What? Tomorrow's Friday
Irrelevant Since Circa 1993
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Blog the Twenty-Sixth: Hard Time Concentrating, Gran Tarino's on
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26 is my soccer number. Just saying. We had a game today. We lost.
Sniff.
Moving forward, we got a cabin. As in, the Rooker family can now leave their home and stay elsewhere. Elsewhere being a small red box on Lake Marie in South Haven.
Ever heard of South Haven? Prob'ly not, considering it's population...
...No, I'll leave you hanging there.
['What's the population of South Haven, Alaina? Please, tell us. Is it smaller than our town? Under 10,000? Slightly over?]
Anyway, it's unbelievably close to Annendale, and so that's where I'm going to be for the next few weeks of my life. And I thought rentals were work. We need to reclaim the place from tall grass and weeds first. That's all I'm going to think about. If someone mentions any other problem area, I'll go all second grade on them by plugging my ears and drowning out their noise by singing a loud rendition of...
Not Mortal Kombat. There is absolutely no way I can top Haley's cherubic key-vocals.
I'll sing the Big Comfy Couch Song. No regrets, Big Comfy Couch was the coolest show ever.
[C'mon, I need to know. What is the population of South Haven? I could care less about the BCC. I don't know why, but suddenly this tidbit seems like it could be valuable information.]
NEVER!
Now, I have a question that you, the audience, can answer. [Or me n' Haley under various aliases]
WHY IS EVERYBODY DYING?
Celebrities, at least.
Farrah Fawcett, Ed Mcmahon, Michael Jackson, Billy Mays...
Is the Shamwow guy next? I need your theories. Like fish need air. And water. Together.
[Like, they still breathe air, but not really, because they die without water, so they need both, like the twin cores need each other to like feed off each other until the headmaster dies and Harry's wand breaks and You-Know-Who sneaks into Dumbledore's grave and nicks the Elder Wand?]
I really hope OxyClean does okay without the Chuck Norris of Advertising on their side.
[Please, please, PLEASE, I'm dying to know, how many people live in South Haven?!]
Oh no. NO! I couldn't. Stop it!
Cough. 193 people. Cough.
AHH!
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3 Comments
I wish I was joking.
That's close enough to dying.
I mean, personally I would rather die than go around like that guy in POTC with a parrot on my shoulder that would tell everyone why I am no longer able to speak.
"Prostitute! Squawk!"
Horrible Luck, really.
And if you meet Smokey the Bear up in hickville, can you tell him the merger rumors are false? His agent won't leave mine alone. I mean seriously... 'Stop Forest Fires Barbie'?!
Gag me.
Bully.
And I think everyone is dying because they're getting Bugs.
You've never heard of Bugs?
Netflix it.
There's motel rooms of tin foil and crazy government testing escapees.
And one more thing.....
193 PEOPLE?!! That isn't even a town!
That's....
That's....
Like, the number of people that show up at Perkins before 5:00a.m. to get some type of discount.
Crazy, stuff man.
Oops!
Oops, you forgot something.