(no subject)
Good afternoon cyberspace, this is Wild Huck coming to you from a dentist appointment...
First off, I'd like to discuss two very intriguing dental questions:
1)Why does the dentist try to chat with you when you are having your cleaning? I mean, I can understand asking yes or no questions; that is acceptable. But, I'd like to make it clear that asking things like, "so, what do you do when you are not at work," is not a wise choice if you want to continue wielding pointy metal things in my mouth. Now that that is cleared up...
2)What is it about having gone to the dentist that inspires me to put on my most outrageous Brandon Flowers voice and sing loudly at the top of my lungs. God bless the day that my mother decided to play piano to me as a fetus; which I'm sure is responsible for this phenomenon. I'm not sure if the pre-birth music lessons had any positive effect on my vocal abilities, because it is ever so hard to hear oneself, but, certanly it imparted to me at least the musical gonads to sing at the top of my lungs absurdly in full sight of other patrons of highway 74. Yes, Jenny was a friend of mine, Brandon, and you are quite right Fiona, I too am an extraordinary machine. Woo Hoo!
David Howell died Monday and I dont really want to talk about it. However, on the way to his funeral yesterday, I encountered the single most annoying patron of the single most annoying store (Wal-Mart) ever. We were a full 15 minutes late to the funeral which I completely blame on the aforementiond patron who was in front of us in line at the cashier. She not only stole the cart that Adam went to get for us to use but then she had the gall to thank him and say how sweet it was of him that he went to get the cart for her and how he should work at Wal-Mart. Apparently, Adam has excessively good cart-getting skills that would be valuable to Wal-Mart and he would never consider getting a cart for his own use. Then the stupid lady proceeded to examine everything that we put on the conveyer belt to pay for and remark on it. I might add that fondling our groceries was more important to her than getting her money and paying etc. so we are all standing there waiting for her to remove her hands from our food and pay for hers and get the hell out. When she finally decided to pay, she slowly counted out 61 cents from small change, which shd did incorrectly the first time and had to re-count with the cashiers help. She then proceeded to whip out a CREDIT CARD to pay for the rest of the balance. You know, it is so vital to avoid finance charges on 61 cents. (I've taken the time to calculate the interest on that using the most outrageous interest rate that I've ever hear of- 24%. It comes out to be less than 15 cents. However, I'd like to point out that since she clearly had the 61 cents, she could have paid if off her next credit card bill avoiding any interest charges.) Of course, she didnt know how to use the credit machine so that took forever too. This would probably have been only mildly annoying to me if we werent caused to be late for the funeral for it but still, I want the world to know how inappropriate I find this type of small-town no-one's-time-is-valuable-so-why-not-waist-as-much-as-possible behavior.
It's time for me to go make bbq chicken and make my aux pioneer calendar and prepare for my rv tomorrow.
Oh wait, I'm going to Key Marathon in 6 weeks. Woo Hoo!