Story Time

... and that's the last time I mix bourbon with toilet water!



Oh, sorry my faithful reader, I didn't notice you there. I was just finishing up a children's story. You should always end with a lesson.



So, one of my good friends came up to me after the last blog and said, "Papa Bear, maybe you should only post when you have something to say."

Well... my ex-friend was right, and from now on, after this post, I will no longer try to conjure up random bits of information from my drab and boring existence to entertain you.



But, while you're already here, let me tell you about roughly what happened on my less than exciting yester eve.

I walked out of the office after dark with a FedEx package that needed to get shipped ASAP. But lo and behold, right outside of my building, there was some sort of religious lighting ritual for a giant ceremonial tree. It was cold, so I lost feeling in my extremities and because of the commotion and the enormous crowds, I was unable to move for over one minute and forty five seconds, (though it felt like two minutes and twelve seconds.) The haggard bearded hippy next to me looked like he was standing there for far longer, especially when I peered over and saw him nibbling on my hand. After I managed enough space to escape from the cannibal, I just booked it. Old people, children, the disabled, you name it, I was pushing them out of my way. I was like a real live action hero. At one point I knocked over an entire family like bowling pins.
Maybe, you're sitting there judging me for my actions, but if you have ever had to fight through a mob of families, played one of those shoot'em up videogames, or been to Fairway in NYC, you would have been right there with me, laughing at all the people I knocked over, and mocking their feebleness while trying to take their fish sandwiches. (Note: Tourists on the floor will not easily give up their fish sandwiches, even if you give them a hand to pretend to help them up. Maybe they didn't use my hand because of the nibble marks and the blood. Tsk. Typical.) Meanwhile, I still had to deliver the package, but by the time I got to my secondary FedEx location (because the crowds prevented me from getting to the primary location), the place was closed. So I called up FedEx, (a quality organization, so please don't sue me,) and for 15 minutes, they send me to three additional sites in one direction and then another and then another, and I found myself wondering: with their sense of direction, how does anything get anywhere on time? Finally, after 20 additional minutes of walking, I found a suitable drop-point and delivered the good. Of course, FedEx shipped the package on time because it is an awesome efficient company and it's magic. I then proceeded to go home, watch my PTI (to boost my manliness), proceeded to Pushing Daisies (a fantastic, genre-bending show and deserving of its own series of blogs), and then Gossip Girl, (Serena played an excellent drunk), and followed it up with the film Rescue Dawn, which was solid, but only because of another stellar Bale performance. Then, I went right to bed to watch some TV before going to sleep.



In case you're wondering, the truth was in there, it was just surrounded by imagination. I don't even eat fish.



Notes:

1) I don't care how much you dislike Bees or how much you like "Curb", Jerry Seinfeld WAS Seinfeld.

1a) Don't ever do karaoke to the song "Potato, Potato... Tomato, Tomato."

2)



I'll be non-grata for the next few days because of a trip I'm taking to that Florida destination, but no we are not getting a convertible; we are getting the next best thing, an SUV. Wish me luck at the Loser Bowl.



God bless all of you and happy holidays,
Your trusty life coach,
ME, The Papa Bear



Sponsored by FedEx (just kidding... unless they pay me.)