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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ In case you don’t know me personally or via social media and I haven’t yet overwhelmed you with my enthusiasm for Wednesday-Thursday’s gold medal hockey game, let me drop the puck on this blog like so:

~~ She’s laughing so hard those around her start doing the same. As I couldn’t hear what triggered it, I ask someone at the fringe of the group what’s so funny. Suddenly, she becomes serious. “I have no idea. I have no idea at all. But it felt good to laugh.”

~~ A woman is telling three people about her new kitchen and starts showing photos. “Where’s the microwave?” asks one. “It’s built in underneath,” comes the reply. “I hate microwaves above the stove.” A participant in the conversation says, “Nobody has microwaves above. It’s just not done.”

I’m a loser: 


~~ He asks me for directions to a place I’ve never heard of, and I tell him that. He looks crestfallen, so I inquire whether he has GPS or maps on his phone. “Nah, I don’t trust them,” he says. “But you’ll trust a woman with zero sense of direction over something that is designed to find places?” “Geez, have a little confidence in yourself,” he says as he pats my shoulder in response.

~~ She: Ever since they took G-d out of schools, things got worse.
Me: When did they take G-d out of schools?
She: [Sigh] You know when.
Me: OK, let's say it was just before Columbine. Does G-d wait outside schools and say, "I'm omnipresent, but they won't let me in"?
She: You're not getting anywhere being disrespectful. Kids need to be taught about G-d in school.
Me: Wouldn't that make churches redundant?
She: [Exasperated sigh] Why do I talk to you?

~~ Let’s visit Dementia-ville for a bit. The aide who sleeps frequently throughout the day, only arising from her lethargy if you call her or the patient shrieks, has sluggishly departed. Making a return appearance is the aide whose non-stop talking effortlessly drowns out the thunderous sounds of a white noise generator and sports talk radio. Combined.

~~ Just like the assault against my ears, the war on my nostrils has kicked up over the past 48 hours. Briny has morphed into gamy and adding to the scent of decay is a strong undertone of hospital ward (minus the disinfectant). Sometimes I wonder, will my life transition from the squalid smells of another to the creation of my own without any chance to experience anew the absence of stink?

~~There you have it. I’m living in my own version of a Judy Garland song:
Clang, clang, clang went the Creole,
Ding, ding, ding went the smell…

~~ But wait, there’s more:


Dasvidaniya. Have a good weekend!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
Sigh
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!
Bye-bye
LET’S GO METS!
Let’s get this started!

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