Greetings to my stunningly-attractive legion of screaming fans! It is I, Dave the Goof, here to mindlessly entertain you with a raft of hot air cleverly hidden beneath a layer of words!
[Dave waits for the applause and adulation to wane]
OK, where to begin?
So Monday afternoon, I'm in the car, all the Wagner Women are with me, we're on our way to Target... yeah, I know... classy! Anyway, those that know the area around our house will get the visual, but the rest of you, sorry... I'll do my best... anyway, we're driving the "back way" from our house near the mall into the back of Escondido, via that road the goes by the lake... with me so far? We're tooling along, as if we had good sense... lo and behold, a sudden opportunity to check my brakes presents itself!
As the road narrows to one lane each direction, I crest a hill and approach a stoplight down at the bottom... I have green, so it's all good. Going maybe 45 or so. Well, the dude waiting at the intersection just ahead, on my right, decides for some reason unknown to me to begin creeping into my lane. He just slowly pulls right out, and stops, completely (and I mean completely) blocking my lane! SCREEEEECH! Standing on the brakes, tires smoking, leaving loooong black marks on the road, we come to a stop mere inches away from his car, my front bumper just about touching his driver door...
That'll get the ol' heart a'pumping! My car stalls, of course. We all start breathing again. The old dude behind the wheel just kind of looks around, then at me. He waves. He drives off, my wife screaming at him from her spot beside me.
The Takeaway: My brakes work fine. Brake test is a success.
And now, a fat kid in glasses, getting shot...
Dang! Both barrels!
So I went to my Writer's Group meeting tonight. I wish I had an amusing anecdote to relay, or some fascinating revelation to share... but it was pretty routine. I sent off a section of my Fantasy story about King Carey (as in my childhood pal Carey, not Jack Carey from MZF), and got a lot of good feedback. Of course, I forgot to find "real" names for the two main cities I talk about in the chapters, so I sent it to them with my placeholder names still in place. Yeah, having cities named "Spudgebert" and "Slapnuts City" had the effect you can imagine they would... oh, well... I've never been good with names... everything I come up with sounds so cliche!
On a related note, if you've ever wondered about the science behind a man being able to withstand a world-record power-kick to the family jewels, wonder no further!
I don't know whether to file that under entertainment, education, or extreme wince-inducement.
And just in case you ever wondered what the great 5th Century church father St. Augustine's thoughts on farting were, here is a quote from the most reliable source I could find (pointed out to me by Yanni)... yes... Wikipedia...
Historical comment on the ability to fart at will is observed as early as St. Augustine's The City of God (5th century CE). Augustine mentions men who "have such command of their bowels, that they can break wind continuously at will, so as to produce the effect of singing." The fact that mankind in general has lost this ability he attributes to the first sin of Adam and Eve and its consequences with respect to body control. Intentional passing of gas and its use as entertainment for others appears to have been somewhat well-known in pre-modern Europe, according to mentions of it in medieval and later literature, including Rabelais.
I did not make that up - it really says that on that wiki page I linked to.
Well, I guess I should end this post on a cool note... here is a pic of the newly-engaged Vye and Rebekah, which I found very amusing...
Vye has the strength of 8 men... and Reb the beauty of 8 women!
Well, I think I've entertained you enough for one night... I will now go see if it's my play in any of my Facebook Scrabble games, then read more Warbreaker, and then go the heck to bed!
Until tomorrow, adios!