On the Way to Kincardine in the El Camino

I only know a few couples that would talk in a British accent for the entire evening for fun.  These couples all have the exact same things in common.  The man generally enjoys (and feels a weird satisfaction) cutting the lawn.  The woman likes to make cakes in her spare time.  They are like the human version of what a Glee Club would be if every part of the ensemble was manufactured into a human body.  It makes me happy and feel sick all at the same time.  It’s a strange sensation.

There are too many salad dressings.  I can’t be walking up and down that aisle for 7 minutes looking at new types.  Just give me the top 5 that’s required.  It always works the same way.  “Hmmm, wonder what sweet onion parmesan would taste like?”  It’s a big risk – I’ll have this bottle for a minimum of two months.  Can’t chance it.

Grocery stores do seem to have better music nowadays.  This could be a combination of a couple of things.  People my age are in charge of the stores or the more likely scenario; I’m just noticing it more now because I’m actually paying attention and not just trying to find the chip aisle at a mad pace.

There were times where I would walk by the magazine section.  Maxim would obviously be sitting there for all to look at.  Growing up in a small town you couldn’t be caught with a Maxim in your hand at age 17.  You would get that look from a neighbor.  You know the look.  “Oh, my goodness.  What’s that Smith boy up to?  He probably smokes as well.  My Bobby would never be doing this.”  Meanwhile Bobby is beer touring with Big Willy on a side road out by Molesworth.

Molesworth is a small town going towards Wingham.  You knew when you hit Molesworth that you might as well shut your brain off for 30 minutes.  All there is to do is smell cow dung and look at farm animals.  That Adam Sandler stand up CD better be entertaining; because if not – I’m stopping at KFC for a bucket of chicken on the way to Kincardine.

El Camino’s are half truck and half car.  Whoever invented this was a bold person.  You have to think that if this idea fails I’m getting fu**ing canned.

There are two stuffed animals in our apartment.  I always have them facing me while sitting on the couch.  When I’m eating something that I probably shouldn’t be I look around the room – the stuffed sheep especially has a judgmental face.  This will sometimes stop me from eating the food, but more than likely I will just turn the sheep around to face the wall.

I don’t trust adults that wear backpacks while walking out and about.  I find it odd that you have prepared for wherever you are going so much that you have a full backpack of supplies.

Supply teaching would be a tough gig.  No rapport with the students.  They have no idea who you are.  You are trying to pick up where Mrs. Henderson left off.  Tommy is going to try to figure out how to push your buttons.  Tammy is going to take her cellphone out and Snapchat somebody giving you the finger while you are writing on the chalkboard.  It’s a no-win situation in my mind.

Top 3 things that they will have to speed through during tonight’s Oscars to keep my attention.

1) Lifetime achievement award. Bringing some 90 year old dude that would probably rather be eating soda crackers on the couch with Myrtle. This is not his scene.  Just mail him the award.

2) Best short film. Yup, there will never be a time in my life that I will say to myself. Maybe I should search for these 20 minute films that were short-listed for the Oscars.

3) What they are wearing Oscars commentators. If you showed me a dress that came from Old Navy versus Jean-Francois Beaulivier’s studded dress (this is all made up… I think) with fabric that can only be found in Southern France – I couldn’t tell the difference.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s