I know I’ve mentioned this before, but my brother, Brian, is a huge Dan marino fan. He can spout stats, records and other accomplishments all day long without missing a beat.
He’s got a wall at work dedicated to Dan Marino. Seriously. Check it out:
It doesn’t translate to well in this picture, but it’s pretty epic.
Oh, and those shopping carts? Yeah, Wal*Mart.
Except the red one, that’s from the Smith’s across the street.
So the same day I saw the frickin’ birds in Wal*Mart, I also saw pretty much the creepiest thing I ever saw in a Wal*Mart, and it wasn’t a customer, or even a worker, Check this out:
I’m not even sure what it is, but it’s creepy for damn sure!
Why would anyone buy this? I mean, I can see someone like “Buffalo Bill” wanting several, but that’s even creepier, right?
Speaking of Buffalo Bill and creepiness, you should check out this music video. It’s the greensKeepers and it’s called Lotion.
Anyway, I guess the moral of the story, if there is one, is when you go to Wally World, be prepared both mentally and physically for whatever you may encounter, as there’s just no telling what that may be.
So I’m in the local Wal*Mart the other day, just walking up and down the aisles and entertaining myslef by playing Wal*Mart Bingo, when something whizzes over my head. Naturally I duck, and then look around to what vagabond, undisciplined, parentless kid just ‘jacked something from the toy aisle and is shooting at me. Sadly, no ragamuffin kid to holler at, just a bird that’s swooped up into the rafters.
That’s right, a bird.
In Wal*Mart.
And it wouldn’t really be Wal*Mart without several of them, right?
So, knowing that this shit is going to be unbelievable, I snap a picture. I figure next time I go in, I’ll snag myself a Nerf gun from the toy aisle and start shooting at the birds. Nothing Wally could really get mad at me for, right? Just trying to help out by cleaning the place up.
Seriously, I just can’t make some of this stuff up.
When Brian was 15 and I was 18, he had to get his wisdom teeth taken out. Mom and dad were both at work, so it was my job to take him to the dentist and bring him home again. Being 18 (and not really liking him much at the time) I wasn’t too keen on this idea, but wasn’t really left a choice in the matter having fallen victim to one of my Father’s fail-safe bargaining tactics (no dentist = no car).
Brian and I didn’t speak much on the way to the dentist, which was only a short drive from our house. Upon arriving, I checked him in and settled down with a few magazines, figuring it’d be awhile.
A surprisingly short time later, the nurse came out and asked me to pull my car around the side, which I thought was weird, but she assured me was quite normal.
As I walked in the side door, I saw Brian sitting comnfortably in a recliner inside the dimly lit room. Aside from the cotton puffing his cheeks out, he looked like the same dork I had left at the front desk. Turns out, he was a lot more fun now.
The nurse let me know that he was still pretty out of it from the anesthesia. I didn’t really grasp what this meant until I said to him “c’mon, let’s go” and he just stared up at me. Not a blank idiotic stare, mind you, but the stare of someone who is so far advanced in their knowledge of life, the universe, and everything that he can’t help but marvel at the meaningless triviality of words themselves. Yeah, he was looking at me like I was the dumb one.
The nurse grabbed one arm and motioned for me to grab the other. With his arms around our necks and his feet dragging lifelessly on the ground, the two of us hauled him out to the car. I opened the passneger door, and tried to gently put him in the car. I was mostly successful, but as he was sitting down, his head hit the door frame with a loud *THUD*! The surprising part was, he didn’t really react at all, other than to give me that “enlightened” stare, which made the moment all the more comical. The nurse and I both lost it, laughing uncontrollably while he just stared wisely at the two people rolling on the ground.
A short drive later, and I had to figure out how to get him inside the house. The nurse had said to keep an eye on him for the next few hours, but that he should be back to normal soon. Well, although I’ve never personally done so, I imagine my efforts at getting him into the house and down to his room were pretty similar to someone trying to drag a blow-up doll filled with jell-o across the tilt-a-whirl while it’s running at half-speed. Good times, to be sure.
Brian had this peculiar thing about his bed at that time, and so he really didn’t have one. He slept on a matress on the floor in the corner. Well, I figured he’d be safe enough there, so I got him into his room, knelt him down on his matress, and tried to lay him down, but succeeded only in smashing his face into the wall as he fell directly forward. I gave him a push to one side, and figured that the used-crash-test-dummy pose he ended up in wasn’t going to hurt anything, and it looked pretty cool, so that’s how I left him as I went across the hall to my room.
A few minutes later, I hear him stirring and moving around. I figured he was just trying to get comfortable, but the sound persisted. As I opened my door to check on him, I find him doing jumping jacks on his mattress. As soon as he sets eyes on me (the wise-old-man stare long gone), he starts hollering “SOME ARE, SOME AREN’T! SOME ARE, SOME AREN’T!”
“Some what?” I ask him.
“PENCILS!” he hollers back.
At this point I was unwilling to venture into a conversation with a damn moron, so I just closed his door and left him to his jumping jacks.
Anyway, I stumbled across this video the other day, and it reminded me of that experience.
