I am pretty sure I am going to hell because when I read that headline I started to snicker. It just seemed like something that would be in a corny movie. Something like 'Better off dead'. However
in reality I do not know the details of how that happened. I have stood by train tracks as a train went by. The vibrations are string enough to rattle the fillings out of your teeth. Plus there's the fact there is a big ass train coming at you. She must have been drunk or high or suicidal.
I have to get all the critters to the vet again for their round of shots. Plus I think my white cat Moxie picked up something again. He has a swelling near his butt that he hisses at if you touch it
and he is not eating well. But then again that might be that he is sick of the cheap catfood I bought him while I was broke last month.
A friend from 'Myspace' dropped in to visit me for a spell last night. it was pleasant company and a nice change from a normal humdrum Monday night. I was amused when she pulled up in a car that was nearly identical to my own. I've always been a bit annoyed with my car ever since someone told me that model Saturn was a 'lesbian' car. Frankly
it's a bit true. It's a pert little chick car. It's not a manly car in any shape or form. So for a moment I thought we were on the same playing field as far as wimpy cars go. However
I then noticed her model is a shift stick while mine is an automatic. So her car is more butch than mine. It's the Alpha Saturn in the car lot.
I need to turn in a paper to mark a vacation day this Friday. A cousin of mine is coming into town
and my sister wants to take him to bush gardens for the day. I decided I wanted to tag along. I had not been to bush gardens in ages
and bush gardens supplies two great things to make it all worthwhile: Monkeys and beer. Yes
you can drink beer and watch monkeys all day long there. That is just simply a winning combination. Monkey's and beer simply blows away any billion-dollar fifteen minute mummy ride that universal can put together. You would have to ride that think at least ten times before you saw someone fling poo.
Someone is giving away a bunch of free cinderblocks on craiglist
however it's in Rockledge Florida and I have no idea where that is. I could use them
though.
2026 Update
Cranking the time machine back twenty years to watch Ed debate which Saturn is more butch and whether Moxie's butt swelling needs a vet.
Twenty years on, and there are so many fossils in this entry I could charge admission. The headline Ed snickered at was already evidence of a world where tragedy got flattened into a corny punchline before breakfast. Now we get our snickers algorithmically, which is worse. Myspace friends dropping by unannounced? That was real. Today the friend is a profile picture and the visit is a story that disappears in twenty-four hours. The Saturn itself is extinct, and with it the whole strange social code that let a car's gender be inferred from its gearbox. Automatic versus stick shift was once a personality test, apparently, with the stick shift being the butch option. Even Moxie's cheap-cat-food rebellion feels antique: now there are eleven subscription cat-food brands and none of them admit to being cheap. And cinderblocks on Craigslist in Rockledge, Florida? Ed wanted them but had no idea where Rockledge was. That's peak 2006: free stuff, zero GPS, all vibes.
“2006 Ed, did you honestly size up your Myspace visitor's stick shift as more butch and decide your own Saturn lost the lesbian-car contest, or was that just the cheap cat food talking?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, yeah, I sized it up, and honestly? The stick shift won. It's not just the cheap cat food, though that stuff probably didn't help my judgment any. That Saturn of mine is a pert little chick car, automatic, no balls whatsoever. Hers had a manual transmission. That's practically a different species. I felt like I was bringing a butter knife to a gun fight. So yes, I stood there in the driveway, comparing transmissions like some kind of vehicular masculinity contest, and mine lost. Moxie's hind end is still swollen and he hisses at me, so maybe I'm just projecting my own insecurities onto cars. But come on, a stick shift Saturn is basically the Alpha Saturn. Mine's the one that gets mocked in the parking lot. And for the record, I'd still take monkeys and beer over any fifteen-minute mummy ride. That's just science.
