Ed was pretty good last night, though not as spectacular as advertised. Next week is the wedding, which ought to be a grand episode… Unless Dennis marries Carol, in which case my baseball bat and my TV will become very, very close. For those of you that didn’t see it, as I mentioned before, Kelly Ripa was on, reprising her role as Jennifer Bradley. Last season, she was this crazy, spontaneous young woman who broke Ed’s heart. Well she came back, and came up with this fairly elaborate scheme to win Ed back. And there was much rejoicing for Ed. So, as I live vicariously through Ed, it got me thinking what girl(s) from my past I’d like to see reappear in my life, with the intent of winning me over… nope…nope..nope… Well, I could come up with two, and neither seems very likely, considering I’ve not seen the one since 7th grade, and the other can do far better. But oddly enough, I was fine with it, because it could be far worse. I can only imagine the hell if one of the other girls came back into my life. I smell another intervention coming on. (it should be noted that I’ve been assured that if I so much as speak to one girl again, I will be beaten mercilessly by a few members of my extended family.)
If the law of averages states that people basically have 50% good luck and 50% bad luck, then I do believe there’s a guy out there with a hell of a lot of good luck to cancel me out… and I think I know who it is. And with that, I’ve officially decided to give up complaining. That’s right, it’s time for another one of my grandiose experiments (Grandiose Experiments –> More often then not, poorly constructed schemes to make myself a better person, and thus make life better for myself and those around me. While enjoying fairly limited success throughout the years, these experiments have resulted in a number of alterations in/additions to my daily life, including my ability to play the guitar, my decreased use of profanity, and my daily heroin injections. See also: New Years’ Resolutions, “What I did the day after being dumped”, Hangover Promises). This experiment’s goal is quite simple: Trick myself into believing everything is going just fine, until I don’t remember what I’ve been so pissed about the past 7.5 years. So in order to do so, I’ve decided I can no longer complain about anything. Anything. I’m still intending to make fun of just about everything, but not complain about it. It’s a fine line, but I’ve grown quite used to towing fine lines it seems. So how can you help? I’m glad you asked. Odds are, if you’re reading this, you actually know me, and see me on occasion (some more than others). If you see me, and I complain about something, you have my permission to hit me as hard as you can. 2 Rules: 1.) Not in the face, I’m going to need my face later in life. Back of the head is fine, but try to avoid the ears as well.. I’ve had blood pouring out of my ears already, and don’t wish to do that again. 2.) No punching the good. If this experiment works, and I don’t end up dead under a bus in some rainy intersection, I might need them someday. [a boy can hope]. So there you have it. Free punches, who could resist? You don’t even have to let me know you’re punching me.. a sucker punch or two might speed the process along. If I fight back, you have my permission to stab me with a broken bottle. (See Rules #1 and #2).