Monday Excitement

WE HAVE AN AMMONIA LEAK!!

Sorry to yell that, but I've never had an actual ammonia leak, except for ammonia-leaking cats.  This is exciting.

Oh, sure.  We get our share of cool stuff here with weather-related disasters and the occasional race riot, but I've never been this close to an ammonia leak. 

I have a very easy commute from my Lake Tom lair to Job 1.  Left, right at the light, left at the next light, one more left, and I'm here.  This morning, there were firetrucks galore off in a bank parking lot, and the local gendarmes had one of my roads blocked off.  I thought I smelled ammonia, but I wasn't sure.  I cut through an unblocked business park, and made it to Job 1.  Overhead helicopters thrummed and circled, and I sauntered into work relatively unfazed. 

Thrumming, thrummmmmmmmming, in my braaaaaaaaaaainz.

Brains?

Stacey brought me a braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainz McMuffin from McDonald's. Cholesterol and ammonia.*

Amooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonia.

Such a lovely thing.  That's why kitties make it.  I can feel it in my braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainz.  The N's and the little H3's dancing around the maypole of my synapses.  I feel like a 1970's Stretch Armstrong doll.  Stacey could grab my arm, and drag it over to the cuddly VP's office, and I'd be fine.  She could let go, and my arm would slowly return to normal size.  This would likely frighten my coworkers.  I don't care.  Ammmooooooooonia.

It would be better if somebody did something, and all the H3's spun off, and the N's would combine with O's.  Why couldn't we have a nitrous oxide leak? We could all just giggle and giggle and giggle some more, then lie down for a happy nap.  Happy nap.

I can feel the helicopters thrumming.

I used to be able to talk like the Snuggles bear.  The Snuggles bear, in my estimation, was the devil.  I haven't seen him in awhile.  I think he was sent back to hell by a jolt of static cling.

Hard to believe lightning is caused by the same process that makes socks stick to each other in the dryer.

Everything is yellow, looking at life through butter pats.

If I were to reproduce, I would endeavor not to name my child a verb.  (Bill, Bob, Pat, Exsanquinate, eg)  Or an adjective (Frank, Randy, Priggish).  Or some nouns (Dick, Olive, Tits).  I just think that would be mean.

If I ran the world, with Ah-moooooooooooooooooooooooooooonia, I'd take over control of the Sunday comics.  First thing? Dennis the Menace and Charlie Brown? You're fy-uhd.  Prince Valiant would be deposed.  Also, that stupid Hocus-Focus thing, where you have to find six small differences between the two panels? I'd make them identical.  See how many people went crazy trying to spot the differences. Or find six nonexistant differences between the two things.

I went to a planetarium once, and the presenter guy said he was going to show us about UFO's.  I was psyched! He said to watch the UFO move, and there it was! It moved quickly, darting to and fro. Then the guy turned on the house lights.  The "UFO" was a lightbulb, firmly attached to the dome.  No way it moved. 

This trauma is why I drank.

I think this whole ammoooooooooooooonia thing is a karma slap for me not writing a Sunday Brunch yesterday.  I just couldn't think.  The amoooooooooooooooooooooooooooonia has mixed quite nicely with the brominated vegetable oil provided by my Diet Mountain Dew to form something like a really weak drug.  Something dumb and unbuzzworthy, like Alleve. Oh, well.

The ammonia leak has been capped.  I have four more hours of work, and by then my streets will be reopened.

It's been quite a fun morning thus far.

*-Turns out, Stacey actually brought me a Sausage, Egg, & Cheese biscuit, NOT a Braaaaaaaaaaaaaainz McMuffin. The s,e, &c were tasty; I gave most of the biscuit portion to the skwerls and blue jayz. 

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24 Responses to “Monday Excitement”

  1. Tom, I believe your brain is making its own gravy this morning. Stay away from dogs.
    Love that you fed the squirrlios and the jayz. So many people think of them as pests.

  2. Just don't mix any bleach with all that ammonia. I hear bad things happen.

  3. I dunno, I think "Tits Tomspawn" has quite a nice ring to it.

  4. It was more like mafia protection money: by feeding them, I was assuring they wouldn't peck/skwerl me to death. Yummmmm. Brain Gravy.

  5. I think "Tits Tomspawn" has quite a nice ring to it.
    I love you, L. πŸ™‚
    I agree, but probably not such a good name for a boy.

  6. Whew! Thanks for the heads-up. I was going to go for a hot cup of bleach on my next break!

  7. "Testicles Tomspawn"?

  8. That was supposed to be my name, but they switched to Tom at the last minute. Probably a good thing.

  9. Ah, yes. But oh-so-memorable!

  10. That's sounds like Tom's Lord of the Rings name.

  11. Lol! But … what race would he be?

  12. Tom, what have I told you about skipping your meds? πŸ˜‰
    So, I'm thinkin'… if you have a boy, you should name him Tits McGee. Come on, I got the cupcake tattoo….
    Thanks for the laugh, cowboy!!

  13. I'm thinking, one of the riverfolk. I don't really see Tom as an elf.

  14. Daitya, I'm sure. πŸ™‚

  15. Tolkien races, m'dear. Not Hindu mythology.

  16. Sorry, hon. I was just looking for somebody big and grumpy. (An orc was my first choice, but they're too short)

  17. Wait. You mean I'm supposed to take them every day?? ;-)It's funny you mentioned Tits McGee. In my bad novel, I mentioned a pornstar named Tits Magoo. Small damn world.

  18. If not "Testicles Tomspawn," perhaps you could combine my noun names in your next novel: Dick Olivetits at your service. Or Olive Dicktits. Just put 'em all on dice, and get out the Yahtzee cup. πŸ™‚

  19. Uruk-hai. They're bigger than orcs. And plenty grumpy. And love small blonde children for lunch.

  20. My next novel has various law enforcement people in it, I wonder if they should get those names?
    A coworker taught me the word "scrimshander" the other day. It's someone who makes scrimshaw. I immediately replied that it sounded like a noir detective name, as in Scrim Shander, Private Eye.

  21. Did you ever read Richard Brautigan? In "Dreaming of Babylon," his private eye is named C. Card, but he debates and ruminates over the name of his daydream character. His final choice is Smith Smith. Strange little model. lol

  22. Whoa. This is just weeeeeeeeird. Trippin' on ammonia. Brain gravy. Tits Tomspawn. :)I'm enjoying myself!

  23. Sadly, I think my neighbor's comments are better than my ammoniatizing. πŸ™‚

  24. Notatall, notatall, m'dear tom. I think was actually getting secondhand ammoniatized over here!

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