First thing’s first. Never bring up the whole tub of Trader Joe’s Dress Circle Crispy Crunchy Chocolate Chip Cookies to your office unless you’ve reached the point in your life where you just want to see how big you can actually get before the Guinness Book of World Records people show up to document just exactly how big that is and their photographer has to run back out to the car when he realizes he’s going to need his wide angle lens.
I just threw what was left of the container out of the second floor window, so I guess that’s a sign I’m not quite ready to throw in the towel yet. As you can see from the photo, the cookies are just about the size of quarters and most people don’t know this, and I don’t know how they get away with it, but they are made with some sort of narcotic ingredient that causes anyone within two feet to slip into a somnolent state with their jaws kind of slack and open and somehow, and I swear to you this is true, those things fly out of that container unassisted and into your mouth at the same rate as little drips of wax spilling off of a lit candle turned sideways.
I can’t believe the FDA or whoever it was that replaced that guy who looked like the Gorton Fisherman, what was his name? The guy that ran the Surgeon General department. Never mind I got it, C. Everert Koop. Had to Google it because I couldn’t remember. I’ll tell you this much, if the memory really is the first thing to go, I better write down the name of whatever the second thing is because I got to be mighty close to Stage II.
It’s too bad we couldn’t get Google to index everything in our brains the same way they index everything thing else they can get their mitts on so we could just search for all the stuff we used to remember. Like the names of our kids.
Someone should crack down on Trader Joe’s and those cookies. I might just give the Surgeon General a call on Monday as long as they don’t try to hit me with a $25 co-pay or I get tagged as some sort of anti-government anti-big business whistleblower and end up in jail on trumped up charges like causing a riot at a Karaoke night by refusing to sing anything other than Pogues’s songs.
I’m so sorry,
Once again, I’ve imposed myself upon you by waiting until the very end to give you your one size fits’ all weekend horoscope. I swear next time I’ll give you the horoscope in the first paragraph and that way you can get back to doing something meaningful with your lives. That’s not to imply that I feel I’ve thrown my life away by writing thousands and thousands of words about topics that have nothing to do with your horoscopes. I’ve always felt I threw my life away the moment I told Bill Gates that I had no desire to “run out ” and get him a meatball parmesan sandwich and a can of Mountain Dew in exchange for a 5% stake in some loopy business he was starting in his parent’s garage.
According to my pals over at Yahoo Shine Horoscopes, the moon is in the third earth sign of the zodiac for the next two days! From what I understand that third earth sign is the Needles, Nevada of celestial pit stops and the moon is sure to be none to pleased about its accommodations until Monday and will most likely take it out on everyone and everything it encounters.
Do what you can to avoid the moon. If you’re out this weekend, try not to look up and whatever you do, don’t play any songs with “moon” in the title or in the lyrics, especially that Christopher Cross song from the movie, “Arthur”. In fact, as a general rule I find it best to refrain from playing any Christopher Cross songs although this has nothing to do with the balance of the universe. That said, I have several friends who will argue otherwise. Especially after they’ve had a couple.
On the romance front, this weekend looks promising for all of us already in relationships. But really don’t they all until something happens on Friday night and you end up staying in and watching TV by yourself while your partner calls it an early night based on something you did or didn’t say? I don’t know. That could just be me.
If you’re not in a relationship, this weekend presents a perfect opportunity to meet someone special since the planets, stars and asteroids are still getting their fantasy football rosters straightened out and don’t have time to complicate your lives the way they’d like to. Be sure to wear bright colors if you go out. I get tired, I mean the Universe gets tired of seeing all you single hipsters wearing black from head to toe. And none of those little fedora hats, either. It plays havoc with the energy field alliances between the second ring of Saturn and ah, Sputnick, I believe it is. Yes, that’s correct. Sputnik. So no hipster hats this weekend. Or next. In fact just to be safe, don’t wear any black clothing or little fedora hats until I rerun the charts and get back to you. Your safety, happiness and life balance is my only concern.
Finally, if anyone knows what I can do to reverse the effects of eating 247 cookies in a span of 15 minutes, please call my mother, and if you can’t get her, 911 is fine. I’m not sure I can get out of this chair without the room whirling around like Audrey Hepburn in one of those technicolor Fred Astaire dance movies.
Have a great weekend!
© 2013 The Monkey Bellhop and John Hartnett