I’M SORRY — YOU’LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP.

MY HEARING HAS YET TO RECOVER.

[Wipes blood out of ear canal.]

TOTALLY WORTH IT.

Let’s say I drop my cellphone.

Not cool.

But… let’s say, before it hits the ground, I manage to get my foot underneath it and, with preternatural agility, kick it straight up in front of my face. And I reach out and pluck it out of mid air.

I think we would all agree that the awesomeness of that sequence of events would be fairly high.

Sadly for me, I didn’t do that.

But… let’s say, before the cellphone hits the ground, I manage to get my foot underneath it and, with preternatural agility, kick it straight up in the air and into my face, breaking my nose. While I am busy spurting blood (and crying), the cellphone — with a now-much-higher nasal-assisted velocity — hits the ground and shatters remarkably. Shooting shards of plastic into my legs. Doctors would later decide — due to its proximity to an artery — that the SIM card could never be removed safely. For the remainder of my life, the scars would itch before thunderstorms. And the premiere of each season of American Idol. Which would outlast my freaking lifetime.

While it could be said that this outcome would be impressively awesome from the objective viewer’s perspective, my internal awesomeness meter would likely display never-before-seen negative levels in the aftermath.

Sadly for the objective viewer, I didn’t do that either.

Instead…

Let’s say, before it hits the ground, I manage to get my foot underneath it and, with preternatural agility, break its fall sufficiently to prevent any remarkable shattering. And bodily damage. Slight uptick on the meter.

However, I do manage to send it shooting twenty-five feet down the hall to careen — with a sound reminiscent of a mournful kettle-drum — off a garbage can.

And the meter heads back to zero.

Yeah. I did do that.

I feel so butch.

I installed a new doorknob in the bathroom this weekend.

I figured it was time, when after three weeks of not latching at all, it suddenly decided to latch so successfully that I actually needed to shimmy it open with a credit card.

Which, it now seems, is a skill I possess.

Even butchier.

[Pause.]

I should probably clarify the second sentence up there.

When I say that I “installed a new doorknob in the bathroom”, I mean that I installed it on the bathroom door.

It’s not like I went in there and installed it on the shower curtain. Or the plunger.

While charmingly random, that would have been slightly lower on the butchiness scale.

[Pause.]

Now that I think about it, even mentioning that the installation of the doorknob on the bathroom door made me feel butchy sort of… dandifies the whole feeling.

It’s like… a gunfighter taking down the evil cattle baron and all his henchmen and then walking around town saying stuff like:

• “Wow! Did you see that! I nailed him! Pretty freaking macho, eh?”
• “I think we all know who the big man around these parts is now, don’t we? Heh-heh-heh. And if you are unaware as to whom I am referring, the big man is ME.” [Kisses biceps.]
• “I guess nobody in town has a job anymore, considering I just killed the town’s lone employer and his entire upper management team. Hmmmmm… due to the awesomeness of me, I guess I could come up with a new way for you to make money.” [Brows furrow in really butchy thought.] “I could autograph stuff that you could then sell on eBay. Stuff like… t-shirts. And farm… implements. Because my signature will increases its value. Due to my manliness. Which is extreme. TO THE MAX!”

[Pause.]

Aw hell.

It wasn’t even a credit card that I shimmied the door open with.

It was a Shoppers Drug Mart Optimum Card.

And it only had 2500 points.

I bet gunfighters don’t even have Shoppers Drug Mart Optimum Cards.

They probably have really cool things.

Like horses. And cowboy hats. And conclusions.

[Pause.]

Stupid gunfighters.

• wbztv.com: “Man Robs NH Bank Disguised As Tree” (via Digg)

Police are looking for a man who attempted to disguise himself as a tree and rob a bank in Manchester, New Hampshire Saturday morning.

Police say the suspect used duct tape to attach tree branches onto his body as a form of camouflage. He then walked into the Citizens Bank on Elm Street and demanded money.

Yes.

You read that correctly.

He disguised himself as a tree.

But wait!

It gets better!

The tree robber was able to escape with an undisclosed amount of cash.

YES.

IT. WORKED.

[Brain juice leaks out of ears.]

Seriously though, his choice of camouflage does need some work. Unless the bank was in the middle of Sherwood Forest.

Would it have been that hard to staple some deposit slips and ATM receipts to his body?

Nobody can see me… nobody can see me…

…

UPDATE: Damn. They caught him.

But he would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for those pesky kids and that darned dog!

I have returned.

Actually, I returned a whole two days ago, but the universe conspired to proceed without me while I was on my vastly enjoyable sojourn in Montreal, so I’ve been playing catch-up. (Thanks a lot, Universe. Couldn’t take the weekend off while I was away, could you? No. That wouldn’t have been fair at all. Frigging jerk.)

To tide you over until I have grappled the Universe into a nigh unbreakable headlock (yeah — I’m looking at you, Universe… look upon my fists and despair, ya dumbass), please allow me to present you — my feta-cheese-dappled readers — with a brief factoid:

After driving for 11 hours, the funniest things in the world are (1) fruit-flavoured cigarillos, (2) satellite radio, and (3) pink and silver unicorns named “Porny”.

It’s a fact.

Believe me, I was as surprised as you.

* Photo totally stolen from Mike.