Kung Fu Hachoo

Today at work I found this file that I wrote last year when I was first going to try making a blog. I couldn't figure out how to blog at the time, so I didn't post it. But now that I have a blog, I thought I'd throw it in here, because I thought it was kind of funny to read it again. Here it is:

I created this blog so I can post a comment on my nephew Mason’s blog. Mason and his parents are currently in Vietnam adopting a little baby girl named Lucy. All three of them have been keeping blogs to inform the rest of us back in the States of their progress. Today I read Mason’s blog and found out that he was a little scared of a man they found in their hotel room asleep. For several years now when I’ve gone to his house, he has karate chopped and kung fu kicked me until I’ve hobbled around like Phil Jackson. Aren’t I at all more scary that a passed out drunk? Sometimes I wish I wasn’t just a nice guy and that I could be mean and ferocious, like a wolverine or a hot girl who finds me hanging out on her lawn.

I’m the crazy uncle who sits quietly in the corner until dessert time so I can elbow my way through a crowd of children to be first in line for cake. I may, or may not, also be overly protective of my original action figure of Blue Tooth Tony from the Cosmic Sacred Death cartoon series of the late 1980’s. But I have no choice. If it is taken out of its original packaging it loses all of its value. Besides, I already have my Volcanic Zombie Flesh Eater costume picked out for the 23rd Annual Plutonian Action Figure and Cartoon Convention in Reno, Nevada, and if I don’t have my originally preserved copy of Blue Tooth Tony I won’t be able to impress Super Gazer Goth Girl. Last year I was standing in line for my free sample of Albuterol when she pushed through the line right in front of me. She smiled at me and touched my arm. It was magical. I really think it is meant to be. That smile pulled me in just like the Death Star’s tractor beam when it pulled in the Millennium Falcon in Star Wars Episode 4. Those white teeth shone through the black lipstick like sunlight through rain clouds. Zultan!

Ok, none of that is true; accept that part about the cake. In reality I have sat in a box for the last 4 years staring at a computer monitor. I’m quite certain that the pixilation is causing me to redevelop the lazy eye I had in my youth. If they were to spread newspaper under my chair and throw a food pellet in my inbox at noon, I would officially be a hamster, a 30-year-old lazy eyed hamster.

Holy Whoa! This is a train wreck. It’s a good thing that no one is likely to ever read this or I may very well be required by law to take therapy . . . . again. Well there I am, I’m all signed up and ready to blog. If I return to this site and see two profile views, I will wonder who on earth you were. In my mind I will hope you were Jessica Biel and that you found me because we secretly are the only two people on earth who truly “get” the genius of Daniel Day Lewis’ character portrayal of William Cutting. You, and John McEnroe. I don’t know why. I just think John McEnroe is cool. Who else can get away with putting a head band over an afro, wearing nutter shorts in public, and screaming at the top of his lungs, “You cannot be serious”. Now that’s a man’s man.

PS – If you are Billy Bob McGraw from Mobile Alabama and you are looking for the guy from the local NRA office because he keyed your 1984 Camero, I’m not him. But if you happen to know Super Gazer Goth Girl can I have her number?