13 November 2012
605
R. Linda:
I knew it wouldn't last. I knew sooner or later the Weasil would appear. Either at my work, on me doorstep, or just flat-out terrifying me at someplace unexpected. I just got done telling two blog members (both women) that me wife wouldn't take kindly to me meeting them. I said she is suspicious of what she calls me "fan club" and even though she knows yours truly wouldn't DARE stray, she isn't inclined for me to "meet and greet" me female "fans."
I made the mistake of asking her if one of them should arrive in Bean Town, would she like to meet that person or persons for a drink. "No! Why would I? I have been subject to Weasil! I think that says it all."
"But Weasil is male, and he's a lunatic, these people aren't," I explained.
"How do YOU know? And besides, what's the point? Who cares, your stories are what they like, they might not like YOU. You need to keep the facade that you are Mr. Nice Guy going."
OH OUCH! FACADE?
"Yeah, you are to me kinda a Ben Affleck type big guy, and I am not sharing MY Ben Affleck with anyone, especially people . . . let me clarify . . . FEMALE people I don't know." She said this I think, to make what she said prior not seem so harsh, like sparing me delicate feelings. Gees!
"Well, okay then," I said looking in the mirror for any resemblance to Ben Affleck. Hum . . . maybe the chin?
I have been compared to Ben Affleck but once, and I can't remember who said I reminded them of Ben. For some strange reason, I think it was Weasil! OMG, that's just sick.
This was Saturday we had that conversation and Sunday found me feeling kind of good about being compared to Ben Affleck. Then it all went down the drain. And why? Well, here this is why, I got up to get the Sunday newspaper after I had made a pot of joe, and what, I mean who was sitting on me doorstep reading the morning paper? Yup the young blond scamp himself, Mr. Weasil.
After the horror and shock wore off (that he was BACK) I reluctantly invited him in, but first I grabbed back my newspaper.
"How long have you been out there?" I asked as he passed me by to help himself to me fresh pot of joe.
"Long enough to know ya snore."
"SO what brings you into me neck of the woods?" I asked reluctantly.
"A visit be overdue so here I amie."
"Amie? Oh, I get it, Weasilese for 'I am'. Right." I said sitting down resigned that he was actually in my kitchen rifling through my fridge and taking out bacon, eggs, and butter to make us breakfast, which was not a bad thing, but still.
"You still self-employed?" I asked sarcastically since the man did NOTHING.
"Uh yup, I am. But," he said a finger in the air for me undivided attention, "I iz finding sexual harassment at work a problemo for me, being I iz self-employed."
No, I didn't just hear that. It was too freaking early to be hearing stuff like that. I hadn't but two sips of my morning coffee and here I was in Wonderland.
"You have NO job," I muttered taking another sip.
"In dat casie, if crime dunt pay, does dat mean my job iz a crime?"
I sat there saying nothing, the cup halfway to my lips. I was jolted back to reality when he asked me where me egg beater was, the one that ran on batteries. I indicated the wall to his left, but when he went to use it, well the batteries were dead. I lurched around trying to locate some fresh ones as he held the egg beater up and said, "Wot do batteries run on anywayz?"
OK, that did it I slid the package of batteries towards him and drained me entire cup of coffee. I had to wake up.
Batteries inserted he started whipping those eggs and yelling over the sound to me THIS gem, "What do you think chickens think we taste like?"
"WHAT? You are crazy."
I guess all the loud talk awoke the rest of the house because three people I recognised came shuffling in asking what all the shouting was about and was breakfast ready. But one of them stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Weasil in her kitchen. She rubbed her eyes like she couldn't believe it, but he was there, oh yes he was. And he knew she was not happy for him to see her without make-up, and her hair sticking out like she had electric shock treatment. He dumped the egg mixture in the frying pan and with lightning-fast speed poured her a mug of coffee and sat her down, making cooing sounds that he'd have her omelette ready in a jiffy. What a brown-noser he is.
"You haven't been drinking out of the pot again have you?" She asked with a sour look on her face.
"Nopey not yet." He grinned whipping together a cheese omelette.
I will say the lad can whip up a mean omelette. He was teasing the boyos that the ladybug that was pestering all of us by landing on the table was a protein and if they wanted to try a ladybug omelette he'd be happy to do the deed and cook her up. Of course, this got giggles out of them and the noise level rose. Oi!
"O'Hare," Weasil asked looking all serious, "wot do ya call a male ladybug?"
"Mistah Lady Bug," the eldest shouted falling off the chair in laughter at his own joke. I swear he's Weasil's kid and not mine.
"Thatz rite!" Weasil grinned.
I tell ya! It was too early for me to be subject to the Weasil right in me own abode!
"So Weasil," said the almost fully awake Tonya, "I guess you're staying a few days as usual?"
"Do pilots take crash courses?"
"That's a yes," I said, as she looked at him like he was what he was, nuts.
I made the mistake of telling Weasil what Tonya said about me being a Ben Affleck type and then asked him if he wasn't the one who told me that too.
"I did," he said brightly, "but I dint say BEN Affleck I said da duck in da AFLAC commercials."
Can you hear me ego deflate? Sissssssssssssssss FLAT! That just destroyed my day, he went on to say how my big feet were as big as the AFLAC ducks and how I walked like a duck and on he went all happy about flattening my ego to a pancake. I tell ya!
The entire day I tried me best not to think about me sorry ego, but it wasn't easy because every time I'd walk passed or come in the vicinity of Weasil, he'd start using his Gilbert Gottfried voice and quack AFLAC at me. My kiddos thought this was great fun and they started doing the same thing!
Later that night, the entire house was in the lounge looking at the Amazing Race, a programme Weasil got us addicted to some years ago. So during one of the commercials, the announcer said they were looking for contestants for next season, and if you were interested go online and look over the rules and regs and send your application in.
Next thing I know there is Weas, on his mobile phone clicking away.
"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously.
"I iz fillin' out da formie an enterin' Wolfie and meself as contestants fer next season," he said not missing a beat. "He might as well have da theme song fer real," he said meaning Wolfie.
An aside here, because Wolfie's job took him all over the world and to many of the places seen on the telly programme, Weasil had set up (on my computer without me knowing) a computer programme of his own making, that anytime I clicked on Wolfie's name to send an email, me screen would flash off and there would be a huge picture of a smiling Wolfie with the Amazing Race theme song playing and then these words would come dancing in on the bottom asking, "Where in the third world is Wolfie Santiago?" I tell ya, Wolfie wasn't the only one that got this treatment on me machine. If I went to carbon copy a letter to meself, the same thing would happen, but the picture was of me dressed in tights with a paper sword and hat, with the theme song from Captain Pugwash, and the sentence "Time flies when ye are havin' rum," floating across the bottom of the screen. This is also why Captain Jaack refers to me as Horatio. Oi! But it wasn't just Wolfie and me, it was EVERYBODY. The rascal had substituted his mock-up pics with music and a stupid saying every time I clicked on Write Mail. No one was immune, but I digress.
"I don't think he'll like that much," I commented shaking my head.
"He won't know unlessie yer tells em' but by den it will be too late." And he laughed.
I don't want to know, but in case Wolfie should read this, he'll be informed he may be a contestant on the Amazing Race . . . with Weasil as his partner ::::cough:::: actually HACK!
That got me thinking about how long it would take for Wolfie to put an end to Weasil. I'd give it just before Phil Keoghan counted to three, but maybe he wouldn't cut the Weasil's dream of winning a million dollars to bed quite that soon, I bet he'd toy with him. Though, when you think about it why would either of them need a million dollars, especially Weasil? I think he'd enter the race for two reasons, 1. to become the most annoying player the Amazing Race has ever had, and 2. just to make the Wolf lose it on national television (not an easy feat), but possible.
This must have stayed in the back of me mind the entire night because that night I had a dream about it.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I knew it wouldn't last. I knew sooner or later the Weasil would appear. Either at my work, on me doorstep, or just flat-out terrifying me at someplace unexpected. I just got done telling two blog members (both women) that me wife wouldn't take kindly to me meeting them. I said she is suspicious of what she calls me "fan club" and even though she knows yours truly wouldn't DARE stray, she isn't inclined for me to "meet and greet" me female "fans."
I made the mistake of asking her if one of them should arrive in Bean Town, would she like to meet that person or persons for a drink. "No! Why would I? I have been subject to Weasil! I think that says it all."
"But Weasil is male, and he's a lunatic, these people aren't," I explained.
"How do YOU know? And besides, what's the point? Who cares, your stories are what they like, they might not like YOU. You need to keep the facade that you are Mr. Nice Guy going."
OH OUCH! FACADE?
"Yeah, you are to me kinda a Ben Affleck type big guy, and I am not sharing MY Ben Affleck with anyone, especially people . . . let me clarify . . . FEMALE people I don't know." She said this I think, to make what she said prior not seem so harsh, like sparing me delicate feelings. Gees!
"Well, okay then," I said looking in the mirror for any resemblance to Ben Affleck. Hum . . . maybe the chin?
I have been compared to Ben Affleck but once, and I can't remember who said I reminded them of Ben. For some strange reason, I think it was Weasil! OMG, that's just sick.
This was Saturday we had that conversation and Sunday found me feeling kind of good about being compared to Ben Affleck. Then it all went down the drain. And why? Well, here this is why, I got up to get the Sunday newspaper after I had made a pot of joe, and what, I mean who was sitting on me doorstep reading the morning paper? Yup the young blond scamp himself, Mr. Weasil.
After the horror and shock wore off (that he was BACK) I reluctantly invited him in, but first I grabbed back my newspaper.
"How long have you been out there?" I asked as he passed me by to help himself to me fresh pot of joe.
"Long enough to know ya snore."
"SO what brings you into me neck of the woods?" I asked reluctantly.
"A visit be overdue so here I amie."
"Amie? Oh, I get it, Weasilese for 'I am'. Right." I said sitting down resigned that he was actually in my kitchen rifling through my fridge and taking out bacon, eggs, and butter to make us breakfast, which was not a bad thing, but still.
"You still self-employed?" I asked sarcastically since the man did NOTHING.
"Uh yup, I am. But," he said a finger in the air for me undivided attention, "I iz finding sexual harassment at work a problemo for me, being I iz self-employed."
No, I didn't just hear that. It was too freaking early to be hearing stuff like that. I hadn't but two sips of my morning coffee and here I was in Wonderland.
"You have NO job," I muttered taking another sip.
"In dat casie, if crime dunt pay, does dat mean my job iz a crime?"
I sat there saying nothing, the cup halfway to my lips. I was jolted back to reality when he asked me where me egg beater was, the one that ran on batteries. I indicated the wall to his left, but when he went to use it, well the batteries were dead. I lurched around trying to locate some fresh ones as he held the egg beater up and said, "Wot do batteries run on anywayz?"
OK, that did it I slid the package of batteries towards him and drained me entire cup of coffee. I had to wake up.
Batteries inserted he started whipping those eggs and yelling over the sound to me THIS gem, "What do you think chickens think we taste like?"
"WHAT? You are crazy."
I guess all the loud talk awoke the rest of the house because three people I recognised came shuffling in asking what all the shouting was about and was breakfast ready. But one of them stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Weasil in her kitchen. She rubbed her eyes like she couldn't believe it, but he was there, oh yes he was. And he knew she was not happy for him to see her without make-up, and her hair sticking out like she had electric shock treatment. He dumped the egg mixture in the frying pan and with lightning-fast speed poured her a mug of coffee and sat her down, making cooing sounds that he'd have her omelette ready in a jiffy. What a brown-noser he is.
"You haven't been drinking out of the pot again have you?" She asked with a sour look on her face.
"Nopey not yet." He grinned whipping together a cheese omelette.
I will say the lad can whip up a mean omelette. He was teasing the boyos that the ladybug that was pestering all of us by landing on the table was a protein and if they wanted to try a ladybug omelette he'd be happy to do the deed and cook her up. Of course, this got giggles out of them and the noise level rose. Oi!
"O'Hare," Weasil asked looking all serious, "wot do ya call a male ladybug?"
"Mistah Lady Bug," the eldest shouted falling off the chair in laughter at his own joke. I swear he's Weasil's kid and not mine.
"Thatz rite!" Weasil grinned.
I tell ya! It was too early for me to be subject to the Weasil right in me own abode!
"So Weasil," said the almost fully awake Tonya, "I guess you're staying a few days as usual?"
"Do pilots take crash courses?"
"That's a yes," I said, as she looked at him like he was what he was, nuts.
I made the mistake of telling Weasil what Tonya said about me being a Ben Affleck type and then asked him if he wasn't the one who told me that too.
"I did," he said brightly, "but I dint say BEN Affleck I said da duck in da AFLAC commercials."
Can you hear me ego deflate? Sissssssssssssssss FLAT! That just destroyed my day, he went on to say how my big feet were as big as the AFLAC ducks and how I walked like a duck and on he went all happy about flattening my ego to a pancake. I tell ya!
The entire day I tried me best not to think about me sorry ego, but it wasn't easy because every time I'd walk passed or come in the vicinity of Weasil, he'd start using his Gilbert Gottfried voice and quack AFLAC at me. My kiddos thought this was great fun and they started doing the same thing!
Later that night, the entire house was in the lounge looking at the Amazing Race, a programme Weasil got us addicted to some years ago. So during one of the commercials, the announcer said they were looking for contestants for next season, and if you were interested go online and look over the rules and regs and send your application in.
Next thing I know there is Weas, on his mobile phone clicking away.
"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously.
"I iz fillin' out da formie an enterin' Wolfie and meself as contestants fer next season," he said not missing a beat. "He might as well have da theme song fer real," he said meaning Wolfie.
An aside here, because Wolfie's job took him all over the world and to many of the places seen on the telly programme, Weasil had set up (on my computer without me knowing) a computer programme of his own making, that anytime I clicked on Wolfie's name to send an email, me screen would flash off and there would be a huge picture of a smiling Wolfie with the Amazing Race theme song playing and then these words would come dancing in on the bottom asking, "Where in the third world is Wolfie Santiago?" I tell ya, Wolfie wasn't the only one that got this treatment on me machine. If I went to carbon copy a letter to meself, the same thing would happen, but the picture was of me dressed in tights with a paper sword and hat, with the theme song from Captain Pugwash, and the sentence "Time flies when ye are havin' rum," floating across the bottom of the screen. This is also why Captain Jaack refers to me as Horatio. Oi! But it wasn't just Wolfie and me, it was EVERYBODY. The rascal had substituted his mock-up pics with music and a stupid saying every time I clicked on Write Mail. No one was immune, but I digress.
"I don't think he'll like that much," I commented shaking my head.
"He won't know unlessie yer tells em' but by den it will be too late." And he laughed.
I don't want to know, but in case Wolfie should read this, he'll be informed he may be a contestant on the Amazing Race . . . with Weasil as his partner ::::cough:::: actually HACK!
That got me thinking about how long it would take for Wolfie to put an end to Weasil. I'd give it just before Phil Keoghan counted to three, but maybe he wouldn't cut the Weasil's dream of winning a million dollars to bed quite that soon, I bet he'd toy with him. Though, when you think about it why would either of them need a million dollars, especially Weasil? I think he'd enter the race for two reasons, 1. to become the most annoying player the Amazing Race has ever had, and 2. just to make the Wolf lose it on national television (not an easy feat), but possible.
This must have stayed in the back of me mind the entire night because that night I had a dream about it.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
3 comments:
one of those would be me lol. if you change your mind i'll be in beantown week before xmas. and yes i'm a fan but i get where tonya is coming from and my nose is not out of joint - all a-ok.
Were you the tall man on the train to Scotland with Wolf and Weasil? Because I think I met you in a sense, we didn't speak but you were there I believe. Unless I have you mixed up with someone else?
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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