Ada and I are in deep Post Prim Depression. Prim (pronounced preem) is our nickname for Fer. It’s short for prima, or cuz’. Luckily the Brocato Brothers (who look just like the Mario Brothers but are less handy at plumbing and leaping over turtles) were here to finish out our month of visitors and keep me occupied with rafting and swimming hole adventures. Also I’d like to offer the Brothers Bro-key-toe a digital key to the city of Asheville for propping up the economy with their generous stimulus packages. Usually when we get visitors Ada and I take them downtown and we end up spending more money than our guests. John and Michael went nuts and bought a bicycle and enough hiking equipment to make them feel guilty for not using it for at least the next decade. Hu-ching! (that’s a combination of hurray and ka-ching)
1. I’ve finished Limbo which involved some slow-mo crashing sideways through glass ceilings and finding a little girl who either
a. lived happily ever after with our hero or…
b. ate his face
You get to decide. Finishing the game and then going back to crush all the hidden Emu eggs gave me a 98% complete ranking and made me the 17,568th person to claim that title out of 180,000 total players. Top 10% baby!
2. My blog has gone into a death spiral. I got to the dizzying height of 111 clicks in a day, which I’m guessing means 40 readers. Then the Brothers B and PPD, plus too much working in the sunlight and/or floating down cold rivers, brought about the blog doldrums and my numbers have fallen to Malinda, Ben, and Heather each giving me a mercy-click a day. Thank you click angels!
3. Road rage update: Now my truck dies after a few days without firing her up b/c my ripped horn wire is draining the battery. The good news is that I found a crooked inspector who’ll pass me without a horn. Michael B assures me that driving with an airhorn stashed in the car door counts as proper honking technology. Paul seconds this. Thank you redneck innovators of yore! Also an unnamed friend, who may or may not have already been named in this post, also admitted to mutilating his/her horn AFTER reading my post. To up the drama his/her 2 year old son/daughter was in the car and 3 cops converged on the blaring scene. The cops just stood there useless, their trigger fingers itching to shoot the horn off. (Unnamed?) friend innovated a better response by simply unclipping the wire from the horn instead of employing the primal yank. Since then I’ve gone back and unclipped the torn end of my wire, which somehow makes me feel better about the whole thing.
4. That’s all I’ve got. Except that Ada broke her billion dollar French eyewear and now resembles a librarian from the Far Side with her glasses held together by a combo of black duct tape and friction tape. I don’t even know what friction tape is designed for but I found it first. It was scratchy on Ada’s nose but with the duct tape layer it’s all smooth. For $400/pair there better be a lifetime warranty.
5. We miss our Prim!