misery: i've underestimated my charm

alright, so i am back, but with good reason. the last time i blogged and you read my post i had ended my career as a blogger since i felt it was very unlikely that i would ever blog again due to the snow storm conditions that engulfed las vegas at the time. however, i battled the torrential elements of that evening as i crossed the one inch of snow that covered vegas' frozen tundra until i could go no further. it was then that i lost all hope of ever seeing my wife's sweet smile again and so i pulled over to await my icy grave.

luckily, i keep two sleeping bags in my trunk just to make myself feel more like an outdoorsman type. i grabbed the bags and tried to keep warm. i found a whistle that i started blowing just in case rescue trucks were cruising around looking for survivors. i turned on celine dion and listened to "my heart will go on" and reflected back on my life starting with one of my earliest memories of my parents telling me that the shadows on our back porch were actually grizzly bears. it scared me then and upsets me now. how could my parents lie to me like that when they knew that it would scare me? i would never scare my kids like that unless it's at seaworld and the employee dressed up like big bird scares colston so bad he screams like a little girl and runs for cover. one of the funniest things i have ever seen.

i was just about to answer the rhetorical question about my parents when i all of sudden felt the life slipping from within me causing me desire a long winter's slumber. then, just when i thought i was about to crossover to the other side, i saw a light... not that kind of light, but a flashlight. someone was outside my car. had they heard my whistle? who cares, i had been saved... so i thought. turns out the person who saved me was my biggest blogging fan ever. she was a fanatic... a little too obsessed, but i was happy to have her pull me out of my cold car and throw me into her warm one.

hypothermia had set in as had frostbite. i couldn't move my arms or legs and wasn't quite lucid, so my mystery rescuer took me back to her house. we drove forever and i was so disoriented by the time we go there i had no idea where we were. she placed me in a bed to rest and that was when she realized who i was... at least that's what she said, i have a feeling she had been stalking me. i was too tired to care and quickly fell asleep.

when i woke up the next morning, i was feeling much better and was ready to get home. but, when i tried to get up i couldn't. i had been tied to the bed. "that's strange," i thought as i surveyed the room a little more closely now only to notice framed printouts of all of my previous posts lining her walls along with all the pictures i had ever posted on the blog. what's more is she somehow had gotten a hold of the speedo video clip which was playing ona conitnuous loop on three tvs in the room. there were posters, t-shirts, buttons and flags for the cooperfive fanclub everywhere. she was apparently obssessed with my blog. i was somewhat flattered for a moment, but then it got a little weird for me since i noticed that some of the cooper paraphernalia was from pottery barn and it was to die for.

just then my rescuer stomped in the room and she was mad. gone was the warm, happy, smiley face that pulled my from my icy tomb the night before. instead a woman resembling chunk's mom from goonies stood before me ready to stuff my head into a blender. chunk's mom then angrily explained that she had read my last post after she brought me home last night only to learn that i had retired from bloging. she was furious for she, like many of you, found purpose and meaning in life through the blog. she depended on it, she needed it. it was her north. it completed her. she had been to rehab twice already because of her addiction to it. police had actually talked her down from the ledge on several occasions by simply reading the blog to her. and now it had been taken from her. well, not if she had anything to do about it.

chuk's mom demanded that i resume blogging on a daily basis from the bed i was in for the rest of my life. she then took a sledgehammer to my feet. that hurt. i didn't know what to do. i didn't realize the influence my blog had on my readers' lives since up until that night, i thought i had met both of them and they seemed to only read it because one of them gave birth to me and the other one married me. as far as i knew, chunk's mom fulfilled neither of those roles so she must actuallly like it of her on free will and choice... but i was so confused and despondent at that moment i didn't know what to believe. i told her i would comply with her wishes but only if she would run to the store to buy me some sticky toffee pudding ice cream. man, that stuff is good. so, she left.

at that moment i had a window... not the kind you can see out of or that serves as an operating system on your computer, but one of opportunity... and i needed to make the most of it. luckily, i am fairly strong for a desk-job man and was able to tear free of the makeshift bindings chunk's mom had fastened upon me. i then fell to the floor and dragged myself down the hall to what appeared to be a phone. upon reaching the phone, i realized it was a rotary dial phone. where most kids these days would panic at the sight of the now essentially extinct rotary dial phone and then cower with fear at the thought of actually having to put that much effort into dialing a phone number (assuming they would even know how to use it), i didn not waver one bit for i was well acquainted with the ways of rotary dial phones having had one at my parents' house up until only a few years ago.

my parents must have known that keeping that rotary dial phone for us all those years would someday come in handy. i knew they had raised me right. so, i went to dial 911 just like my son, caleb, always tells me to do when something as terrible as the tv not turning on happens. but just as i dialed the nine and it slowly made its way back around the dial i heard a car pull up. it was chunk's mom. i hurried and dialed the rest of the numbers but had to move before i could talk to the operator as chunk's mom had entered the house and was making her way up the stairs.

i started to return to my room but realized i wasn't going to make it and so i started crying. for the record, it was a fake cry, but it was enough for chunk's mom took pity on me upon seeing the tears flow. she then sat down with me, had a heart to heart over a bowl of sticky otffee pudding and she then let me go. turns out chunk's mom had an eating disorder. i listened to her talk about her issues with weight and insecurity and told her she was special regardless of what she looked like and if she ever needed a reminder, all she had to do was log on to the cooperfive for a reminder. we hugged it out and went our separate ways. now, one week later, i sometimes wonder what chunk's mom is up to and if she's making her way in this cruel world. she'd probably post and let me know if her fingers weren't so chubby that they hit more than one key with each stroke. that's ok, chunk's mom, i know you are reading. be strong. drop the sticky toffee pudding ice cream (drop it off at my house preferrably).

man, i've got charm and charisma. i mean, that's what got me into this whole mess in the first place, right? and it's definitely what got me out of it. this blog is like a charm magnet except that it doesn't attract charm like a magnet would, it attracts people to my charm and what's more charming than reading about someone bragging about their charm. thus, i may in fact be the model of a charmless man, but at least i have a brand new shirt to protect me.

so, my blog zombies, realizing the influence and utter joy that this blog has and gives to you and your lives, i have decided to retract my earlier post on blog retirement and give you all an early Christmas gift on this very Christmas eve: me. i just went through hell for you and i'd gladly do it again except that maybe i should put my nun chucks and light sabre in the back of the car with the sleeping bags for self defense purposes.

to finish off morrissey's line from the last post...

"this is the last post i will ever post (audience cheers), no, i changed my mind again (audience disappointedly sighs)...

goodnight and thank you."