Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Tuesday, August 26, 2003

So yesterday was the big Ice Cream Social. I wasn't going to go, because I really don't eat a lot of ice cream, but hey, it was free. If they were stabbing people for free, I probably would have gone. So just like last year, not a lot of socializing. There was this old dude who was behind me in line and he was not very good in the Respecting My Personal Space Department. He got right on my back. Every time I looked to my left, I would see his face. I felt like a pirate and he was my parrot. He was my old man parrot. He tried to socialize about ice cream (he was also in it because it was free), but I wasn't having it. I was too tired to bullshit with an old parrot/man. And I just wanted some Phish Phood. Is that how Ben and Jerry spell it? I don't know, but it was fucking good. Stupid hippies.

Before I went down, I asked someone what kind of ice cream they got and I heard them say Fish. So I was thinking that has to be the worst Ice Cream Social ever. Fish flavored ice cream? That's fucking nasty. Do they have any alternatives to fish? Maybe roast beef chocolate chip?

Yesterday was my last company softball game of the season. I was running late, so I was hauling ass through Central Park to get there in time. I finally located my team and was sprinting towards the field. "I'm here! Quit your fretting! Mike is here to save the day!" is what I thought I should yell. But luckily for me I did not yell and alert people to my arrival. I was running down this walkway and I hear someone saying "Watch out! Watch out!" I was thinking, They can not be telling me to watch out, for there is nothing to watch for. I am Mike Toole. I am invincible. Hear me roar, motherfuckers. I soon realized this person was indeed telling me to watch out. There was a woman who was walking her dog and had one of those long ass retractable leashes. I did not see it. My leg hit it and I went fucking flying. Somehow I was not hurt. One small cut on my hand. I think my backpack played a part in me not getting killed. I also rolled into a fence, which stopped my forward progress. I got up expecting to hear everyone that I work with and play with to be laughing and pointing. Pointing and laughing. Pointing at themselves laughing. Laughing at their pointers.

But no. No one except the dog and the lady saw me. She was nice and asked me if I was ok. She apologized. Told her it was not her fault. I was laughing. I felt that someone should be laughing at me, so I started laughing. I did not point. And we won.
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