Ugh.

Ever wonder what that movie scene moment would be like to cause an explosion and then walk away? Me neither. However, I did discover that when you drive away while still attached to the gas pump, there is no massive explosion. At least not in my case.

Ugh.

Yup. I drove away while still attached to the pump. Gassing up, I jumped back in my vehicle the other morning to resync my phone to the dashboard menu. It took about three minutes and during that time I forgot I was still attached so I drove away. When I heard a noise and noticed the gas pump nozzle hanging out of my vehicle, I experienced disbelief, belief, denial, disbelief, belief and a bowel movement pretty much simultaneously. Confused, I hopped out of my vehicle, checked the hose AND WHAT SORT OF TRICKERY IS THIS? The nozzle has a breakaway feature? And no damage to my vehicle? BLEEPING GENIUS. So I pushed the hose and the nozzle back together. BUT WAIT COULD IT POSSIBLY BE THIS SIMPLE?

I immediately entered the gas station and confessed, and then, like some sort of Dunning-Kruger effect ground zero, asked, "is it fixed then?" I will quote the response of the woman behind the counter.

"Ugh. No. It is NOT fixed. I will fix it. This happens. All. The. Time. Just go. Please go. We should really start charging for this. Ugh. It's okay. It's not that big of a deal. Just go. Just have a nice day."

Her admirable Canadian politeness training kicked in, but quite honestly, she did not give a shit about whether or not I would have a nice day. Nevertheless, I AM GRATEFUL FOR THIS GAS STATION MIRACLE.

One final caution: do not assume all pumps have this feature.

This is my hood:

Um, thanks for this important information about...

(Perhaps your ink ran? Or perhaps this is some advertising ploy to force me to return to this pole sign again and again and again like some puppet until you share the info you're playing hard to get with? And if so, how very dastardly of you indeed.)

Wordfuse (Irk Edition)

Why so wifickle?!

(adj) Wifickle!

Grr. (interjection)

Let's be honest:

this wants me.

#itdoes
#icantell
#dontbeshy
#iwantyoutoo

Wordfuse (Just frickin do it Edition)

womandate (noun): woman + mandate = an order, an edict, a directive, a command issued by a woman aka those non-negotiable things we guys just have do for the women we love and there's no point in even discussing it. Sigh.

Wordfuse (Pitiful Attempt Edition)

blundertaking (noun): blunder + undertaking = the act or endeavor of one who embarks on a task, project or pursuit that he or she is almost surely doomed to screw up; however, the blundertaker, compelled by the remote possibility of success (aka a 1% chance), feels driven to attempt anyway. See here and here. And see here as I continue to attempt do-it-yourself plumbing today. 


(Maybe say a prayer.)

April?



No joke. This is my front yard. *weeps a little*



Things that are most likely the devil:

Gourmet dessert truffles are basically chocolate-flavoured butter. Just sayin' (and salivating like the dog-raised-on-trans-fat that I am).

Excuses

     Some people have excuses for everything.

     I wish.

     I only have a few excuses, usually used because they seem more polite than saying no to various requests. Occasionally, I might say, “I have to check with my wife.” Often this is a lie. My wife isn’t the check-with-her-first type. As well, I probably say, “I can’t because my kids need me” when in fact, they scarcely know I’m alive lately.

     I also employ the “man excuse.” In other words, “I can’t do that because I’m a guy.” This applies to a variety of situations such as clothes shopping, dressing myself with panache (not going to happen) or recognizing a dirty bathroom.

     But the excuses I really long for are those solid explanations for my own pitiful behaviors, explanations that people would accept without question. I want a pat and logical excuse for laziness and irrational anger! I want my faults overlooked! I want people to take me seriously if I say something like Homer Simpson, “Well excuse me for having huge flaws that I don’t work on!”

     It’s not going to happen though is it? Despite all this whining I know I’m too old for this shit. Adult tantrums are inexcusable. I know, I know. Grow up. Three words right? “Suck it up.”

     Still though, wouldn’t it be cool to be pardoned like a huffy child? I want someone to declare, “Forgive him; he just needs a nap!”

     And I do. Don’t we all sometimes?

Patting my Pate

Since shaving my head as part of a cancer fundraiser, I have noticed something that I suspect is similar to what pregnant women experience. Instead of rubbing my belly though (which might be somewhat appropriate considering the current state of my belly's bulge-ness), people like to rub my head. Yes indeed, people--even strangers--enjoy patting my pate, caressing my crown and okay, enough with the excessive alliteration. Sorry.
Anyway, I sort of love this. A group of people surrounded me recently and one person rubbed my head forward and said, "kitty," then rubbed it back and remarked "porcupine." Back and forth, back and forth, this went on for a while and I just waited and smiled. This is what pets experience all the time I guess.
And who wouldn't want to be a pet? Adopt me. Feed me. Scratch me. Pet me. Tell others how much you love me. Take excessive photos of me and include me in your updated status. Let me put my head out the window while you drive. Hold news conferences when I am treated poorly. Thrown me a bone every once in a while. Isn't this like every guy's dream?