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Good Ole September by Ray Printer Friendly

You might have noticed it is September. I used to mark the month of September with the cooling temperatures, the beginning of school, and the anticipation of autumn.

I live in Austin now, and it's 2009. What this means is, school has already been is session for a while (started in August), because that's how it works now. What it also means is that there is no autumn where I am, and it's still 100 degrees outside.

As some of you know, I am married to a school teacher. Each year, she brings home piles and piles of germs from the dirty little bastards she teaches, and each year, I try to avoid getting sick. And each year, I fail.

Like right now, for example. She came home Friday complaining of a sore throat and general fatigue. I locked her in the bedroom and was careful to avoid her for most of the weekend. I took food in for her, I made sure she was comfortable, and I made sure that each time I left the room, I washed my hands. It was easy to remember, because each time, she would croak out, "Be sure to wash your hands." As if I needed reminding. I was being extremely paranoid, because the shit she brings home has super powers. She teaches first year students, and a lot of them are straight from Mexico. These kids are apparently adorable and lovable and about as biohazard as you can get without Dustin Hoffman showing up.

Sunday night, I look over and see her putting the water pitcher back in the refrigerator.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Did you wash your hands before you touched that?" She looks down at the pitcher, at her hands, and back up at me. She gives a guilty little cringe, which means I'll be feeling like shit in no time.

"I was so concerned about you washing your hands that I forgot about me," she tells me.

"So all weekend?"

Another guilty look. All day long I had been trying to convince myself that the itchy throat and runny nose was just allergies.

Monday morning, I woke up feeling like someone had taken a crowbar to the inside of my body. Today, I'm feeling a little better, but still like a well-beaten sack of goat crap.

Which is a really great way to start the month. Because why even screw around with optimism? It's like having a new neighbor move in and the first thing he does is take a dump on your sidewalk and throw a rock through your windshield.

"Heya--I'm Septembah. Ya new neighbah. I'll be heah a month, and you ain't gonna enjoy it."

"Oh. Well, um...nice to meet you?"

"Whatevah. I also killed ya cat."

Good times.

As far as site news goes: I don't really have any. I've got a couple of little projects I'm working on, but I don't if they'll come to fruition. Also, I might mess around with our shirt shop a little, maybe get some new designs and do away with the old ones. Like you guys give a shit. What I need to work on is some Strangelands sex toys.

That's where the real money is. And on that note, I'm out--have a good month, Strangelanders!


posted 9/01/09


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