TALLY HO!

Welcome to the workweek friends. I've missed you since we last interacted on Wednesday past. Well since you last read my beauteous thoughts and then gave me no feedback whatsoever, but who among us would make hay over such fine distinctions while amidst the company of friends. Oh yea, me. That being said, this post promises to be short, owing to a particularly stubborn case of the hiccups.

My friends, I cannot underestimate my shock at this moment. I have tried drinking water, holding my breath, looking at naked pictures of Whoopie Goldberg and yet, nothing. I have found neither refuge nor respite from these insidious and treacherous attacks on my person. I sit here immobilized, impotent to retaliate. How! How, I ask you, have we, the greatest species ever to roam this planet, with minds at our disposal that have made it possible to create a knife so sharp it can cut though a shoe; with minds so inventive we need 47 channels devoted to infomercials ever morning from 3 -8 am; how can we have all of this and yet have still discovered a solution to this scourge?

The mind absolutely boggles at the number of man hours that must be wasted every day by people jerking about to and fro like epileptic fish, tossed hither and thither like the morning catch at a fish market, and left at the non-existent mercy of trapped air in the gastrointestinal cavities. And yet, I overcome. I rallied, marshaled my forces to the silent yet resounding cry of Tally - hiccup - Ho! So without further ado, an abbreviated version of:

The Top Five Things That Bother Me Today:

#5 - The gas pump - Are we really still at the point where I need to stand outside a car in 10 degree weather to fill up a gas tank? We can refuel planes in midair at six hundred miles an hour with highly flammable jet fuel, but you're telling me there's no way to get a parked car filled with 89 unleaded without sacrificing my health? Also I know foreign oil is evil, I've gotten the memo, but I get the idea that they're rubbing their power over us in our respective noses, otherwise, why the hell else would the lever on the gas pumps that I have to stand outside in the freezing cold in order to fill my car with gas, BE MADE OF FREAKING METAL! Every time I hold one of those doohickeys in my hand I'm convinced when I let go, I'll be parting with a swath of skin. The fact that it hasn't happened yet, is by the way, of no consolation. It's like knowing an attack of the hiccups is coming, what are you gonna do huh? Suffer, that's what.

UPDATE: I need to start filing patents as soon as I think these things up http://gizmodo.com/352441/a-robot-that-pumps-your-gas-at-long-last

#4 - The fact that I don't own a Wii - So my nephew got a Wii for his birthday on Sunday, he's six. Let me repeat that, my six year old nephew who is still impressed by change coming out of his ear got a Wii for his birthday whilst the closest I've gotten to an interactive gaming system is wadding up sheets of paper and shooting them into my garbage can.

#3 - Screeching - Why is it that God made children under the age of lets say ten years, people - if you use the term in its broadest sense - without the native intelligence to use it wisely, capable of vocalizing at pitches equal to the task of shattering my ear drums is a mystery and quite frankly, a grievance I hold with the man upstairs.

#2 - The Sunday morning paradox - I will revisit this for a more in-depth discussion but I will address it in brief now. In short, the Sunday morning paradox refers to the dilemma one faces on Saturday night at approximately 1am. To go to sleep or not? On the one hand, it is the weekend, on the other, one can only sleep so late Sunday morning, and if you stay up till 4 and sleep till 10am, by 10pm you will be exhausted and Monday becomes all the more dreaded

#1 - Hiccups! - Really? You need me to explain this?