December is essentially halfway over now, and I've just realized there's about 7 days left until Christmas. You know what this means, right? I've survived more than two weeks of this forsaken month without being barraged by holiday jingles and other commercial crap!
"Oh, so you're one of THOSE people, the ones that can't appreciate holiday cheer" --you
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| I can only assume this is the German equivalent |
So the question that's been gripping my mind for the better half of this month has been the future direction of this blog: Do I continue being an edgy goofball, or start doing lame crappy serious posts?
Okay, I wasn't actually thinking about that the whole month, but the answer is quite clear.
Making goofy, meme-filled posts with witty remarks takes actual creative muscle and thought, whereas in lame crappy posts I am merely repeating the events of the day.
I've decided to do a little bit of both for this post, so here's the lame crappy part. storytime start!
I woke up (or well, I lay in bed for a couple hours is more accurate) with a huge headache and a growling stomache. I thought perhaps if I had some breakfast it would solve both issues, but it ended up only solving one. For some strange reason I decided to have breakfast at Burger King, with my dad. Fate works in mysterious ways sometimes doesn't it.
When I walked outside I noticed two things:
- It was much warmer than I'd expected.
- It was raining.
Dad did the driving, as I'm still traumatized like a triggered tumblrina by that incident from a few months ago(but actually because I'm lazy and complacent).
As he turned to enter the shopping center he said "Hey we're here already, it's pretty close by, do you want to park or-"I sighed.
It was McDolands.
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| This post is in no way an endorsement of the burger king, as he is guilty of some equally heinous crimes. |
"Oh, oops!"
One can only assume he had gotten the two mixed up, but it gets worse.
After an exasperated correction on my part we were at the capitalist monarch's establishment, eating hash browns (more like hash nuggets) and sipping coffee. You may already be aware of my intense dislike for this black beverage, and this particular specimen was too hot, and unseasoned, making it doubly unappealing. Well, when life gives you beans, you... grow a beanstalk, climb it up to the castle in the clouds, and murder the giant within. Yup.
I went and grabbed a ton of "half and half" creamer and sugar substitute packets and gave my coffee an MJ, if you know what I mean. I then wondered why the level of coffee in the cup had gone back up despite having taken a big swig just a minute ago, then realized I had poured in that much of the creamer liquid. Happens every time.
Spotting the sugar substitutes, Dad gives me his typical warning about how ingesting artificial sweeteners cause cancer
"Dad, you've been saying this stuff for years, but you've never done any research on it, and you can't cite any scientific evidence that would support this."
"Yeah, that's because the government is hiding all the proof. The corporations are paying them off so they can keep making money."
"You realize this sounds a lot like a conspiracy theory, right?"
"Yes, it is."
I remember that he's never learned to associate the term "conspiracy theory" with being fraudulent and misleading. I consider bringing him up to speed on the subject with a full fledged explanation involving aliens and all, but I've still got a headache and I just want to finish my breakfast in peace.
Now Dad, he grabs some seasoning stuff for his coffee too. He pours in 2 packets of real sugar, about 10 little cups of creamer, and then takes out some ketchup packets.
Yes, ketchup. For his coffee.
He doesn't even realize until he's already squeezed a packet in. "Oh, man," he laughs it off and somehow manages to down the whole cup without trouble. He's good at that sort of thing.
After finishing his coffee, there's still some residue ketchup in the cup. So what does he do? He takes the remainder of my hash nuggets and dumps them all in.
"Good thinking there Dad," I say, "but I was still going to eat those."
"Oh, sorry," he replies, and pours a few back out for me.
Well then.
We finish these "pre-dipped" hash nuggets, and Dad announces he's going to get a refill. He takes his coffee cup to the soda fountain and fills it up with Powerade and orange drank, spilling some in the process.
I almost wanted to snap a picture of him, sitting at the table, squinting at his cell phone(the battery of which is almost empty), his fingers stained green as he sips the kind of vile concoction my friends used to create in their "experiments" with cafeteria food back in elementary school. Unfortunately I didn't, so you'll just have to use your imagination.
We clean up and get back in the van, when he remembers that he's expecting a check in the mail.
"[My bank] paid Burger King by mistake, yeah, Burger King took my money, and I need it back."
"No Dad, we just went to Burger King, you mean CarMax."
"Ah, yeah."
So we drop by his place and he checks the mailbox. Surprisingly enough, there is indeed a check from CarMax, but it's for the wrong amount.
"Why is it [this amount]?"
"I don't know, you should ask them."
"I'm going to ask Mom, she'll be able to help me with this."
"I can 100% guarantee that she won't know either."
"Okay." I just know that he's going to do it anyway, which will cause its own set of problems. But that's a tale for another day.
Anyway after all this happens, I arrive home. As I walk up to the front door, I take my coat's hood off too early, and a big ole raindrop drips off the rim of the roof above the door onto my unprotected head.
And the day has just begun.
"And the new day was a great big fish." -- Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment
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