From the Blog

Thursday, 1 July 2010

Day 123: I thought the Radio City Rockettes were in the house because the beans kicked in.

Week 18:  Do at least 10 push-ups each day this week.

Good morning. Last night I was reminded of my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Horn, and a incident that happened and left me in a such a state of uncontrollable laughter that it got me sent to the principal’s office giggling the whole way there. And when  Mr.”Toad” Thomas, the principal, asked why I was in his presence so early in the morning, I told him in between chuckles what had happened, he too went into a fit of guttural belly laughs. First thing you have to understand is that Mrs. Horn had a, well, (how to I put it nicely?) her gluteus maximus was at her max. Nothing against the lady, she just had large buttocks. It was early in the morning and I was in her reading class. I was appointed to start the day’s reading out of some book and all of a sudden someone let out the loudest flatulence I had ever heard. Everybody was sitting around in a circle laughing when I looked up to see who the culprit was. I had no idea until Mrs. Horn said, “the best of us do it.” The avalanche of laughter started out of my mouth and just kept rolling. Mrs. Horn was giggling also, but not like me. No sir. I was braying like a donkey in the barn yard. She gained her composure and told me to continue where I had left off. Well I just couldn’t stop laughing. She might as well have asked me to paint the Sistine Chapel on the class room ceiling because I would have had better luck doing that than stopping my fit of laughter. It was a combination of a lot of things – how loud it was, who was the butt of the joke, and how Mrs. Horn had said, “the best of us do it.” I was thinking to myself, “Well you’re number one, toots.” She proceeded to say “Mr. Davis, if you can’t stop laughing I’m going to ship you to the principal’s office for disrupting my classroom.” In between gasps of air and laughter I said, “Me,” gasp “dis” gasp “rupt” gasp “you?” gasp “HA ha ha ha ha ha ha.” And I was ejected, folks, with a pointed finger and one stern word – “NOW.”
Obviously Mr.”Toad” Thomas felt the same way I did. He let me chill out in a room until I could pull myself together, which took the entire fifty minute period by the way. There was no way I could back to “ground zero”. Pardon the pun.
How was this memory stirred up? Last night I tried to sneak one out and it came out with a mighty roar. The only difference was that everybody got a kick out of it and I wasn’t sent to the office. Ahh, beans the magical fruit. I ate them before I went to school. Note to self, If I’m going for laughs, eat ‘em before class. If I’m on a date, better eat ‘em late.
I hope everybody has a great day and remembers the best of us do it.
Later,
Barry J

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Day 114: So far, not a peep.

Week 17:  Eat 1/2 cup cooked beans each day this week.

Barry J.

Good morning. I expected too much out of these beans, man. I thought for sure that I would be a gas station by the second day, but so far nothing, nada, zippo. One can only hope and dream, I guess. I’ll keep you updated. I’m sure you’re all waiting with bated breath.
I just picked up Luke and right now he’s eating blueberries and wheat toast with a little bit of Jif on it. Me, I’m eating Jif and oatmeal with some black coffee. I already had my apple and banana as I drove down to Bloomsburg which is roughly ten miles away.
Last night I remembered that I don’t have a can opener so I walked down to Giant food store at 11:15pm, because that’s the best time to go for a three mile walk and purchase one. Have you bought a can opener lately? I’m not talking an electric one; I’m talking a simple stainless steel basic can opener. Listen I’m not cheap, really I’m not, but holy non-gas producing beans Batman, this thing cost me almost four bucks and it’s a piece of carp. It isn’t even built like the ones we had when I was a kid. I don’t want to sound like a forty year old man (because I’m not), but back when I was young you could open up a Sherman Tank with the can opener that was in my mother’s utensil drawer. I’ve got to be careful what I write about. The next thing I know there will be a package on my front porch the size of a 1967 VW Bug that will contain either 13,639 all-natural can openers or one state of the art opener that will not only open cans, but recycle them and turn them into a hybrid car.
I hope everybody has a great day and prays I get some material from these beans.
Later,
Barry J