Today I will be refraining from anxiously drawing parallels between Donald Trump’s rise and the madness that happened in 1939. (Except, of course, that I am terrified and wonder how many people would be and will be willing to step out of their way to help their fellow man from the madness that tyrants have wrought, especially when they won’t get the sweaty hell out of the way to let someone get a lid for their icy cold soda.)
So, while I do have moments of cold, biting fear, I have many, many more moments that are made up of large bursts of silly.
I was conversing with Batman yesterday and I asked him what his favorite Unsolved Mystery is. He stated that he didn’t really have one and while I was giving him a quick rundown of the famous unsolved I interrupted myself and stated that quite a few of the mysteries that are considered unsolved, have actually been retired.
Like Amelia Earhart. Batman hadn’t heard the theory that has Amelia’s disappearance resolved. I told him that her navigator, Fred Noonan was known to have a drinking problem. (What I actually said was, “He was a big ol’ drunk.”) and it is generally assumed that the plane crashed. I further informed him that theory has it that Amelia and Fred’s remains were eaten and scattered by Coconut Crabs. (These beasts should not be confused with Coconut Shrimp which are a big rip-off because they are more coconut then shrimp, and not as delicious as they could be. I do not know what the coconut to crab ratio is, but I do know that those crabs enjoy chomping on bones and have been known to scatter their preys remains.) So that theory states that Fred and Amelia were either dead or incapacitated and subsequently eaten and scattered.
The whole time I was relaying this theory, Batman was giving me the look that I often get from people who don’t know me well. The look also includes a quick glance around the room to make sure that are no sharp or weighty instruments at the ready, just in case I lose the run of myself and stop talking about Giant Crabs and commence to running amok. I asked him if he was looking at me because of the Giant Crabs or because I just happened to have this information available at the ready in my compendium of fun facts.
He said, “Both.”
I was relaying this story to my Amanda Friend and somehow we got on the topic of how we, (Amanda Friend and me) are more fun than a barrel of monkeys, but considerably more pleasant. I remarked that we rarely fling poo. Amanda Friend noted that I left a loop hole for the possible occasion that me might need to fling poo. I got the giggles, picturing the two of us driving through the Great Southwest in convertible, a vat of manure between us as we flung ice cream scoops full of poo at anyone who might need it.
I realize that this does not really do anything to improve my image as a rational human being.
I have fun.