September 8, 2008
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Saturday was my cousin’s 40th birthday party. I also had a card game that night as well. The party was in Minooka which is about a half hour south west of where I live. The card game was in Oswego/Montgomery (I can never remember which town) which is about a half hour west and slightly north of me. This means they were nowhere near each other. The party started at 2, the card game 6:30 in the pm which actually translates to just past 7. This was good because it meant that I would indeed be able to do both. Of course this also meant that I would have to leave the party early so I ensured that I would arrive right at 2. I got there about 2:07, which is close enough to 2. My cousin was throwing the party with her boyfriend and 2 of her friends, all of whom turned 40 this year. The party was at her friend’s house.
The party was on a farm………….ok, well maybe not a farm. Then again, when I think about it, it would certain explain the rather large backyard, the garage with the tractor and the crops being grown in a rather large field next to said garage. Ok, that’s it people, you have talked me into it, we will declare the place a farm even if it wasn’t a farm Well there is really only one way to settle this argument, isn’t there now. Dictionary.com defines a farm as:
1. a tract of land, usually with a house, barn, silo, etc., on which crops and often livestock are raised for livelihood. 2. land or water devoted to the raising of animals, fish, plants, etc.: a pig farm; an oyster farm; a tree farm. There were no animals here. Not even any pets, at least none that I could see. The crops next to the garage may or may not have been being tended to by the owner of the property. So let’s just refer to it as the property. Yes, that shall suffice. Anywho, it was a great place for a party. The property was large enough to not only have 2 sets of beanbags, some game call rodeo golf in which you throw 2 fake golf balls held together on a string onto some sort of plastic bar, a full sized volleyball court (not an actual court, but they had measured out an area on the grass big enough for volleyball) horseshoe pits, a big bouncy thing for the kids and later drunken adults, a large tent with table and chairs and a good sized patio. Also, there was a gravel driveway with a basketball hoop. All in all, it had the makings of a good time. Its just too damn bad I had to leave after 3 1/2 hours.
As for the card game, I’m glad I went. Although I did not win the first game, the 2nd game was a different story. I got down to heads up (we started with 10 people) against Scott. Now I had just played cards the night before (we had a mini guy’s night at Scooty’s. I didn’t do so well, but still had a great time) but was more than excited to play again. Anywho, Scott kept talking me chopping the pot but I just wanted no part of it. I was going to wait things out until one of us won, I would have none of this pussy bullshit in which we split the damn pot. First place got $120, second $60 so splitting it at $90 was only about a $30 difference. Still, I always like when things come to a full conclusion, also I had to make up for the money I lost in game one. Long story short, on the last hand Scott went all in before the flop. He had an 8 and a 5 and he was either sick of playing or thought that I wouldn’t call him, as I had yet to call any of his previous 10 all ins. I was just waiting for a halfway decent had to call him on. I had pocket 4s, which was not a good hand by any stretch of the imagination, however it was a pair and I had to call him sometime so that he would stop pushing me around to win the blinds. So, we saw a flop and lo and be hold, the first 2 cards on the flop were both 4s! With 4 of a kind, that was it, I had won. Yay me. Yay.
I’m tired today because I didn’t get much sleep last night. See, was up late thinking about something and honestly, I can’t believe it took me this long to think of this.I’m sure you all know the Who song “I Can See For Miles”. Well, they are a British band so shouldn’t it be “I Can See For Kilometers” instead of miles? Shit, how the fuck do they even know about miles? The song was written back in 1968 and who knows if the Who had even been to the United States by then. Ok, so I know that bands always cater and change things to accommodate Americans, it helps to explain why British singers have an accent when they talk but not when they sing. But America is one of the only countries that does not use the metric system. Actually, I just looked it up online, the only countries that would even know what the fuck that song means would be America, Liberia, and Myanmar. So pretty much, the Who said a big fuck you to the rest of the world when that song came out.
So I was up thinking about this. I tossed and turned first trying to cry myself to sleep because I was so distraught and upset that I had not thought of this yet in spite of the fact that I had first heard the song about 15 years ago. Then I was in a deep panic conflicted over why they didn’t use kilometers. I started to write my own version but didn’t know what the distance of a kilometer. I dunno, I’m guess its more than an inch yet less than a light year. So then I started to pace back and forth, back and forth damning Pete Townshend for confusing me. So I wrote him a death threat on toilet paper. I had to use toilet paper as it was the only thing I had left after spending nearly 10 GRUELING minutes trying to write new lyrics. The death threat demands that he purchase a time machine, go back to 1968 and rewrite the song or else I would be legally forced to pay Keith Richards the handsome sum of $4 American (or .000001 Euro, what can I say the dollar is worthless) to kill him and then tell everybody he snorted him. Next I started to sob uncontrollably as I could not find a word that rhymed with kilometer. What made things even worse was that they didn’t even rhyme the word miles in the song, which means I just wasted the previous 45 minutes. Death to Pete Townshend I say, death to Pete…………….errrrr, maybe death is a bit harsh. Maybe I can just settle for him to spill a third of a cup of luke warm coffee on his boxers. Yes, that should suffice. Come to think of it, this whole thing is a bit crazy. Some might even say stupid. That’s it, stupid and crazy.
Phew. I’m sure glad it didn’t happen.
