Paranthetical Madness (enough to drive a grammar teacher insane)
Monday, Sept. 17, 2007 at 8:28 a.m.
On This Day in 1965, CBS television premieres Hogan's Heroes, the first and perhaps only sitcom based in a German prisoner-of-war camp. The show is proof once and for all that Nazis are hilarious.
And you know, the fact that this show went on for several seasons and is still a well-loved syndication show just continues to prove to me the utter lack of taste of the American gen pop. Bleah. Bless Bob Crane�s heart, though, no one deserves to have their brains beaten out by a tripod hitherto used to hold the camera that filmed his sexual escapades. See the movie Auto Focus if you have no idea what I�m talking about.
Anyway, I had a small bit of angst this weekend as Trixie died on me in the Joann�s parking lot. Oh, for those just joining us, Trixie is my 2006 Toyota Matrix (and oddly enough, the car was named before the choice was made to buy a Matrix; I had already decided that I would have a blue car named Trixie or a red car named Brucie. On another note, my iPod is also named Trixie. It hasn�t caused any confusion yet, at least not with me, and the Hubster tries to not make too much sense out of the things I say anyway). So the fact that the car is less than 2 years old (if you count when it actually rolled off the assembly line, and yes, I�ll eventually stop these long asides) and it has already been in the shop once for some sort of transmission computer problem, you can imagine my annoyance when I hopped into Trixie�s front seat (which already has a very comfortable impression of my backside; not stopping the asides yet, ha ha!) and tried to fire the girl up and she just went click click click click click click click.
So, a call to Hubster, the dealership, a tow truck, another call to the dealership, and a third and fourth call to the dealership, I left the keys in the car (!!!!!) and drove off with the Hubster in his 2007 penis extension Nissan 350Z (I joke. Hubster needs neither a penis extension or a girth enhancement) and awaited the fate of the erstwhile Trixie. Well, it turned out to be a short in the battery, and the dealership not only didn�t charge me for the battery but also ate the cost of the tow (it really doesn�t look good to have a newer-model car towed into the property while hundreds of Saturday car-shoppers watch).
So, I really hope that I didn�t use all of my stored-up Karma for the car incident, as I�ll be needing all the Karma I can get for the surgery coming up in two weeks. I�ve resigned myself to the three-day clear liquid diet, although I haven�t yet steeled myself for the enema experience (Hubster has already declared that I will have to take care of this myself; he has a strict rule about things going in where things only go out. I think women have an easier time with this notion because of our anatomy, but the idea of the enema still gives me the jibblies. Perhaps if I have enough of the jibblies, however, the enema won�t be necessary). Anyway, flavoured gelatin was 5 for $1 at Walgreens, and I picked up a large amount of apple juice and Otter Pops. Frozen flavoured corn syrup, yum!
Perhaps I gained some Karma for the Karma bank because I had a long conversation with my mother on Friday (�I haven�t heard from you in a while, Valkyrie. . .� �I�ve been kind of busy with, oh, life, Mom, in the past, oh, 48 hours, which is how long it�s been since I talked to you . . .�) and she was really trying to get me to invite them out for Christmas although I did manage to get them to consider January, after all the travelers have left but before everyone shows up for the Superbowl, and certainly after I�ve had a chance to heal after the surgery (which Mom is not going to know about unless absolutely necessary, which is to say, never).
So anyway, that�s the news from la casa Valkyrie. Perhaps I�ll stop now with the parantheticals? (Nah. But how about a picture instead?)
Talk about lost in translation (or perhaps, the most apropos translation?):
Yeah, I�m not having my surgery here.