2005-04-22 - 3:14 p.m.
That son-of-a-bitch-rat-bastard bastard wombat has pissed me off…again.
I know. I know. His entry was a friendly, funny poke and observation at some of the unwritten rules of being a guy.
Come on, I’m not that stupid.
And we all know Wombat’s a cool guy. So He really isn't a son-of-a-bitch-rat-bastard. But still, it's fun to say.
Anyhow, it got me thinking….I’ve learned a few things over the 41 years I’ve been here. And things like “The Rules” that people are always trying to define and come up with really piss me off. They annoy me.
These so called rules are the Brussels sprouts on this great dinner plate that I like to call “life”. And when you are not looking I will slyly stuff them under the mashed potatoes of reality and smother them in the irreverent gravy of authenticity. Quickly followed by a large gulp from the giant glass of milk we all know as spontaneity. Please pass the pie. Damn it.
And please don’t’ shoot me for the metaphor either.However it does sound better if you read it in "The Ticks voice. (remember "The Tick"?)
The rules are an annoying set of observations that clueless, frustrated people put together in an attempt to try to define and apply logic to the drift that has become their life. Maybe some believe that if they follow the rules, success and fulfillment are sure to follow.
I doubt it.
You’ll just have a bunch of people doing the same things. And unless you are trying to sell them something, or march them off to war, that really isn’t my idea of success.
Fuck the rules. When I go out with my friends, I share food, I drink what ever I want, I’m real, I’m authentic, I’m honest.
I tried playing by the rules and found they are pretty stupid.
I’m sorry, but it’s true.
Fuck the rules.
I hug my buddies warmly in public.
And despite Wombat’s advice, I’ve now started having conversations at urinals with strangers.
I don’t give a shit. Let them come and take me away.
Yay me. I’m a fucking rebel.
Look for my obituary stating how I was knifed in a barroom’s bathroom stall next week.
But until then, I’ll wear my funny shirts. I’ll ask the dumb questions. I’ll dance till I fall.
A confused friend of mine once told me that if you meet Buda on the road, you should kill him.
Hmmmmm.
What the hell that means, I’m not sure, but killing Buda has got to be against someone’s rules, so I’m all for it.
Ok…If you followed this rambling stream of consciousness this far, I’ll come right down to it….
The EKG scared the shit out of me.
Yesterday while what was supposed to have been a somewhat routine physical, the doctor ordered and EKG. She didn’t like the sound or looks or something. I honestly don’t know. It happened very fast.
Quicker than you could say “Double Bourbon, on the rocks, no lime” several people rushed into the room with extremely concerned looks on their faces and starting hooking me onto an EKG doo hickey.
I laid there on the table somewhat concerned. They don’t give EKG’s to young healthy mucho studly guys. Why the hell are they doing this?
There was a blistering of concerned voices over at the machine as they watched the lines scribble out onto the sheet.
Christ. That can’t be good. I thought.
“Relax” The non English speaking techs tried to tell me.
I laid there on the table thinking what if there is something wrong? They’ll admit me. I won’t be at the pub tonight with my friends. What about going to work? I need to call my wife. This can’t be what it appears. I need to mow the lawn. Christ, I need to get out of here; I’m parked in short term parking….
I…I….I…..
Beeeeeeeeep.
And more people rushed in.
Jesus Christ almighty. What the hell is going on?
For several minutes my mind entertained the distinct possibility that it wasn’t going to be a banner day for me…..
To say the least, it was an unsettling few moments. I won’t go into the details of everything, but all in all after several very scary minutes of not knowing what was going on. Everything is cool. I’m here. I’m typing away. No problem. Minor hiccup. Take these pills. See me next week……
I’m fine.
But the whole thing did get me thinking.
So, have fun this weekend and for Wombats sake, break a few rules.
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