Therefore, I am going to do as I always do and follow the words of Led Zeppelin and I'm going to "ramble on" about whatever comes to mind. It doesn't always end well like the time I bought a stairway to Heaven but it turned out to be a "Little Giant" ladder (although the "Little Giant" has come in handy when I have to put up Anita's gigantic Christmas Trees and wreath).
What's the deal with the very questionable fashion of wearing pants/jeans BB (Below Butt)? Do we know who came up with this idiotic trend that has lasted for ages now? They should be beaten. It has gotten so bad that there is an older guy at the office that has a big gut and kind of resembles the "Jigsaw' dude from the 39 "Saw" movies. He wears his pants BB. My jeans tend to fall BB because the scientific name for my butt would be called Gluteus Minimus. Anita often calls me the "buttless wonder" and advocates "butt implants". The other day, I was drinking a beer in my front yard with my neighbors. I happened to have a wine opener/bottle opener in one of the pockets of my gym shorts and my cell in the other pocket. Two of my female neighbors were chatting across the street. I secretly was afraid that my gym shorts were going to fall down due to the weight of the items in my pockets as well as the lack of a "butt shelf" to help keep the shorts up. Luckily that didn't happen, but I was sure to bend my knees cautiously so as to not give the ladies a world premiere of the latest in the "Twilight" series: "Full Moon". Yes, you heard it right. My neighbors and I often drink beers in our front yards or driveways much like they did in the TV Show "King of the Hill".
My friend was over a few weeks ago and I was grilling in my driveway (can't afford a deck or patio because the advertisers don't pay bloggers with only 10 people reading it regularly). We had just spent about 5 hours at the local winery. This friend happens to be one of the many people who are "Suburb Haters". They are all smug even though almost all of them don't actually live in the city but in a nearby suburb. I doubt they have wineries down the street from their house though ... bitches! Anyway, we were standing outside with beers in hand and one of my neighbors came by with a couple of beers for us. A few moments later, another neighbor came by with beers. I should pay those guys because it made it look like I was the "Don" of the neighborhood and they were paying homage to me. Obviously, that is not true, I mean look at me, remember that I am just a regular guy who happens to resemble a goateed Bosc Pear. Now all of this was after I took my friend to Wegman's and we had a beer at the seafood bar. I think he went home that night with a better appreciation of what the suburbs has to offer. Although he will never admit it.
Do you ever wear disposable contacts way longer than you're supposed to? Well, I do and it has worked out. What's weird is that recently, I actually started changing them more often. For some reason, though, my right contact was bugging me when I was driving in the rain so I started rubbing my eye. Somehow, I managed to make the contact vanish while I was driving. So I had one blurry eye and one good eye. I was blessed with some nice hair, but I think God evened things out by giving me the day vision of a bat and some Wheezy Jefferson lungs. I made it to my destination and was able to replace the lens with a backup lens that I had brought just in case (I keep like 6,000 things in my pocket). That same day I was at the Giant in Gainesville and Stevie Wonder's "Part Time Lover" was playing. I involuntarily started whistling. I think when Stevie Wonder songs are playing you automatically either sing it, or hum it or whistle it. My point was proven when I heard this middle aged white dude humming the song as we crossed paths.
I probably need to grow up also because sometimes I giggle out loud (GOL) when I type my last name really fast and I accidentally type "Vetitckal". All right, on that note I am done rambling ... for now.