Thursday, July 8, 2010

You Dropped the Bomb on Me, Baby

I think I have a chip planted in my brain. I believe the receptor on that chip is attached to TRC's computer. I am fairly certain this chip must send him a text or an email when I have forgotten he exists. Screw you Steve Jobs, your futuristic technology and the robot you rode in on.


It started a few weeks ago. Just a "Hey, how are you?" texts and then he would be gone for another 24 to 48 hours. Then last week I got the standard "Hey, you wanna ride over?" After waiting for my reply for about 30 minutes he then says "Well, I guess not." Really, there boy genius? It took you 30 minutes to figure that one out? Hmm, slow would be a compliment.


Anyway, last night after a few unsettling texts with the Gingerman, TRC sends me a text and boy is it a nuclear warhead: "Why don't you come over? I could use the company and I'll set the alarm for in the morning".


Do we have a nuclear fall out shelter in the area? Cause he dropped the bomb on me for sure.


Me: And you promise to not let me be late for work?


TRC: I promise. Scouts honor.


To Be Continued...........

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