Normally, (Normally?) I’m a pretty quiet and reserved guy. That is, unless I get trapped into a conversation. Then I yap my head off, like some puppet somewhere is pulling on my strings! Barring the 18 hours a day that I mumble to myself, I require peaceful surroundings, so I can get on with my own life, a useless, frivolous waste of a naturally talented Idiot, rather than someone else yakking in my ear all damn day, and subliminally filling me up with tripe! I prefer my own tripe thanks!
Leslie, my mate, a self-proclaimed white Witch, and persistent screwball, she invites anyone to live with us that she considers part of her family: even if they go back to the last living Neanderthal, she’ll get swept up by his sob story, and the next thing I know, this ‘know it all’ is yakking in my face all day! He’s always trying to pull a rabbit out of his hat… Again? So all I see is ‘Mr. Know it all!’ What’s there to learn if you already think you know everything?
We started talking about baseball; a subject that interests me about as much as an enema! Anyway, I brought up the point that whenever they have a rain delay, it always seems to be the winning team that is now loosing. We put it down to psychological effects. Fine. Then he says players think they put the tarp down just to get at them, because it takes them 20 minutes to put it down, and then 20 minutes to roll it up!
I argued that it’s really only 20 minutes they’re missing purposefully, because it’s already raining when they lay it down, and stopped when they roll up, so at least 50% of the time is positive. So then he changes his story all of a sudden and says they might take 20 minutes to roll it up, and they might take 40, depending on how much they want to play with your head. I equally as suddenly, realized someone is playing with mine…
He’s an ‘intellectual’ which to me, is another word for ‘know it all’… So over the last 5 years living with the white witch, I have had to make a lot of changes in my perception of others, so I don’t start chopping people up with a meat cleaver! They’re lazy, they’re sloppy, and I think they should be executed via Tropicana’s scurvy orange juice, and silly putty vitamins!
Perhaps I should be more merciful, and merely pull his toe nails out, while I laugh with glee! I already tried sending him to Asia for eggs, but that didn’t work… He said he didn’t have enough gas :O( I guess I’m stuck with this blight on my brain indefinitely!
Maybe I should fake a stroke? No… Then they might think I’m faking coming out of it! I could always fill my ears with cement. How does that sound? I’m not crazy about crickets either! Same damn tune over and over again! Don’t know any Don Ho? Don Ho’s Greatest Ho Hits? Anyone?? Damn crickets :O(