Bob's My Uncle
Well I've just thoroughly fallen off the Ramadan wagon. I've been feeling sickly the past few days, and taking water to keep hydrated, and then... bah, eating to keep from throwing up. So yeah, I'm a puss. But Khalid instructed me that it's perfectly okay to break the fast for the sake of illness, so he told me to lay off it for awhile. He's just happy and proud of me for sticking to it as long as I did, although I wish I could have continued all the way to the end. I used to love pushing my limits. Used to. Why am I so weak now. What happened to the warrior goddess I used to think I could be. She turned it all in for 8 glasses of water a day and the opportunity to think dirty thoughts whenever they come to mind. Which is more than 8 times a day, let me assure you.
Mike is over right now, as he is every Monday night, and he and Joe are playing their favorite Playstation 2 wrestling game Raw vs. Smackdown, which allows you to create, design, and detail your own wrestlers with their own exotic names. Over the years we've created everyone from David Letterman to Hitler, and more than often make our own version of ourselves (Joe made his version of me as a wrestler, complete with generous mammaries and one of the most hideous outfits imaginable, so yeah, basically me as... me). Joe is currently working on a new version of himself crossed with a Chinese guy with a long beard named Fu Man Jew, and Mike is, as usual, slapping together another idealized version of himself as a totally ripped badasssss black muthahfuckah that somehow always wind up looking more like Big Jim Slade from The Kentucky Fried Movie (probably subconsciously idealized). But as much as I love watching my two favorite boys gleefully beat the snot out of each other while the house rings with their battle cries of "POW! POW! Ha, ha, kick in the mush! Arggh, git off my neck! OW, my urinary tract!" after about 2 hours straight of this I gotta crawl away and return to the realms of the real -- in this case, the internet. Yes, I am aware of the irony.
My throat hurts, and has been for days. Not terribly so, but just enough to be vaguely distracting. The braised beef and tortellini I had for dinner at the Olive Garden is sitting like a rock in my stomach.
I'm wearing my blue sweatpants that are two sizes too big for me, and my old Dog Faced Hermans T-shirt from ten years ago which I just discovered about an hour ago in the bathroom glows in the dark. Huh.
It's becoming autumn here. I miss the sound of high school football games in the distance behind my parents house, and wearing my heavy green and gold school jacket on exceptionally chilly nights. I miss driving to Mackey Island at midnight with S. and the gang. I miss Sci-Con at the Holiday Inn, and dancing to "She Blinded Me With Science" in the hotel ballroom with Robin sitting on his lap in his electric wheelchair. I miss Halloween with Jeanne and Lee as little kids. I miss skateboarding on the halfpipe my next door neighbor built in his driveway back in the 70's, with my beat-up little wooden deck with "Dogtown" painted underneath and the trucks recklessly loosened. I miss not worrying about money. I miss my dog Vic.
What does the autumn weather make you miss?
Mike is over right now, as he is every Monday night, and he and Joe are playing their favorite Playstation 2 wrestling game Raw vs. Smackdown, which allows you to create, design, and detail your own wrestlers with their own exotic names. Over the years we've created everyone from David Letterman to Hitler, and more than often make our own version of ourselves (Joe made his version of me as a wrestler, complete with generous mammaries and one of the most hideous outfits imaginable, so yeah, basically me as... me). Joe is currently working on a new version of himself crossed with a Chinese guy with a long beard named Fu Man Jew, and Mike is, as usual, slapping together another idealized version of himself as a totally ripped badasssss black muthahfuckah that somehow always wind up looking more like Big Jim Slade from The Kentucky Fried Movie (probably subconsciously idealized). But as much as I love watching my two favorite boys gleefully beat the snot out of each other while the house rings with their battle cries of "POW! POW! Ha, ha, kick in the mush! Arggh, git off my neck! OW, my urinary tract!" after about 2 hours straight of this I gotta crawl away and return to the realms of the real -- in this case, the internet. Yes, I am aware of the irony.
My throat hurts, and has been for days. Not terribly so, but just enough to be vaguely distracting. The braised beef and tortellini I had for dinner at the Olive Garden is sitting like a rock in my stomach.
I'm wearing my blue sweatpants that are two sizes too big for me, and my old Dog Faced Hermans T-shirt from ten years ago which I just discovered about an hour ago in the bathroom glows in the dark. Huh.
It's becoming autumn here. I miss the sound of high school football games in the distance behind my parents house, and wearing my heavy green and gold school jacket on exceptionally chilly nights. I miss driving to Mackey Island at midnight with S. and the gang. I miss Sci-Con at the Holiday Inn, and dancing to "She Blinded Me With Science" in the hotel ballroom with Robin sitting on his lap in his electric wheelchair. I miss Halloween with Jeanne and Lee as little kids. I miss skateboarding on the halfpipe my next door neighbor built in his driveway back in the 70's, with my beat-up little wooden deck with "Dogtown" painted underneath and the trucks recklessly loosened. I miss not worrying about money. I miss my dog Vic.
What does the autumn weather make you miss?
posted by Melissa at 10:05 PM
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