The Walking Lady

Posted By KJ / 21st December 2010

There’s a lady in our neighborhood who walks.  That in and of itself isn’t so strange.  Everyone needs a little exercise, a little fresh air now and again.  It’s healthy, good for you and all that.

Since I’ve been um…home shall we say, I’ve spent a lot of time sitting by a conmnputer that is near a window that looks out on the street so I notice things.  I’m  not the snoopy, weird neighbor.  Okay I am the weird neighbor, but I’m not snoopy.  Really.

So, we live on a street that makes a U.  We live at the start of one end of the U.  There’s a lady in our neighborhood who walks.  This lady walks and walks and walks and then she walks some more.  I’d bet she walks four or five miles a day around the U.  It’s 1/2 mile around so…you do the math.

Anyway, this walking lady who lives on the other side of the U is from Sweden or Switzerland or Norway…you know…some Scandinavian country.  It’s not so odd that she walks because as I’ve previously said, hey people need exercise.  I’d do good to get a little myself.  In the summer if you’re outside, you can tell this lady is walking and is nearing you.  How?  Because you can hear her talk on the fucking phone.  This lady has this goddamned phone surgically implanted in her ear.  I mean really, what the fuck is she talking about on her constant walks around the neighborhood?  Who could she possibly be talking to for all that time?  What’s so fucking important that she can’t wait a minute until she gets somewhere stationary and make the call?

I think I’m going to chase after her and just shout gibberish  so that her phone call is ruined.  That’ll be fun.

Hello Chickens. Roost if you must.

Posted By KJ / 23rd March 2009

So…start the day off testing my blood sugar, not too bad.  Move on to blood pressure.  HOLY S*()@! Um…”listen pal, at the risk of sounding oh..I don’t know…alarmist…YOU BETTER GET TO THE F’ING DOCTOR RIGHT THE F*^& now”, I says to myself  (sometimes my inner voice is a little dramatic and trying for the academy award).

So off I go to the new dr. Wasn’t really even sure of her name and I’m still not.  After some consideration, it wasn’t as bad as my little unit showed but still wasn’t very good at all.  In fact it was still high as a kite, just not a nuclear powered kite with space craft aspirations.

So now because I’m a lazy f*(@) and won’t go to the gym or eat right or get any exercise and who let’s his work run his life, I have to pay the piper and let the chickens roost where they may (how’s that for mixed metaphors or whatever…).  I just hope they don’t poop on me.  I mean really…chicken poop?!  Gross.

Here’s hoping that the nuclear physicists who run the MRA don’t overload the flux capacitors or something.  That would probably suck.