Random and Symbolic Un-Victories

In 2012, November, I bought a bic.  It was at the stop and pee.  The usual bic lighter.  I needed a fire in the upstairs fireplace and had not a match in the house. It had a flag motif of Red White and Blue.  I have had it ever since.  This is unusual for me because I lose such things in the Hansel and Gretel trail of my belongings which I leave wherever I may be. 

Sometime later I bought a red bic.  This is because I knew I would lose the red white and blue one.  I week ago a friend came over and left a blue bic.  I was bic rich!

The Patriot lighter gave out but I was so proud I had it for more than a year keeping it in it's special place!  I took up the blue one.  That's when I discovered that Jerry didn't leave the blue lighter, he abandoned it knowing it was out of fuel.  So it was on to the red one. 

I seem to have lost the red one. 

I am beginning to realize how much details with no significance have to people who are idle. 

Maybe I will buy an adjustable Bic this time. 

I heart you all!

How about that pretender at the Mandela service pretending to sign! Talk about big huge salty South African balls! There was an earlier story about the appalling lack of security at the event and then some fool gets up on the podium and waives his hands about in what may have been American Sign a request for an unsecured loan or an attempt to order the antipasto in Italian. Worse yet, when the citizens of South Africa booed their president, the mime didn't put that in either. A big "L" to the forehead! I'm sure they know who they are. At the very least we could have loaned them some of our Airport Breast Milk Police.

What did I say?

Two weeks ago I had both an upper and a lower GI done at Dr. Sitti's house of gastro-something-ology.  During this procedure a team from the north was to travel through my body in  a southern direction to meet explorers from the south headed northward where they would drive the golden spike and have a photo op (or something). 

I was given a substance which caused me to become very unfocused but not unconscious.  I remember seeing lots of pink on the nifty portable TV screen the doctor had there.  I don't know if it was "up pink" or "down pink" but I'm pretty sure it was "my pink."  I thought that I would remember being penetrated at some time given that a mobile news crew was going live on location inside of me.

My first issue is that I wanted to remember it so I could hold on to the drama.  Now I'm merely another hapless victim who got so messed up they didn't remember what happened.  I know there was compressed gas involved! 

My second issue is that my chauffeur informed me after the procedure that I kept the clinic staff laughing loudly for 43 minutes some 16 minutes longer than my usual routine.  I have enough issues that I could have said any number of things like "Kiss me Doc." I might have told them about the time we took that runaway down to Ray's Shell and traded her for an oil job.  There is a lot of running room between small talk and privilege.  I wonder where my skid marks are?

I wonder, I wonder I wonder; but I really don't want to know.