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The Fisher of Stories

(Hey y’all! It’s TMI Thursday! This little bad boy was created by the ever popular blog cool chick LiLu, who happens to have more of these types of stories over at her blog. Just click on the picture of those two old people clearly enjoying what was an accidental Viagra overdose.)TMI Thursday

Well folks, it’s that time of the week. TMI Thursday.

I was kind of struggling for something to write about this week, and sat down to rewrite “Twas The Night Before Christmas,” for my good buddy Ed who’s going to have a vasectomy tomorrow. However, the words wouldn’t come, and I went to bed thinking I’d type it this morning. As it turns out, I didn’t need to.

Apparently, my cash and prizes can type. Now, I’ll admit, when I saw the spelling and grammar mistakes in this, I about went apeshit. However, any punishment delivered to my nether regions will directly affect me as a consequence. So I just gave them a stern talking to, (in the shower, so The Missus wouldn’t catch me talking to them) and told them that they were gonna do a bit more paying attention at school.

They pleaded with me to make sure Ed got this letter, and I don’t think I can deny them that. I tell you what though, this is the last time I’ll sleep with the laptop in bed. You see, in addition to this letter, apparently they typed a little something up for Jessica Alba, and SOMEHOW sent it to her. I don’t know how, but for sure, I got a call from her attorney this morning, and HE. WAS. PISSED.

You ever used the excuse, “My balls did it?”

It doesn’t work. And they didn’t bother to type me up a little something for the legal counsel that I’m going to need.

Anyway, without further ado, I give you: My ball’s letter to Ed.

deere ed,

this is litle travis and his testacals. wer’e reel sorry for whats abowt to hapen. we herd about it from travis. we cant imigane the pain and sufuring yur going thru. we dont think yu shood take it. we r sending yu sum plain tikits and sum mony. he dosnt no wer’e sending yu this EMAIL. THE LETRS GOT BIG AL THE SUDEN. HANG ON. ok. fixd it. neway, plez run away wen yu sea the sclaple salcple scelple big nife. it is going to cut yu and mak yu bleeds. then they wil tye yur juce tubes togother and mak yu not be albe tu hav the baibes. i hav herd of this befour form ohtr testacals. it iz vrey bad. come hoam and tel yur wife taht yu had itz dun. then uze the pul out methid frm hear on out. she wheel nevre no. aim four the boobs. if it cant bee avoyded, pleze no taht wee r tinking abowt yu and wish yu teh vrey best. sory four al teh spleling mizteaks. this is 2 tyme weve dun this. the 1 tyme wuz too mizter bobbit. we r hopping tings do beter four yu.


litle travis and teh simbols

Ed, buddy, I’m very sorry in advance. I hope the words from my bits were comforting to you, but listen.

I really need that money and those tickets back. The sumbitches apparently know how to use a credit card, and Visa isn’t buying the “My balls did it” excuse either.

To everyone else, let’s leave Ed a little sympathy in the comments, eh?

By the way, Brandee over at Think Tank Momma did a lil sumthin sumthin for Ed today too! Go check it out!

Today is the 4th of July. Before I get started on this post, I would just like to thank EVERY single one of the men and women who have died fighting to give me the glorious freedoms I have, including the one to write this blog. You guys and gals are heroes, and you deserve much more. Thank you.
It hasn’t rained in Oklahoma (this part) for about 2 or 3 weeks. Before that, we had nothing but rain for 2 or 3 weeks. It was depressing. However, it’s raining today. As I’m typing, I’m looking out my window, and watching the rain. I’m also watching the sparrows hit up my new bird feeder that I made, and also watching two gigantic doves try to muscle their way in on some food. I think the only reason the sparrows tolerate it, is because the doves are the same color. My point is, it had to rain today. If it rains out fireworks tonight, I’m gonna be wicked pissed.
The 4th of July runs deep in my family. We love it. My dad loved to spend money on fireworks, and he passed that love down to his 4 boys. Unfortunately, when you lose your job the week before, fireworks aren’t too high on your agenda. Normally we go to my moms house, and we talk her into giving us an absurd amount of money, and then we treat our family and neighbors to a show. The last couple of years, we’ve even gone to Arkansas to get bottle rockets, which are illegal here in Oklahoma. Why in the world they are illegal, I have no idea. Must be some fun haters in our legislature. “Snakes and sparklers, guys. That’s all.” Anyhow, I guess we’re doing the 4th at my aunt and uncles house this year, which is cool, because they have one of those 5 foot deep pools, and I’m fairly certain I can get my grandmother to get me some floaties.
Last year, however, we did it at moms house. Bottle rockets, M-80’s, sparkler bombs, the whole nine yards. It was so much fun. For nightime, we got a bunch of those cannon ball things. the ones you put in the tube, light the long fuse, and pray to God on high that the tube doesn’t tip over and send a flaming ball of patriocism directly into the lap of dear Memaw. Once again, my mother gave us a stupid amount of money, and we bought a crap ton of these things. We spent a good portion of the day just waiting for nightfall so we could do it up big.
As darkness settled upon us, and we started pullin out the leftover food and the homemade ice cream, my brothers and I started gettin stuff set up. Lawn chairs came out, and everyone assumed the neck back, head up position. And the show began! Everyone oooohing and aaaaahing. It was nice. The Liar and The Youngest set off the fireworks for the most part, with myself and The Groom doing the roman candles and the night time bottle rockets. Then they got stupid. It started with throwing the balls in the air, which is just dumb. Wait….wait….wait….wait…NOW! Anything that involves that kind of thinking is generally a bad idea. It moved on to putting balls that didn’t belong in certain tubes into those tubes so they could launch a bunch of them at once. My family is nothing if not show offs. This is where things went horribly wrong, horribly fast.
I have a cousin. His name is The Cryer. When The Cryer comes over, he cries. Inevitably, someone will make him cry about something. The fastest way is to tell him that OU sucks. Anyways, we often times bet on how long it will take him to start crying after he gets to the house. And I’m gonna admit it here, (Ang, if you read this, I’m sorry) sometimes we resort to some low measures for making him cry to win that bet. The thing is, what I’m tryin to say, he’s kind of a crybaby. Now that’s just keepin it real.
Back to our young firework engineers on that fateful night. They were keeping the box of balls and such right behind the table that they were shooting balls off of. This is a very intelligent thing to do, and a great time saver. For the most part, things were going good. Then they decided that they were gonna do two or three tubes apiece, and make six shots go off. I think they put multiple balls in the tube as well. Well, The Youngest can’t quite light things as fast as The Liar, and he kind of got in a hurry… He knocked over one of his tubes. The word “bail” doesn’t convey the speed in which they got outta there. They were gone. They didn’t really warn us that anything had gone wrong, but we made quite the informed guess when they were back up on the porch with us. And sure enough, it happened. One of those balls rolled right off the edge of the table and smooth into the box of other balls. This is what resulted.
I’ve GOT to give The Missus credit for that picture. The rest of us were duckin and runnin for cover, and somehow she snapped that off. It looks like that was taking place in the sky, but for sure, that was about 4 feet off the ground. She’s a picture gettin soldier. I’m so proud of her. Anyways, one of these balls shoots straight for The Cryer. It doesn’t get anywhere near him, but that was enough. Everyone is kind of laughin and still screamin over it, and The Cryer gets MAD. He just started cryin and punchin people that were laughing! I have never seen a more emotional response over fireworks almost killing someone. Sure he’s like 10. But so what! Get that stuff together! Anyhow, they went through the box after a safe amount of time, and shot off what was left. But it’s really hard to appreciate fireworks when you’re locked in the house for safety.
I hope you all have a happy and safe 4th, and I’ll see you back on Monday morning.
I mentioned “balls” a lot in this post…