Just a few quick things.
I was out at the Green Mesquite BBQ, original Austin BBQ for a hundred years or so, eating dinner with some friends. The outside patio is a patio with a number of green picnic tables with benches, classic style, so this is where we needed to eat. It was a dark and windy night, with a live band playing, so try to image it being pretty noisy. I was seated on an end, with a girl I wasn’t interested in next to me, and an engaged girl next to her. Obviously I wasn’t going to be ruining my chances at anything, so I was fairly relaxed. I needed to fart. Glancing around, I realized the wind would quickly carry any evidence from me, and all of the noise would mask any inappropriate sounds, so I let rip.
It’s funny, at that point, I wasn’t even paying attention, I mean, what could possibly happen? The girls next to me were twisting around and making some noise, which is what got my attention initially. They were digging through their purses, trying to figure out whose phone was ringing. Apparently, while they hadn’t “heard” a ring, they’d felt a vibration through the picnic bench, a vibration whose source shall forever remain a mystery. Neither of their phones had a missed call, so they asked me if my phone had rung.
I distractedly pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at it, mumbling something non-committal, until they appeared satisfied. Girls.
A while ago I passed a dead armadillo on the road. I’ve heard they they die on the road because, while they are too short to be hit by a car, when they get scared they jump, placing them at a high enough elevation to come into contact with a quickly moving car bumper. I don’t know if it’s true, but I like repeating it. A week later I was riding with someone, and we saw a live armadillo scuttle off the road in front of us. These two events excited me quite a bit as it’d been a number of years since I’d last seen one, dead or alive, and it appears that their population is making a something of a comeback. Two armadillos is statistically significant enough to me to make this assumption.
In one of the University of Texas museums, they have an armadillo dinosaur fossil about three feet high. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have one of those wandering around in the streets. It’s possible these giant monstrosities could one day be bred back into existence, a wandering armored army with claws and a cute demeanor. Combine this with the fact that armadillos are one of the few non-human animals that can carry leprosy (this is just one of the reasons why those that value their skin and fingers do not cuddle armadillos), and I could see a serious world domination in the works. Titillating. Is it any wonder they are the official state mammal of Texas?
Meh, it probably has something to do with having similar drinking habits. To quote Bernard, “Only and armadillo could get hit by a truck and still look cute.”
This paragraph will interest absolutely no one that reads it as it’s existence is merely a matter of completeness. A week ago I was driving home from the gym (where one would exercise, a word that took four attempts to spell correctly). I passed one of those large, super bright LED signs advertising something, and the bottom right quarter was off. A few blocks later I passed an even larger super bright LED sign whose bottom right quarter was also not working. I’d never seen either broken, and a few days later they were both working. I’ve come to suspect an LED repairman scam where some simple method is used to “break” the bottom right quarter of a sign, and then a repair service offered for some exorbitant rate.
Please be on the lookout for the scoundrels and report them immediately to your local authorities. I believe they can be identified by contracted pupils and large rolls of money stuffed in their pockets.