Friday, January 06, 2006

The Dog's Bollocks


I noticed a huge whoopsie (or ‘Fuck up’ as the French would say) on my last entry. It was one of those forehead-slapping moments that nearly lead to tears, like when you realize too late that you’ve set out in a sea of milk in a boat made of graham crackers (No, I don’t know what that means either. It’s Friday. Cut me some slack why doncha?)

I constructed my affirmations in such a way that I felt was clear to everyone—including the laws of the universe. Well this just goes to show why I am not hoeing a deeper row in the evolutionary field.

My goal- I thought- was simple: “I will sell my Blazer in the next ten days.”

Now who can tell me the ENORMOUS flaw in the logic of this? That’s right, if I say, type or curse into my pillow late at night these exact words, I am prolonging the deadline into infinity since everyday I repeat it I am essentially saying I will sell it ten days from TODAY. The solution, I suppose, would have been to set an exact date but as many of you know, I am a very, very lazy man.

Here I was, so desperate to sell a hunk of devaluing Chevy workmanship that I fell to the charms of unproven Shirley MacLaine psycho babble. Secretly, I had even hoped that if enough people took the time to read the affirmation that they would be doing the work for me—unless of course all my readers also have Blazers, which could lead to problems-especially if theirs wasn’t for sale in the first place. This, my friends, is why magic- in all shapes and sizes- is better left to the professional faith healers and grandpas with too many quarters and grandchildren with ears.

Well thank god for Phil from the Playaz who has offered a solution. For one hundred dollars he promises to gladly “take it off my hands.”

My question is this: how so? For a mere 100 American clams is Phil suggesting, figuratively, that he knows someone who knows someone who might perchance leap at the opportunity to indulge in a 4X4 “adventure” in the wilds of Lynden, Washington (where, for reasons I won't go into at the moment said Blazer is being kept), therefore granting me access to a tax-free insurance claim? (Notice I didn’t mention the words “steal” or “car-jack".) On the other hand, perhaps Phil was simply offering to take the Blazer literally off my hands when the credit union from Hell parks it on them when I miss another payment...I'm not sure.

Either way, I feel that this experiment is a complete failure and I think it’s fair to say that I’ve learned my lesson. (I hope your happy Mr. Universe...whoever you are.)

(To myself:
I will no longer dabble in unproven theories. I will no longer dabble in unproven theories. I will no longer dabble…)

By the way Phil, either option is fine. You know where to find me. (Wink. Wink.)

1 Comments:

Blogger Phil said...

Just to clarify...you would pay me the $100...after that, who knows what I'll do with it? The theories you suggest may be true, and you would be welcome to capitalize on any perceived loss from the transaction.

P.S. How does the name "Frank" grab you? Very manly...reminds one of a hotdog (a very enjoyable American meal). Might I suggest you use this instead of "Wayne"?

9:00 pm  

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