Everyone Loves A Charade
So I went to a parade the other day. I was curious to re-experience the phenomenon since it had been quite some time. The last time I saw a parade was from within as a member of the high school’s marching band playing my trombone.
Yeah, it’s really been that long. I avoid public events religiously. I recently lived ten years in a small town. During that time I successfully avoided all the parades, county fairs, classic car shows and even the yearly carnivals festively known to the locals as “dirt bowls.” I’m a hardcore avoider and parade dodger.
The parade started with the police and fire departments showing off their rides. Meh. I grudgingly gave them a pass since this is apparently the traditional way to start a parade. I fleetingly wondered how much it was costing me.
Then came some beauty queens riding in the back of convertibles. Meh. Mildy amoosing.
This was followed by the “citizen of the year” aka a person I don’t know in car.
At last, the grand marshal. A person in a car. I was starting to swoon from … too … much … excitement. Suddenly I realized I could have been back at home watching Star Trek: The Animated Series on Netflix.
In case you missed it, the theme of the parade was “Undying Love For The Internal Combustion Engine.”
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The Motorbike Sonic Boom
Click for Source: Vishweshwar Saran Singh Deo (Flickr)
It was a hot day and I was out for a ride in the car. It was the kind of hot that made people wish they could die and hurry on to Hell so they could cool off a bit. Since my A/C was broken (like always) I had all of my windows rolled down. Suddenly an infant rolled by with a binky in his mouth.
Um. Wait one. Scratch that. Let me try that again.
Suddenly a grown man rode by on his motorcycle. And when I say “rode by” I mean that he whizzed by (illegally) so close that the cute little pink tassels hanging from his “ape hanger” handlebars literally dug ruts in my paint.
Ape hangers. Has there ever been another vehicle part in the history of time so aptly named? Methinks not. I love it when products describe their owners so accurately.
Meanwhile, since my windows were rolled down, my ears were in for a real treat.
BRAAAAOWN, BRRAAOOOM, RROOAAARR!!! BLAT BLAT BLAT!!! VROOM!!!
Nice onomatopoeia, eh?
A Boeing 747 taking off from inside my pants wouldn’t have been as loud. (But a lot more fun.) The sound waves from this dude’s audio wake slapped me in the face, driving my head back and into my car. With blood leaking from my ears and my ears ringing from a mild concussion, I paused a moment to ponder the psychology involved in this sort of event.
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Mother of Invention – PODS
You hook 'em, I'll clean 'em and fry 'em.
My wife just left this morning on her annual weekend retreat with some girlfriends. Now I’m left home alone for a glorious three-day weekend.
Hello T-R-O-U-B-L-E!
Naturally I’ve got a lot going on, but I’m still going to try to squeeze in a little blogging as time permits. In between 14-hour bouts of sitting on my ass, eating entire bags of potato chips and sour cream dip, and watching my toenails grow, I shall endeavor to pump out the same high quality of bitching to which all of my reader have grown accustomed.
For today, I wish to announce the latest in a long series of miraculous and societal-changing inventions from the team of creative geniuses that power the Abyss.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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