Friday, August 20, 2004

Assorted Hilarity

Assorted Hilarity Units

The Pope blessed some breakdancers the other day. Honestly, you need to see this if you haven't already; it takes the express elevator to the top of your basic "can't make this kind of shit up" list.

The Pope went on to say that while he enjoyed their performance, kids today don't kick the same kind of Old Testament skillz that he used to rock back in the day, when he was known by his street name: Rolling Papals.

I just came back from lunch, delicious lunch, at the Baja Fresh up the street. There's this lady working the counter there who doesn't speak a whole lot of the English, and she kept saying that the same number order was ready every time she announced one on the loudspeaker: "Number 24 is ready, number 24 is ready." I checked, too. Different orders every time.

On the way back to my office, I saw three people nearly eat it in the worst way on the icy sidewalks. What is it with the MD/DC/VA area freaking out over the slightest bit of snow or ice? They just closed the federal government at 2:30, because there is a sprinkle of frozen water on the sidewalk. I'm not kidding. Next, they'll be rolling Tom DeLay in bubble wrap, so his fat ass doesn't shatter like a champagne flute when he falls coming out of the Old Ebbitt Grill.

OK, I almost fell too. It would have especially sucked, since i was carrying these huge fricking notebooks that I had just picked up from a new client; there is no way i could have deployed my arms and legs in that spastic, flailing, balance-restoring dance in time to save myself from grim, wet destruction.

Today has been a bangin' day for my eye-hand coordination. Just a minute ago, i wrapped a bunch of orange peels up in a paper towel, and tossed them under my desk into where the trash can usually is. I just remembered the trash can is on the other side today.

Earlier today, i toddled into the bathroom to go blow my nose, usually an uneventful process. But today, while doing my usual Harlem Globetrotters-style self-pass from the shelf, I fumbled the brand-new roll of toilet paper and bobbled it right into the toilet. Full roll of TP, plonk, right in the toilet. As I stood there, blankly staring at the soaking toilet paper bobbing about, I wondered aloud: "what is it, o Lord, that makes me so fucking awesome? Am I always destined for this level of greatness?"

I pondered this and many other questions as I, with great poise and dignity, fished the newly-opened, sopping wet roll of toilet paper out of the bowl.