My iPhone Made Me Say This
You know how when you're typing a text or a tweet or whatever and your phone will give you two or three suggestions as to what it thinks you are attempting to type?
Yeah, well, I started taking my phone's suggestions and ended up with a series of seriously unserious tweets.
[Note: If you aren't yet following me on Twitter, now's the time to get it together with @deweyroth.]
- The best way for a great game to start is at your house.
- The only way I could find my favorite song is to be a little kid or a complete idiot.
- The best way for a great app to keep your business info from Facebook is to be able to email you with your own info.
- I'm pretty sure my mom is the only person who can make me feel better.
- I'm not surprised to hear that the new version of Facebook has a better way to get a new iPhone.
- The best thing about this is how much more time I can make for my life.
- The only way I could be with my family and my favorite thing is when we are all together.
- I'm sure that you are not surprised at all the times I am not surprised.
- I'm pretty much just a guy who can make a difference.
- The best thing about being home alone was the fact that I was able to find the right time to read.
- I think there's no point to this.
A Question For The Ages
I've been keeping a journal, with off-again/on-again irregularity, for what is commonly referred to as A Long Time.
Generally speaking, my journals are full of milestones of my personal history, musings on then-current controversies, conflicts, or convolutions, and memos of my hopes and dreams.
Not surprising, then, is the following note from Sunday, January 5, 1992, as I was preparing to leave for a week at the National Youth Leaders Convention: "I'm really looking forward to the week with Rick et al. We will laugh, and hear some things to get excited about, and disagree with, and grow from, and be challenged by. Lord, I'm willing to hear anything you want to tell me."
Obviously, my expectations were high. I was going to experience the week with a group of guys that I had a glorious history with...the kind of friends where time elapsed between face-to-face fellowship has no effect. God had bonded us with a strong sense of love and respect.
And then, on Monday, January 6, 1992, I haul off and write THIS:
"Nine hour trip from Indy to Joplin, MO with Rick S, Mike D, Troy M, Todd W, Nate P, Dan H, etc. Why is farting so funny?"
38 Years Later
June 9, 1979...People were packed to the rafters. (#TrueTruth: The small-town church building we got married in had a two- or three-row balcony along two sides of the sanctuary which was full, along with the stairs leading up to it.)
The day was HOT, the building had no air conditioning, and the windows were wide open - begging for some sort of breeze to find its way inside.
It was an uncomfortable day for a wedding, but it was apparently a perfect day to ride a motorcycle.
Around the block the church was on.
Over and over.
The audio of the wedding sounds something like this:
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the BRAAAAAP VROOM-VROOoom! not to be entered into lightly. Marriage has been ordained by God as the brrrrAAAAAP VROOM SPUT! SPUT! this woman to be married to this man?
I'm thinking...if I ever wanted out, there's no real proof that the vows ever got vowed.
(Never gonna happen, Beloved. Happy 38th Anniversary!)
Amazing Bacon Proclamation
Parade magazine tried to hide the true truth I'm about to reveal, but I will not be silenced!
In this past weekend's edition of Parade, several regional hamburgers were featured as a welcome-to-summer kind of thing. One of the creative creations was The Vermonster, from the Boston Burger Company: "a delicious mash-up of a bacon cheeseburger and a classic Yankee apple pie".
Not gonna lie...the idea of an apple pie on a bacon cheeseburger doesn't even begin to sound appealing to me, but that's not the issue I have with this. The problem was this statement within the description:
The Vermonster's secret is searing the burger and the bun in bacon drippings.
Bacon drippings? Who are they trying to kid?
They are FRYING the burger and bun in bacon GREASE...the melted fat from the slabs of processed fat that are adorning the sandwich and also hardening the arteries of everyone eating this heart-stopper.
Bacon drippings...how precious...
* * * * * * *
You know, the more I talk about this...the better it sounds.
Tip of the Slongue
Even though I AM accustomed to public speaking, every so often things go...as FlatulenceKing used to say...catty-wumpus.
ADDED ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: Only one of the above verbal mistakes actually happened. Can you guess which one?
- I never watch TV anymore. I just net dooflix.
- That's so sad! Your story hates my bark!
- You'll like this ice cream. It's got chocs of chunkolate.
- I hate when stuff like hat thappens.
- ♫ Lonely days are gone. I'mma goin' home. My baby just lent me a rotor.
- Do you remember when it used to feel special to order a peeperoni petza?