Ligers & Other Facts

So, I have been thinking and for those who know me well, you know that this is a good time to log off or reach a bottle of your favorite prescription painkiller or even a strong muscle relaxant... a mixture of the two would be ill advised.  Then again that depends on your personal level of experience in drug mixing.  Either way, not my place to judge, in fact forget I brought it up at all.  So, how about the  weather...pretty cool.  Pardon the pun.  So here is what is on my mind and don't claim later when you are unable to sleep at night, that you didn't have ample warning.  There will be no law suits or even strongly worded letters, no threatening phone calls at strange hours, or mysterious cars sitting in front of my house or even persons of unknown identity lurking in the shadows .  And yes, this includes you Mr.Dressup, and don't think for a moment that I am fooled by that ridiculous  "marching band" uniform that you seem to love so much. I have it in good authority that you were never even in a band, unless you count that crappy 60's group LSD Love.  I don't count it, and trust me neither should you.  And while we are talking about trust, why do we put so much trust in what other people tell us?  Like what movies are good or bad, what jeans are perfect for out bums, or even what food is nice to get from a greasy burger joint in Raymond.  I recently caved into the pressure and tried a different chain of mexican restaurant while I was in Utah.  Normally the first place I stop to eat is Bajios, I love it.  But everybody always says"you should go to Cafe Rio, it is the best, way better than Bajios"  So finally this time I relented and had their famous salad.  It tasted nice and I enjoyed the experience, until about a half an hour later, while I was in Target innocently trying to buy linens for my daughter.  Out of the clear blue sky, a demon descends in to my colon and the severe cramping in my stomach has me hanging on the cart in order to avoid collapsing to the floor.  I want to run, to the anything but conveniently located restrooms, but the need to squeeze my cheeks together, renders this impossible.  Instead I am forced to make the long walk, face ashen, skin covered in goose bumps, in as stately a manner as possible.  If I hadn't felt so much relief, I would have pitied the poor soul who entered the cubicle after me, but instead I emerged all wobbly,sort of like a marathon runner, who's muscles have had to self cannibalize, dehydrated and exhausted... and yet thrilled to have made it through.  Later my cousin would casually mention that he never eats there because of what he calls "cafe-rhea" . Information that would have been useful yesterday.  However, I am sharing it with you, my faithful readers as a cautionary tale of what happens when you cave in to peer pressure;sometimes it seems well meaning, and then your butt makes a deal with the devil, and you don't even know it. And that is just like life, you try a salad that everyone is raving about, and the next thing you know you are in a world of pain,and still wondering what you did to deserve it.

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