Thursday, November 29, 2007
Things To Do Before I Die
You know how people have those lists of cool things they want to do before the keel over? Like “Go to France and spit on the Eiffel Tower” (I’m a wee bit afraid of heights, so I’d just spit ON the thing, much easier than having to swallow a bottle of Atavan just so I could get in the elevator), “Learn a foreign language so I can pick up chicks/dudes in France” and “Meet J.K. Rowling and kick her in the boo-roo for the incredibly lame epilogue to Book Seven.”
Nothing so pedantic and boring for me, my friend.
— See the house remodel finished. (this is un-possible, I know, but a boy can dream)
— Moonwalk (the Michael Jackson dance move, not walk on the moon, though that would be kind of cool, but I’m pretty sure I’d get sick during flight training for the moon, throw up during the centrifuge test, have to leave astronaut school in disgrace and become a rutabaga farmer like my cousin Bernie (the one with the removable eye who did time for monkey smuggling).)
— A back flip from standing straight up. (Note to self, start wearing a helmet while practicing and stop practicing on concrete)
— Finish my giant paper mache Millennium Falcon Project. (it’s going to be SO awesome once I figure out how make a tiny furry Chewbacca out of the sports section)
— Invent time machine and go back in time to 2000 and smack every single voter in Florida who voted for Pres. Bush upside the head with a large and smelly trout. Then run away. (Alternatively, if the time machine proves difficult to construct, just find Karl Rove and kick him in the shins. Hard.)
— Get all restraining orders against me lifted. (Specifically, the ones involving Jen and Carrot Top (I don’t like to talk about that one very much. He knows why. I kept trying to tell the authorities the pepper spray just went off; it was a total accident, but no one believed me down at the station, what with the paper trail of weird emails I kept sending him at 4 AM every Thursday. It was a strange time in my life, that’s all I should say.))
— Get Bill Gates home number and prank call him. (“Is your refrigerator running?” that sort of thing. I’m not proud of this one)
— Randomly reach around and tap strangers on the shoulder on the bus and then act like I wasn’t the one who tapped them on the shoulder. Repeat many times until they either move away from me or ask me to stop. (This is such a good idea, I might start riding the bus just to do it.)
You know… at some point, I think I might have to sit down and make a real “before I die to do list.” ’Cause honestly? Besides take Reha on a trip to Venice and see the kids grow up, I can’t think of that much I simply have to do.
Which is not to say that I’m ready to die, but I don’t feel anything that pressing.
Hmm. Perhaps a dose of ambition might be in order.
What’s on your “List”? Can I just steal yours?
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Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?
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