Friday, February 27, 2009

Thank God I Forged a "One Ring"

Back in my earlier, womb-ier days I dedicated myself to relentless self-improvement, education, and keeping my rotator cuffs well oiled (they are bio-hydraulic). In short, I was very busy - so busy that at one point I even made a list. Hence, I did not leave much time for personal projects. It's not like I had 20% of my time to dedicate to areas of selfish interest. I'm not fucking Google, you know.

But now is as good as time as any to mention that I did spend a few minutes engaged in a hobby of mine -and thank God I did, because it seems my greatest fear came to pass yesterday. So yeah, with a few seconds of pre-natal down-time, I went and forged a One Ring.

One Ring to rule them all. Or in this case, the Umlaut.

I'm not even sure why I forged it. It was really for a lark. I thought just in case I ever got hitched to Shiloh or one of the other Pitt-Jolie litter, I'd be all set. I never imagined I would have to use it to save my own family. So now, this new Ring of Power - forged in the molten fires of Mother's womb (after a bad burrito), will be employed to save the world and father (same thing) from a gathering, drooling, wallet-stealing darkness. When she wears it, I will be able to control her, find her, and ultimately destroy her. Just like any new stepson would.

After I heard the rumors of engagement, I found my One Ring and quickly engraved its eternal spell:

Silly me, I need to translate it for you, for I doubt any of the discriminating readers of this site read Waifish:

One ring to rule her fall, one ring to find her, one ring to bring her from the mall, and in the darkness bind her and kick her in the ribs.

I feel a bit guilty for having convinced Father to give the Umlaut a ring as a sign of truce and peace between her and I. But there are greater, more globally significant issues at stake that demand intervention. Like having to watch your "stepmum" snort 3 crushed up Cheerios and calling it 'breakfast.'

(Growth Note: I can look at my wrist and tell the time - without even wearing a watch)

Friday, February 6, 2009

Franchise Fake: Take My Umlaut, Please

I came across an interesting post today at Musket Fire. I have alerted the editor to the offending typo (reprinted below)

I believe there is a serious typographical error in this post, sir. You accidentally wrote "if QB Tom Brady will be healthy enough to play..." when you actually meant, "when QB and Son of the Gods Tom Brady returns from his sabbatical, to dominate the '09 season..."

Yes, that looks much better. And for the record, the Patriots did not franchise Matt Cassell. Father placed the franchise himself, so that Cassel and I can spend some working on his spiral. I've been throwing a perfect rope through bank-vault quality steel since birth, while this dude can barely break drywall. Unacceptable.

Plus, we found $14 million in the Umlaut's purse the other day, so you know, finder's keepers.

What I neglected to include was that in placing the franchise himself, Father gained an impressive bargaining position by adding in a secret term unreleased to the media - a team may either take on Cassel in exchange for two first round draft picks (by rule) OR said team has the option of keeping their picks and instead assume the burden of the Umlaut. The idea of not having to carry this wench around anymore is priceless to me.

Our daily trip to the STD clinic to rid the
Umlaut of her previous evening's exploits!

Naturally, we have yet to discuss how one assumes that burden, or how a transfer will be made (a burlap sack I imagine). In part because our conversations with interested teams immediately sour upon this proposition and they offer up even more draft picks instead. Our genius plan to rid us of the Umlaut backfired, I admit. Presently the current secret offer for Cassel is every draft pick ever (Lions), and Father is tempted to take it, I imagine. But our motivation is truly to spirit the Umlaut away forever and Detriot is unsure if they can convert Cassel into a WR.

Growth Note: My nose is not just perfectly centered on my face. It is the exact center of the universe.