SuperSatellite ||

Okay, so you remember when I mentioned how the pop machine at work was flirting with me? Yeah well, apparently it really wants to get in to my pants or something, as yesterday not only did it give me a free pop, but also a dime! Damn right. I think it just likes me pushing its buttons. That dirty machine. Mmmmmm….inanimate object sexing. Sorry, went to a bad place there.

I hit a raccoon last night. I’m sorry. I don’t understand animals fascination with running under cars at night, or rather their inability to keep from doing so. Once I ran in to traffic for fun, played a little dodge car, but the first time one clips you, spins you into another car, flips you over the hood and in to the windshield, then drops you about five feet on to the pavement, it really loses its fun. But at least I can predict that happening. I just choose to ignore it. Animals seem to lack that predicting ability. What’s funnier is how we react. “Oops, just a raccoon.” “Look at that squirrel pancake!” “Holy shit! That was the biggest fucking beaver I’ve ever seen! Oh well, dead now. Shithead.” But if it’s a kitten or a puppy….totally different. I saw a squished kitten on the way to rehearsal the other night, it was terrible. You might as well throw a baby out there and back over it a couple times (How many babies does it take to pave a road? Depends on how flat you crush them.). It’s a whole different league though. As Denis Leary put it: Cow -”I’m an animal, I have rights!” Man-”No you don’t, you’re a fucking baseball glove now get on the truck!”

Okay, so fair enough, that was pretty horrible huh? What can I say? I’m a horrible person. Who loves dead baby jokes and roadkill sammiches.

Sorry for two posts today, but this was a little to strange to leave be, and I’m sure if I waited till I return Sunday I’d forget about it.

This morning when I got to work, I went to grab me a sodie pop from the dispensory machine.  I spent like five minutes trying to get it to take my change, but it wouldn’t, just kept spitting it back out at me.  Out of one of our strange human impulses I finally reached up and hit a button anyway.  Suddenly, a pop appeared, clearly paid for by some nice leprechaun looking out for me.  "What luck!" exclaimed I, as I enjoyed my non-caffinated Mug root beer.

I thought that was the end.

I thought wrong.

So I go to lunch with Amanda.  I eats me some tips with ’shroomies.  I get back.  I fart a couple times because now I have gas, which is a bad idea in my little office with the door closed, but amusing all the same.  I require refreshment now though, so I return yet again to yon’ pop prognosticator.  I figure I saved sixty cents earlier, so what the heck, live a little.

I get there and something just doesn’t feel right.  There’s a….there’s a feeling in the air.  Instinctually I reach up and push the Pepsi button without putting in any money, and Pepsi I shall have!  So twice in one day I have been graced with free pop from the same machine, and still have my original sixty cents to spare.

I’m gonna wait an hour or so.

I’m totally going for number three.