Thursday, July 21, 2022

Is The Epoch Of Pretty-Sure-ness Giving Way To The Era Of Certainty?

Perhaps you recall that I've been pretty sure Farmer H is trying to kill me. Numerous times. But tonight, at 10:30 as I type this, I'm almost certain.
 
Farmer H left at 4:30 to attend a play at the local junior college. It was Beauty and the Beast, and one of The Veteran's young daughters was a cast member. Farmer H thought it started at 5:30, and wanted to get there early. Which is what he'd been told by The Veteran.
 
Turns out the play didn't start until 7:00! So there was Farmer H, having skipped supper because he said he'd eat when he got home. At 8:20, he said the third act had just ended, and there was one left to go! He said he'd pick up something to eat on the way home.
 
I was a bit concerned, because Farmer H should not be skipping meals, and should make better plans to take his medication on a more regular schedule. By 10:20, I was wondering where in the Not-Heaven he was! Were the curtain calls taking a long time? Was he having a 7-course meal? Then I heard the dogs barking to announce his arrival.
 
"Where have you been?"
 
"That last act didn't start until 8:40! And the whole thing wasn't over until 9:30!"
 
That didn't really explain it, because it's only a 15 minute drive. But I guess maybe there was a crowd, and traffic took a while to clear on their mile of exit road, and then there's a stoplight to contend with to get on the highway, and some construction that entails a detour.
 
"What did you have for supper?"

"Taco Bell."

I'M GOING TO DIE! 
 
If you don't see any updates, you'll know that I was killed overnight by Farmer H's butt, thanks to his accomplice, Taco Bell.

It's going to be worse than Genius and the White Castles...

4 comments:

  1. Methane. It just makes you stronger...

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  2. Occasions like this is when Farmer H should be carrying a bag of diabetes approved snack foods, perhaps crackers and cheese cubes or whatever he can have when he misses a meal. If I don't see a post from you tomorrow, I'll know the Taco Bell got you.

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  3. If I ate Taco Bell that late at night, I doubt I could have slept at all!! I suppose he wasn't bothered by indigestion, just aromatics?

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  4. Sioux,
    Assuming it doesn't KILL ME!

    ***
    River,
    I totally agree. He needs some little packs of peanut butter crackers, or some nuts, or maybe some Slim Jim beef sticks. Then again, we all know that Farmer H won't do this, being the kind of person who eats 2 or 3 CASEY'S DONUTS every morning in secret. He is extremely non-compliant about doing what's best for his health.

    I survived the Taco Bell butt gas from Farmer H. Hey! That might be a good T-shirt slogan for sale on the counter at my proposed handbasket factory and the Shackytown Roadside Attraction and Amusement Park.

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    Kathy,
    Farmer H did not mention any indigestion. And surely you don't think he'd be inconvenienced by his own aromatics!

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