When I come to Myrtle Beach, will you teach me to shag?

The National Blog service has issued a Severe Randomness Warning for the duration of this post. Those in the path of this blog can expect widely scattered thoughts, which may or may not include such topics as Newhart, why the bank always asks for your mother's maiden name, and poke salad.

Since I haven't blogged in a few days, as you might imagine, I have quite a few things to talk about. I figured I could either divide them into several separate entries, or throw them all into one. Guess which one I decided to do.

In many ways, the past few days are a perfect microcosm of my life. Friday night, I hung out with three lovely ladies. (I know this same routine every weekend must get old to all of you.) OK, perhaps I should mention the three ladies were my aunt who always gives me $10, another aunt, and my Mom. We went out to eat for other aunt's birthday.

After that, we hung out at K-Mart, sorting thru the discounted Christmas merchandise until the break of 9:00 PM. OK, really just 8:30, but that sounded kind of early. I looked for a new Festivus pole, but they must have been sold out. I got a new Christmas tree at 75% off.

In other news, it looks like the the Darryls and I will be going to Myrtle Beach for our annual beach trip this year. I brought up the idea Saturday night. And since the Darryls never make any decisions and pretty much go along with whatever I suggest, I guess that seals it.

On the homefront, GabeKaplan--the fish, not the actor--has been doing swimmingly. He's almost out of food though. And by almost out, I mean the box is empty. So for the past few days, I've been on my knees scouring the carpet for pellets I may have dropped. I really think I found the last two today. Guess I'll have to go to the store.

Yesterday, my right arm itched all day. I was afraid I might be coming down with another rash. I thought maybe I'd gotten into some poke salad. But then I googled poke salad and it didn't appear to be known for causing rashes, just potentially fatal gastrointestinal problems. Anyway, around 10:00 last night, I was scratching myself and a fabric softener sheet came out of my sleeve. That's not some magic trick I do. That's my life, in a nutshell.

And what about this weather? The temps have been in the seventies the past two days. I'm wearing flip flps and short sleeves. And I finally broke down and cut on the AC last night after getting hot taking down my Christmas tree.

It's like I retired and moved to South Florida, except there's no shuffleboard and I'm still having to go to work everyday. It's really messing up my Seasonal Affective Disorder. I can't even get good and depressed anymore. There are no seasons, I'm not affected, therefore no disorder.

I don't know what's going on, but I did pass a church sign on my way home the other night that said "Eternity is straight ahead." You know, it would really be helpful if they'd put some sort of mileage estimate on that. Do I need to get a bite to eat? Should I stop for gas? I don't start out on I-10 and see a sign that says "California is straight ahead."

Regardless, I just kept driving. I mean, I spent my Friday night hanging at the K-Mart, I'm crawling around on all fours looking for fish pellets, walking around in public with fabric softener sheets in my clothes. What am I clinging to?

"Down on Peaches Corner there are Good Ol' Boys. And Mother Fletcher's makin' lots of noise. They're dancin', shaggin' on the boulevard..."