If anyone ever offers you a breath mint, you should just say thank you and take it. You either have bad breath and they are trying to be polite or they were just brought up to share. Either way, you don't want to take the chance, so take the mint... even if you're like me and hate them with a passion.
If you are driving and find yourself blocking the cross walk, do. not. back. up. Pedestrians like me will be walking behind your car and you will almost run them over. Just sit there and look stupid, don't run me over and look stupider.
If you're like me and have started to add 'bin' to your friends and pets names, don't make the mistake and call your boss "Boss bin Man." Taylor bin TayTay, Jen bin sweetsweet, or John bin Powers is fine, but you really don't want to have a person thinking you think of them the same way as you do Osama bin Ladin. When in fact you're just trying to make that hypocrit terrorist's name seem a lot less forboding.
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So... yesterday I had to jet out of work to get home to vacuum and clean the bathroom before the leasing agent stopped by our current apartment to have us sign copies of our lease for the new apartment.
He was supposed to show for 6pm. I was home by 5:15 and had the place sparkling in dim light by 5:45.
The guy pressed our buzzer at 9:15 PM. I swear the only valid reason for being over 3 hours late is if you're a baby and you just don't feel like leaving the womb yet.
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My strongest friend Dave Bin Blank called me at about 8:15 this morning to tell me that he can't help me move this Saturday. He has rehearsal for my friends Gary and Mel's wedding that day and he just can't get it all done.
That's fine, I understand, but moving just isn't going to be the same without him. You see, Dave has helped me move every time including when I first came to this city in 1998, and I have moved every year on the year since.
He helped me move into my Young Orchard basement apartment that had a fireplace and granite tiled kitchen floor and counters.
A year later, he helped me move out of there and then move all of my stuff (including a 90 gallon fish tank that weighed more than Texas) into storage and then all of Jens stuff from her 3rd floor apartment into storage because Jen and I were moving in together for the first time and there was a week and a half gap between our old leases and our new place.
He then helped us move everything out of storage and into the second floor apartment in the pink house with floors warped like ocean waves on a shore built in 1776.
THEN he helped us the next year move everything from the 1776 falling apart house into our current place - in the longest stretch of downpours ever to hit Providence.
And now, just over a year later we are moving again. With no Dave Bin Blank. It feels like the end of an era.
I should have enough bodies, but if you own a truck and are in the area, let me know. I'll buy you soda beer pizza and start calling you Great bin Friendfriend.
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I got my hair cut yesterday. I now look studly again - as opposed to sheep dogish.
The hair Gel the guy used on me had to have been industrial adhesive. I swear I stabbed myself running my fingers through it.
I didn't bleed, but I was sure to be careful when I kissed Jen. The last thing I need right now is a blind girlfriend.
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Umm. Last night I had the greatest night sleep I've had in about 4 days. I think with the impending move, Jen losing her job, the WTC stuff, my having a hard time at work with this development project from hell, and with overwhelming and unexplainable urges to sing Pink Floyd songs every morning, I've had too much going through my tiny little brain to nod off before 3 or 4 am.
But last night - after finally getting the lease signed - I fell right asleep. I think my mind is a bucket and that bucket was overflowing. Signing the 27 pages of our lease must have emptied that brain bucket just enough to get me to relax.
Or I was just so exhausted I passed out.
Who knows.
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I swear this morning while I was walking to work I heard someone say "They killed Osamma" but when I got to work fully expecting a huge headline on MSNBC.com to read
"We are now bombing Afghanistan to just get Bin Laden's body so we can can ship it back to the US so the President can pee on it during a nationaly telivised broadcast."
But there was no such headline.
Now I'm wondering what that guy said...
"They killed my Momma."?
"It was distilled in Tijuana."?
"Bill me. Do you wanna?"?
"It was filmed in Botswana."?
I don't know... and I never will.
Such is life.
