Showing posts with label brain damage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brain damage. Show all posts

Monday, November 30, 2009

The Trouble with Shopping


It can be extremely difficult for a distractible man to focus on purchasing slippers for his wife at the department store, when the slipper department is next to the brassiere department.

I was looking right at the slippers but on the next rack were some bra’s (Ha! Rack. Bra’s…well, see, there I go again). They were nice. The bra’s. I mean the slippers. See the trouble here?

My thoughts while shopping went something like this:

“Well there’s a nice pair. I wonder what the material feels like. Ooh, soft. Nice. She’ll like that. And they’ve got some rubber reinforcement underneath too – that will help when she’s running around chasing the kids.”

“The tips might be a bit pointy - I know she likes a more rounded look - but she can always exchange, I guess. Easy to slip on and off quickly it would appear – that’s good.”

“I’m just not sure of the size. These look about right but I’m just not sure any more. She’s getting back into running and that can affect things as well. I’d hate to see her hanging out the sides. Plus if they don’t fit properly they can cause some back strain.”

I turned to the woman next to me for assistance.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but you look like you’re about the size of my wife – can I compare yours to my wife’s and see if they fit?”

It was at that point I realized I was holding a brassiere and not a pair of slippers. My mind had wandered as usual, and the bra I was holding was for a serious pair of, well, 'gazongas' is the word that springs to mind. I honestly do not remember picking that one up.

My face was still red from the slap, and here I was in the local jail, awaiting charges of Attempted Perversion Upon a Nun.

“I honestly didn’t realize I had wandered over to the other rack, your Honour. Ha-ha – rack, yeah. I laughed too, your Honour.”

“No sir, I don’t recall asking her to "rub them together to see if they generate static electricity". I was probably thinking of the slippers, sir.”

“Yes, sir, it is a first offense and a fine would be most appropriate in this circumstance, and I thank you for no criminal record, sir.”

“Well, Your Honour, I think I’d rather spend some time in jail, but if you think releasing me into my wife’s custody will be best for me then I guess I’ll obey your wishes, although if I had retained a lawyer I’m sure he would be saying that is cruel and unusual punishment right about now.”

“Yes sir, I realize my ear will bend back eventually. Thank you, sir, and I hope you find the tennis balls for your wife without too much trouble. You might want to be careful though, sir, the sporting goods are right next to the swimsuit racks.”

“Yes, us guys have to stick together – I agree. You’re welcome, Your Honour. Merry Christmas to you too, sir.”

Friday, November 6, 2009

Travel Writing

I’ve been meaning to do more travel writing, and not just because I heard you can cadge free trips for doing so.


All the great writers of the world - Hemingway, Shakespeare, Stalin - got free airline travel to far off places and wrote about them for fun and profit. Why not me?


Just to show that I (and my family) are worthy of several international junkets, let me tell you about Disneyland, truly a magic kingdom where dollar bills are made to magically disappear at a magically fast pace.


I took the family there once, and we experienced a wonderful world of joy until our money ran out about an hour later. After that, we enjoyed many of the free activities that are available on site, such as trash and coin picking up, washroom visiting, letting the kids shine shoes until the cops come along, and of course the many free parades where grandmothers nod off on benches and leave their handbags slightly open.


Meanwhile, my wife and I were debating whose kidney to sell so we could enjoy a hot dog.


We also suffered severe brain damage by going on the ‘It’s a Small World’ boat ride, the only ride we could afford, where an endless array of loud speakers played the incredibly sweet, repetitive song ‘It’s a Small Annoying World After All’ over and over and over!


The ride starts off pleasantly enough. You meander along in your small boat through scenic world vistas while listening to the treacly, skull-numbing song It’s a Small Price to Pay for Not Having Your Kids Barf After All.


Something like that.


Then the song starts getting to you, and you realize there is no escape. After the 17th repetition of It’s OK to Spend Money After All, you begin to notice subtleties in the music you didn’t hear before. Like the sound of gunshots from the staff room as long-term staff (one hour) begin blasting their toes off with powerful handguns rather than submit their ears to another minute of this brain-mushing torture.


You notice after the 29th repeat of It’s a Small Price to Pay for a Hotdog You Are Getting Very Sleepy After All, that you are still only one third of the way along the winding, butt-numbing route.


The people in the boat ahead of you, who boarded their tub with traces of joy on their faces, are now starting to dribble blood from their ears as they search for ways to use the emergency fire axe on their shipmates in order to escape the din.


Meanwhile, the musical number It’s Good To Vote For Dick Cheney Who Sits On The Disney Board After All continues, getting louder and louder, and you find there is no throttle on the boat to make it go faster. There are no ejection seats or life rafts or signal flares either. You are stuck in it and forced to look at stupid little robots shouting their stupid song It’s a Long Way to The Exit So Hand Us Your Wallet You Fat Slob After All and why is my face twitching again!?


We learned our lesson that first day, and for the remainder of the trip we just stayed in our hotel room and watched the Disney Channel on TV. We had Disneyland representatives come directly to our room every few hours to take piles of cash from us by humming the song It’s Like Water Boarding After All, which worked out great since it kept us from getting sore feet and the kids didn’t urp up corn dogs and we had ready access to beverages for washing down our anti-psychotic medications.


So, airlines and exotic hotels! What do you say? Comps on their way?


Tell you what. You undo these straps I’ve been gnawing on, and then I can get started on the Hawaii piece right away. Deal?