Two million by two million, is what the children’s song really means. My apartment is infested with ants. Millions of tiny, red ants. The source? No one knows for sure. But any measly scrap or crumb of food in any nook and cranny of our apartment has been sought out and swarmed by an army of angry insects. They’re seemingly unstoppable. Do I need to contact the Orkin Man? At what point does a bug infestation call for professional assistance? Lord help me.
Tonight for team night our team is going to play whirlyball. “What in the fuck is whirlyball?” you ask. Whirlyball, by definition, is, and I quote:
WhirlyBall is the ultimate team sport.
If you choose to accept the challenge, WhirlyBall involves normally, sane adults driving bumper cars while holding hand held scoops to pass and propel whiffle balls at a backboard. Groups in size from 10 people to 2000, in a teams of five on five, and with the help of a professional referee, you will have a bang up time trying to outscore the competition.Since WhirlyBall is a new sport, everyone will have the same skill (or lack thereof)
making it all the more fun.
This is going to be a disaster.
But what gives me hope is that, like they mentioned in the above definition, whirlyball is one of those sports, like bowling, that virtually everyone is bad at (unless you’re a freak of nature). Therefore, there’s no sense in being embarrassed by your lack of skill or coordination, because you’re only one of 30 other flailing fools out there.
In other words, I will drink heavily before participating.
My spine is breaking. I don’t know what’s happening. My back feels like that of an 80 year old man. I have no idea what is causing me this much discomfort and pain. My first instinct was to blame my back pain on my huge boobs, but then I remembered that A-cups don’t usually strain one’s spinal cord too badly. But really, things as simple as sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, sitting at a desk–they kill me. Help? Call the chiropractor, Bessy.
Anyway, this weekend, Trent y yo will be returning to the Dirty Bluffs to visit my parents and tackle my dirt bag dog Alan. I can’t wait. In celebration, my mom is making my favorite meal on the planet, apricot chicken. Get some good bonding time in, visit some friends, you know the routine. I am pumped.
Whirlyball time. First laundry time, then whirlyball time. Stop being so picky.
“She was probably like 24–that’s when they start trying to figure stuff out.”