all kidding aside, I was digging it as I drove to find a restaurant where I could wait for the garage to open at 7:30. I got to the diner at about 6:40 which was a problem since it turns out they don’t open until 7. I didn’t want to wait, so I decided to go somewhere else.

That was my first mistake…

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Note to self: Antihistamines, physical exertion and lack of nutrition does not make for a very good combination. If you really feel you must try to stand up, do it a little slower next time. OK? And really, wouldn’t a nice nap be better anyway? You’ll still be hungry tomorrow. There’s no rush in getting food.

The chorizo and eggs ad Mill’s Country Restaurant may well be the worlds most perfect food. If I could have, I would have just kept on lapping it up like one of those coke monkeys that just keep hitting their jones until they fall over dead. For the next few days, I will be thinking about it and building it up in my mind until enough time has passed that I feel I can go back and have it again. Of course it will never live up to my memories of that first experience. I always find myself returning to a restaurant time after time, for months … even years trying to recreate some magic moment when the planets aligned and everything was just perfect. I never manage it though. It’s never the same, never as good. I obviously need to learn to embrace my inner-Buddha. Or, I guess release my inner-Buddha would be more appropriate wouldn’t it? I need to do one of them though since a few more breakfasts like that and I’ll need to get comfortable with my external Buddha. I should have worn looser pants.

I have the body of a 78-year-old man. He’s pissed. And, he’s trying to take it back. Strangely, just a few hours ago, I had the body of an 18-year-old boy. I aged 60 years in the space of a few hours. Clearly I’m suffering from some rare form of physical bi-polar disorder or something. Hmmm….Do they make pills for that? ‘Cause I could really go for some pills.

Roughly speaking, the next 493,200 seconds are mine to do with as I wish. How oh how shall I spend my time? Will I spend it cleaning my condo, redesigning my web site, starting work on that novel that’s been kicking around my brain for the past few months — nah, I’ll probably just lay around watching movies and playing on the Internet until I sprout painful bed sores. I might also spend a few moments thinking about the eternal question, What Should I Do With My Life.

I just wanted to tell the unfortunate soul who was forced to deal with my disgusting snot drenched napkin after I left the restaurant tonight that I am very, very sorry. You see I had no way of knowing that your Spicy Penne Arabiata came marinated in tear gas and pepper spray prior to serving. I held it together for as long as I could, but I am only one man. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure that the heartburn that is currently punishing me will keep me up through at least 3 lifetimes.

Man, what was I even thinking ordering a plate of bread? I feel completely gross right now.