They say trouble come in threes. Who are They? Aw, those Old Wives who always have so much to say when butter won't churn and dogs bark at midnight.
So Friday, I'd told you about my 2009 Mother Nature's Super-Speed Basement Flooding and Spider Relocation Program. Let's call that Old Wife Trouble Number One.
Then, my being sideswiped on Friday morning as I drove to work-- which left my back wheel at a nifty unnatural angle that I've discovered is more artistic than functional-- I believe qualifies for Old Wife Trouble Number Two.
So I ask you folks-- how can we make the most of Old Wife Trouble Number Three? Y'know, if we believed these sorts of things (which we don't, but for the purpose of this post, we're gonna be strong Old Wife Supporters).
I mean, let's forgo the "Jenn Snuffing it in Some Tragic Yet Creative Way" from this list. As that would mean no more blog posts. And I kinda like chatting with you guys three times a week, so I would be dead and bummed out.
Let's get really jiggy with the Old Wife Trouble Three! (And preferably never, ever have to use the word "jiggy" again.) Here are my suggestions:
- Being stalked by Pauly Shore and tied up and forced to watch Biodome on a loop (credit to Kathcom of MajickSandwich for the Biodome suggestion... I think. :) )
- Plague of locusts strategically centered on my small sliver of property. Locusts then do Busby Berkley-style musical, in shifts, for 24 hours straight using chorus-line kicks and rubbing their legs together to create harmony. They love Mama Mia.
- Finding self in situation where I'm in my old high school in my underwear-- and I'm already awake. Having to explain to hall monitor that I have no hall pass, given I have no pockets.
- Discovering that Tom Cruise is actually my long-lost brother. Wishing I could lose him again quickly before he sets his sights on my sofa.
- Opening my Netflix to find that the only videos they can now send me are Legends of the Fall, Gigli, and The Notebook. And no, I can't cancel my service.
- Learning my home is on a rare pit of Pennsylvania SlowSand-- not as quick as quicksand, it takes eight years before you notice it's suddenly sucked your home under in a day.
- Get papers saying in a moment of sleepwalking, I'd inadvertently married CarrotTop. And he's really happy about it. In fact, he's created some props to show me just how much.
Okay, I have to stop now. I think I just made myself vomit slightly there.
So what suggestions do you have for my very worst Third Trouble?
I will probably somewhat dilute this whole post by sharing some good news I had with you last evening... I found out that I took Second Place in Humorpress' April/May writing contest. You can check that out here.
Congrats also to two fellow Humorbloggers-- VE who came in at a sparkly First Place, and Ann of Ann's Rants, in a very lovely Fifth Place. Way to go, folkses!