Scatterbrain Saturday 7-11-09

Note to CiCi's Pizza: If my feet stick to the floor like a giant octopus coated with Polident, and I have to pick the brown lettuce out of the salad, and the dude wiping and mopping a soda spill only wipes the TOP of the table, not the edge where quivering liquid stalactites hang waiting for a victim... it might be time for the health department to pay a visit. Just sayin'.

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August 10 is too early to start school. Summer still has six weeks to simmer. The thermostats are currently locked at 75. I will die. Even when they were locked at 72, I almost expired. Because when 28 kids pile into that room, they raise the temperature at least two degrees, and the thermostat thingy doesn't kick on the air conditioner for another 10 minutes. So if a miracle or some skullduggery doesn't occur, my room will be 77 degrees for half of every class period. Granted, it's better than the school without air conditioning, where my room had windows facing the blacktop gym roof, and we regularly attempted to learn 7th and 8th grade science with 35 kids per class in 105 degrees each August and September. But still, I am old now, and demand my creature comforts.

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If you give HH a day off, he demands that The Pony leave the house and get some fresh air. This is done by forcing The Pony to ride the 4-wheeler, in which he has no interest, and hasn't ever tried to ride alone. During this venture, HH will discover that the little 4-wheeler needs a battery. That means he will drive back to town for the second time this morning and pay The Devil a visit. Being an opportunist, HM will request that HH bring her back a Sonic Medium Strawberry Slush, because turn about is fair play, and only yesterday HH sent HM on a mission to find his balls. Knowing HH, HM will emphasize three times, in two different phone conversations, that she wants a Sonic Medium Strawberry Slush, the third call being initiated by HH to ask, "Was it a cherry or strawberry slush?" When HH gets home, he is strangely quiet, and by quiet, that means his heavy footfalls sound throughout the house, but he does not holler for a boy to deliver the eagerly-awaited slush. Sending The Pony to inquire brings the slush right to the desk of HM. The LARGE Sonic Strawberry Slush. In some things, large is better than medium. Not in a Sonic Strawberry Slush. There is just more of the icy chemical stuff, not more strawberries or syrup, and the cup is unwieldy. Under interrogation, HH admits that while he ORDERED a medium, the girl brought out a large, saying that because it took so long, she upgraded the order. This, HH found out when he opened his truck door to get it, because the window doesn't work, which reminded him that he needs to get that window fixed. Watch for further adventures of HH in the 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie' series.

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Our highway has been undergoing some work to put posts and cables along the median to prevent crossover accidents. That's a lot of money to spend because us hillbillies are too stupid to drive on our own side of a divided highway. Or else we can't stay sober until we are off the divided highway. I doubt that we're the only state doing that, though. We have to have laws to vaccinate kids against diseases, because even though they can go to the county health center and get the vaccinations for all their 18 kids for free, people are too stupid to keep their kids from dying of measles and whooping cough. Thank goodness we don't live in New York, where people just might be taxed on sugary sodas and drinks, because they are too stupid to deny their kids soda and let them weigh 800 lbs. Now Florida has too many pythons in the Everglades, so there's gonna be some new law so people don't wander willy-nilly through the Everglades and get squeezed to death faster than a sleeping toddler in a house with a nine-foot albino reticulated python.

PEOPLE PISS ME OFF!