Friday, January 28, 2011


11:03 AM Posted by Patrick 2 comments
I had visions for this morning, most of them included me sitting and drinking coffee in a comfy chair and collecting much needed adipose tissue. But, to paraphrase the good people at Despair, There is nothing the world likes so well as the taste of really sweet dreams.

At first the ungodly "waw waw waw" was either an alarm clock, or perhaps some variety of wounded poultry. I had no such luck. It was Janeane, who is infinitely harder to silence than an alarm clock, or--Iimagine--any specimen of wounded poultry.

After my ears adjusted enough to resolve the squawking into a message, I realized that she expected me to get up. Alright, it could be worse...a lot worse.

She started telling me something about our mission, a narrow and rapidly closing window of opportunity, of which we needed to take advantage. There was to be no time for showers or coffee. I grabbed the first three clothing items that came to hand, and also the first hat that was not a baseball cap.

Upon Janeane seeing me--you can guess what she looked like, and she was even the one who noticed it--she commented that I looked like an African dictator. We looked like we would be perfectly at home at a anti-military protest.

"Oh," says she, "you'll have to follow in the van" *wicked laughter joined by my own cackling* She then proceeded to try and open the garage door, which made some really pitiful noises and refused to go up. So we unhooked the garage door and pushed it up.

I get into the van never having driven an Oldsmobile Sans-Muffler, so I was in for a bit of a shock when it started with the sound of an enraged 2000lb bumblebee...or maybe just a small aircraft. I spent the drive to the interstate giggling at the sound and slowly losing my hearing.

Upon arrival at the dealership, I turn off the van before I collect a flock of sales people. Jeneane figures out where to take Sven, and comes over to the van right after. I warn her that what she is about to hear is life-changing, but she did not seem to take me seriously. When the van start with the roar of a thousand dragons with operatic aspirations, she immediately dissolved into laughter; she had underestimated its joyous power.

We then spent a large part of the ride back discussing how best it might be fitted with machine guns and modified to carry extra child-soldiers.

Add to this that I was punch drunk and lagged from getting no coffee, everything seemed funny.


  1. *dies laughing*

    You just need to paint "T O Y O T A" on the back of the van and you'll be good to go.

  2. Love it! You are just the best sport (although perhaps Janeane is right up there with you)!