Monday, June 4, 2007

Writer's Block ... er... blog


(stares at blank screen with blank eyes shooting off word blanks)

Let's see...

(toneless whistling)

... flex fingers...

Okay, here goes...

(starts typing)

"It was a Dark and Stormy..."

No, that's already been taken.


(more toneless whistling... worse because I'm actually trying to create something recognizable)

Actually, I do have something to talk about... not writing related, though.

You see, I'm sorta skinny. Not rail thin, mind you, but I'm not a robust kinda guy. Mebbe I sport a bit of the middle aged Dunlap's thing(as in it done laps over my belt, aka having too much table-muscle), but gravity doesn't pull downward with all that much force.

Anyway, the problem with being thin is, well, a more 'filled out' America is shopping for clothes, especially shorts and the retailers have responded. And ever since my wife hid my baby blue (with a cool racing stripe) terry cloth shorts, I've not had much success in finding shorts that look good on me.

(my wife takes exception to that entire sentence).

But take a look at what passes for shorts nowadays. You're stuck with either something that kids wear to show off their boxers ... way too low ... or with shorts that, frankly, aren't short, coming all the way down to mid calf or so.

Or worse, you get the shorts where the leg holes are as big around as a python choking down a good sized warthog.

So the other day my wife was guy-watching... (what? you were, hon)... and she checks out my neighbor ... we'll call him "Lance." And he's wearing... are you ready for this?

Normal shorts!

Shorts that fit!

Shorts that don't look like koulats (is this how you spell this? It flunked "spell-check")

She drinks a glass of wine for bravado and actually sorta moseys over and asks Lance, "So, big boy..."

No, she didn't say that.

(hopefully she didn't think it either).

But she finds out from him where he got his shorts.

Next thing I know, we're in the Scion, and we head out at warp speed ... no, Scion Speed... to the shorts-store ... um... Kohls.

A quick swipe of the Visa card later, and I have my own ... non-skater-boy, non-old geezer, non-tree trunk legged ... shorts!

That fit!!

Yeah, new shorts!

Okay, so they're not terry cloth, but they're mighty fine anyway.

And they don't make my legs look like a couple de-barked aspen branches.

I look great!!!

... yup...

(turn my attention back to the screen).

Hmmm... now where was I?

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