Friday, April 16, 2004

What the HELL was that?

What the HELL was that?

It's a beautiful day here in Murfreesboro. Went for a walk. Did one more load of laundry. Sat at a pic-a-nic table and wrote on a yellow pad until my hand hurt. It was just like three days ago that it was rainier and colder than bejeezus (your actual mileage may vary). It's like, sunny and 80.

But, I'd just come in from writing. I'd sat down on the edge of my bed to take my shoes and socks off, when I felt a low rumble. Normally, I'd run to the bathroom when anything like this happened, but I quickly ascertained that the rumbling wasn't coming from, you know, down there.

But it was a low rumble that lasted about ten seconds.

Also, the change on my nightstand was rattling. That's only happened in conjunction with intestinal dysfunction nine or ten times in my life.

Either we just had us an Earth Tremor here in Middle Tennessee, or a big damned truck just rolled past my house for, like, 10 seconds.

And I didn't hear no trucks.

Changing the subject.

Last Friday, I posted my own Friday Five questions. And then Friday Five posted theirs. Well. Friday Five sucks. Where are your ancestors from? Melmach. Where do you think they're from? They're from Kentucky. Where else would they be from?

What kind of Root Beer? IBC, beeyotch! Nothing but the best.

I ain't Friday Five anymore. Until I get bored on a Friday.

I can do better.

Here now, are my own Friday Five Questions:

1. What do you think that was just now when your whole bedroom was shaking and rumbling?

I dunno. Coulda been a tremor. I wonder if anybody else in M'boro felt it. Gunny? Gunny? Could have been a truck. Sometimes I don't hear things as well as I should. Selective listening. No trucks in my auditory canals.

2. Are you sure it wasn't just gas?

Jeebus. Did the canary die? No, he's still alive in his cage. He's staring at me, like he's suspicious of something. But definitely alive.

3. You sure talk about gas a lot.

Well that wasn't much of a question. It's more of a narrow-ended statement. Granted, it's a statement intended to goad a response, yes, but not a question. Won't have many other people playing along with that one.

3. Okay. I'll rephrase. Do you think you talk about gas too much?

I think it was Sherwood Anderson who said "write what you know." And buddy, do I know flatulence.

So no. I don't think I talk about gas too much. Maybe in this post. But not in general, no. (Your actual mileage may vary).

4. Do you think that's a sign of a problem? A mental problem?

Talking about farting? An indicator of a mental problem? Not particularly.

I tend to think that Dell Computer box that I keep in the closet that's full to the brim with hair is more of a sign of a mental problem. If you want to walk down that road.

Or the fact that I can't touch anything with my hands without first smelling it. To see if it's healthy.

5. Do you really have a Computer Box full of hair? Or that other thing, where you smell stuff?

No, not really. I don't have a box of hair in my closet. Not anymore.

And you can't really tell if anything...a doorknob for healthy by smelling it. I thought everybody knew that.

You have to taste things to make sure they're safe to touch.

That's another narrow-ended question, by the way. I dare anybody to play along with these questions.

I never said I was any good at this sort of thing.


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