My World of Parkinsonian Delights

Leftover Effluvia from Saturday

It’s not all video games, you know.

First, Gail and I went to the Golden Corral.  Funny how the handicapped parking spots there are always filled.  I guess it’s because most folks go there and eat until they are handicapped.  And Lord… is it LOUD in there?  Nobody seems to know how to talk with an “inside” voice.  And you got kids running around presenting hazards for handicapped fatties like me.  And pound-for-pound, I think I was one of the thinnest people there.

But hey, you give the people “all you can eat” steak and ribs and pie and potatoes and corn and mac and cheese and banana pudding at a reasonable price?  They’s gonna GORGE!

But I did see something that, at first, horrified me.

I was shocked and appalled!  Sure, times are tough and meat prices are through the roof, but THAT’S no excuse to raid ORPHANAGES to STEAL BABIES and serve their juicy, succulent, mouth-watering, charbroiled RIBs to customers.  I mean, they’re only BABIES for God’s sake!

And an ENDLESS SUPPLY of sweet, innocent, delicious little baby ribs?  Who is the monster who CAME UP with this idea?  Was it OBAMA?  Nancy Pelosi?  Harry Reid?  SURELY it must have been SOME prominent Democrat who has taken the pro-choice angle to its only logical extreme and came up with the idea to rip their little rib cages from their chests, sell them to Golden Corral where they can be broiled and slathered with sauce, and you can eat as many of them as your stomach can hold, and…

Then I pulled the card out to take a closer look.  It says “Endless Baby Back Ribs.”  That’s a kind of cow, I think.  And God put the cow on the Earth for no other reason than to make milk and be eaten at a certain age of deliciousness.

I felt kinda silly for disturbing the whole restaurant with my ranting, but honestly — as noisy as the place was — I don’t think anyone heard me.

Then it was home for some more Wii fun.  I already told you how I made my son recall the years when I was stronger and tougher than he was by schooling him in the fine art of Wii Boxing and Wii Sword Play.  Well, later that evening I played a solo game of Sword Play which involved me (or, in this case, “Mii”) running through a course with umpteen dozens of OTHER  “Mii’s” trying to kill me with THEIR swords.  I ultimately prevailed, standing on a heap of vanquished corpses.  I looked to my right, and my devoted border collie, Raven, was giving me a look that could only mean one thing…

"You are my HERO!"

I accepted her adulations as we sat down to watch a double episode of “Cops” on Fox, at which time Raven got down on the floor, put a ball in her mouth, and died.  (You can see the picture at the top of this post.)

After I convinced her that dead dogs don’t wag their tails and moan and growl for attention, she got up and we all went outside so the girlies could go potty and then go to bed.

Such was my Saturday.

How was yours?

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