I walked into a 7-11 to buy a paper…”Yo, Mr. Weight Watcher, over here”… a rectangle of crusty, sugar-coated dough fried in pig fat was calling to me.
I checked the app on my phone…no calories listed just a blinking red light and a hysterical voice screaming, “run”.
So of course I bought it and dripped grease on my shirt while eating it in three bites. The Weight Watcher Mind Patrol tracked me down (the shirt stain?) and broke my “point” counter over my now enlarged butt.
I think I need another paper and maybe this time a cup of coffee to wash it down.
Things I’ve given up with the years…
- Late nights
- Hair gel…why bother
- Break dancing…yeah, right.
A lot of things can be faked but not the laugh that crinkles the eyes. Everything goes better with crinkles.
People in my profession are supposed to be wordsmiths, expert in the use of words. I’m more like a wordjones. I’m sometimes muddled and confused and tongue-tied…even in written form. Case in point…when I named one of my favorite eateries, I meant to say Thai Bistro…chef Umnaj Phutsangdee. Because I’m under pressure, I’ve probably wordjones(ed) this again.
(I can see Doni and Kelly, half way through the last paragraph, cringing, not crinkling, asking themselves…”what language is this?…will he make it to the end of the thought?”… I was a little worried myself)
I thought I saw Mlle. de Joie sitting at a corner table at the Thai Bistro, furiously taking notes, but the hood and sunglasses obscured most of her face. Note: If any restaurant owners recognize me and want to extend extra courtesies, I’ll gladly take what Mlle de Joie doesn’t want.
I even thought of sitting a sign prominently on my table…”good reviews for free food”…but someone suggested I consult an attorney first. Paying a lawyer kind of defeats the attempt at freebies.
These truths I hold to be self-evident: the only tattoo that looks good on a man is the one he got in the service. On the other hand, anything less than five on a woman can be sorta interesting. I get the sagging-at-60 argument (for both sexes) but saggy is not somehow better because it is tattoo-less.
How do you make a porcupine go away? One ambled into my yard…neighbor cat wanted to dust it up with the creature. Yelling, throwing rocks didn’t work. While you’re thinking about it, how do you make a raccoon go away? Ground squirrel? In the late evening the squirrel sits near his entrance, wind blowing through his fur, surveying the nice lawn I planted for him…so many tunnels to dig… so little time.
How pleased is “pleased as punch?” I was at least that pleased at growing my very first casaba melon. Always a miserable failure in the past, this year I bought expensive designer seeds, carefully planted and watered often…didn’t work…threw some seeds from a fresh melon in a shallow hole on a rocky hill and…I can’t eat them fast enough.
There’s some kind of valuable lesson here but eating so much melon has clouded my thought process…think I’ll go check out the squirrel’s new digs.
Doug Mudford is a lawyer and partner at Barr & Mudford, with an emphasis on serious personal injury. He may be reached at Barr & Mudford, 1824 Court St., Redding, 530.243.8008. Send questions for “That Lawyer Guy” to firstname.lastname@example.org.