03 August 2013
693
R. Linda:
There are (in the summer in New England), lots of local fundraising foot races, and since I've been living here, I've never entered one. When the leg got broken (you remember THAT) the leg wasn't set properly or didn't heal properly, anyway, that has kept me from entering any of these races that I wouldn't do more damage. I've gone to a couple to be supportive and enjoyed the day thinking I'd never be entered into one. Little did I know.
Yesterday evening, I got a phone call informing me that my entry into the Walker Race was complete and the phone call was just a formality to let me know they were expecting me at such and such a time, at such and such a place. Now I was bloody confused by this I was. I did NOT enter any race of any kind, so when I started asking questions, the person on the other end said, "I heard you were a kidder (laughter here) and not at all afraid to make fun of your disability, so we'll see you bright and early."
Hum, kidder, walker, disability? WHAT DISABILITY? What be this about? I even questioned the wife who has succumbed to pregnant miseries of feeling sorry for herself and complaining if "one more day goes by, I will explode!" So, getting no help there I sat me down and went through my calendar trying to see if I had mistakenly signed up for a race somewhere I never heard of before. As I was halfway down my event page, my mobile rang, and the voice on the other end was enough to stop me from looking. Yes, it was the young whippersnapper! I should have known, every time I thought I had lost me mind, I be saved by the fact the young whippersnapper was responsible. Oi!
"Sos Gabbie, I gotz dis walker sos ya can swoosh push in da racie." He said in typical Weasilese.
"Swoosh push? A walker? Why do I need a walker?" I foolishly asked.
"Cus a da bum leggy. So's I put it together and yer all set to racie!"
"Oh that's so lovely of you," I said sarcastically, "everyone else including yourself I suppose, will be skateboarding away and there will be I . . . with a walker."
"Nah ha! Yer da only one racin'."
Silence.
Finally, I bit again.
"Just me? A race of one, with a walker yet?"
"Yuppers. I will be timin' yer walker racin' arse and if yer comes in under 10 hours ya win!"
More silence.
"This be a joke roight?"
"Nah."
SILENCE BIG TIME.
This time he broke the silence.
"Itz a pedestrian race wit walkers," said he breaking the silence before the chill set in.
"Roight," I mumbled. "Wot is wrong wit you?" I shouted.
"Prolly one of me extreme schizophrenic personalities havin' an episodie."
"Uh-huh. At me expensed." Said I.
"Sos I'll pick yer arse up at 4 a.m. sos be reddie."
"Wait, wait, 4 a.m.? I don't function at 4 a.m. I don't even get up for work at 4 a.m.," I said not liking where this was going, "especially on a weekend!"
"We gotz ta take da train ta Maine fer da racie." That was the explanation.
"Maine? The State of Maine? Where in Maine?" I shouted completely forgetting I should NOT be having the conversation, a NO would have sufficed, but for some godforsaken reason there I was a blithering idiot . . . engaged!
"Up on da coastie a statie parkie where Cap'n Jaack be."
"Captain Jaack? OUR Captain Jaack? The Johnny Depp impersonator? The one that had me three sheets to the wind on his ship? The one that had me knocked out in Portsmouth on another ship? THAT CAPTAIN JAACK?"
"Yuppers da very one."
"NO. NO WAY. I told the both of you I'd never step into a room you were both in at the same time and I meant that."
"Gabbie it be fer a goodly cause." He said whining.
"What good cause?" I know I shouldn't have asked that because I always get an answer and I never like what it is.
"It be fer da fundin' of da home fer peg leg pirates."
LOTS OF SILENCE.
"Gabbie . . . " he whined, "it be da home where da winnah of da five-legged donkey lives."
"The what?"
"Da pirate went ta Mexico an saw da five-legged donkey. Yer dint hear bout dis?"
I shook me head and then realised I was on the phone so stupidly said, "No."
"Welly, he was waitin' fer a burrito when he turned around and saw the donkey. It was havin' an erection and the pirate was sorter drunk from Cap'n Jaack's rum."
"Captain Jaack again, I thought so."
"An Gabbie da pirate says to Cap'n Jaack 'wot iz dat?' and the Cap'n took a look and said it was a five-legged donkey. Then another donkey arrived and the pirate noticed it had only four legs. Sos he asked Cap'n Jaack why that donkey only had four legs and Cap'n Jaack said because it was a sad donkey, the one with five legs was a happy donkey and that's why."
I had dropped the phone and covered me face. TYPICAL that's all I can say. I was recalled from oblivion by Weasil's voice saying from a distance, "Ya dropped me!" I picked up the mobile and said I was near me breaking point that I couldn't take much more.
"Okie dokie den Gabbie, seez ya tomorra." And he hung up before I could shout NO!!!
I don't know what I will do. I don't want to go. This is once again an exercise in stupidity, compliments the Weasil. Utterly ridiculous! All of it. I won't go, no I won't get up. I told the wife all this and she said, "IF you think I want to listen to Weasil honking his horn and banging on the door, or worse, sliding through a window and standing at the foot of our bed, just to come get YOU, you are a dead man."
So I had to weigh death vs. walker racing and having me mind blown to small pieces by two of the most heinous cohorts of criminal mischief alive. UGH! You know which one I chose don't ya?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
There are (in the summer in New England), lots of local fundraising foot races, and since I've been living here, I've never entered one. When the leg got broken (you remember THAT) the leg wasn't set properly or didn't heal properly, anyway, that has kept me from entering any of these races that I wouldn't do more damage. I've gone to a couple to be supportive and enjoyed the day thinking I'd never be entered into one. Little did I know.
Yesterday evening, I got a phone call informing me that my entry into the Walker Race was complete and the phone call was just a formality to let me know they were expecting me at such and such a time, at such and such a place. Now I was bloody confused by this I was. I did NOT enter any race of any kind, so when I started asking questions, the person on the other end said, "I heard you were a kidder (laughter here) and not at all afraid to make fun of your disability, so we'll see you bright and early."
Hum, kidder, walker, disability? WHAT DISABILITY? What be this about? I even questioned the wife who has succumbed to pregnant miseries of feeling sorry for herself and complaining if "one more day goes by, I will explode!" So, getting no help there I sat me down and went through my calendar trying to see if I had mistakenly signed up for a race somewhere I never heard of before. As I was halfway down my event page, my mobile rang, and the voice on the other end was enough to stop me from looking. Yes, it was the young whippersnapper! I should have known, every time I thought I had lost me mind, I be saved by the fact the young whippersnapper was responsible. Oi!
"Sos Gabbie, I gotz dis walker sos ya can swoosh push in da racie." He said in typical Weasilese.
"Swoosh push? A walker? Why do I need a walker?" I foolishly asked.
"Cus a da bum leggy. So's I put it together and yer all set to racie!"
"Oh that's so lovely of you," I said sarcastically, "everyone else including yourself I suppose, will be skateboarding away and there will be I . . . with a walker."
"Nah ha! Yer da only one racin'."
Silence.
Finally, I bit again.
"Just me? A race of one, with a walker yet?"
"Yuppers. I will be timin' yer walker racin' arse and if yer comes in under 10 hours ya win!"
More silence.
"This be a joke roight?"
"Nah."
SILENCE BIG TIME.
This time he broke the silence.
"Itz a pedestrian race wit walkers," said he breaking the silence before the chill set in.
"Roight," I mumbled. "Wot is wrong wit you?" I shouted.
"Prolly one of me extreme schizophrenic personalities havin' an episodie."
"Uh-huh. At me expensed." Said I.
"Sos I'll pick yer arse up at 4 a.m. sos be reddie."
"Wait, wait, 4 a.m.? I don't function at 4 a.m. I don't even get up for work at 4 a.m.," I said not liking where this was going, "especially on a weekend!"
"We gotz ta take da train ta Maine fer da racie." That was the explanation.
"Maine? The State of Maine? Where in Maine?" I shouted completely forgetting I should NOT be having the conversation, a NO would have sufficed, but for some godforsaken reason there I was a blithering idiot . . . engaged!
"Up on da coastie a statie parkie where Cap'n Jaack be."
"Captain Jaack? OUR Captain Jaack? The Johnny Depp impersonator? The one that had me three sheets to the wind on his ship? The one that had me knocked out in Portsmouth on another ship? THAT CAPTAIN JAACK?"
"Yuppers da very one."
"NO. NO WAY. I told the both of you I'd never step into a room you were both in at the same time and I meant that."
"Gabbie it be fer a goodly cause." He said whining.
"What good cause?" I know I shouldn't have asked that because I always get an answer and I never like what it is.
"It be fer da fundin' of da home fer peg leg pirates."
LOTS OF SILENCE.
"Gabbie . . . " he whined, "it be da home where da winnah of da five-legged donkey lives."
"The what?"
"Da pirate went ta Mexico an saw da five-legged donkey. Yer dint hear bout dis?"
I shook me head and then realised I was on the phone so stupidly said, "No."
"Welly, he was waitin' fer a burrito when he turned around and saw the donkey. It was havin' an erection and the pirate was sorter drunk from Cap'n Jaack's rum."
"Captain Jaack again, I thought so."
"An Gabbie da pirate says to Cap'n Jaack 'wot iz dat?' and the Cap'n took a look and said it was a five-legged donkey. Then another donkey arrived and the pirate noticed it had only four legs. Sos he asked Cap'n Jaack why that donkey only had four legs and Cap'n Jaack said because it was a sad donkey, the one with five legs was a happy donkey and that's why."
I had dropped the phone and covered me face. TYPICAL that's all I can say. I was recalled from oblivion by Weasil's voice saying from a distance, "Ya dropped me!" I picked up the mobile and said I was near me breaking point that I couldn't take much more.
"Okie dokie den Gabbie, seez ya tomorra." And he hung up before I could shout NO!!!
I don't know what I will do. I don't want to go. This is once again an exercise in stupidity, compliments the Weasil. Utterly ridiculous! All of it. I won't go, no I won't get up. I told the wife all this and she said, "IF you think I want to listen to Weasil honking his horn and banging on the door, or worse, sliding through a window and standing at the foot of our bed, just to come get YOU, you are a dead man."
So I had to weigh death vs. walker racing and having me mind blown to small pieces by two of the most heinous cohorts of criminal mischief alive. UGH! You know which one I chose don't ya?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
