I was tired of looking at my ass…

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… so I thought I’d change up the look for a bit. It’s a pretty nifty template… though I’m not too sure how long I will actually have it up. Not too sure about the template not allowing text to be wrapped around a picture either. (EDIT: I have since found a fix for this.) It’s not driving me bonkers yet… so, It’ll stay for now. Whatever the case… here it is.. Tah Dah! So, what do you think? Too “girly” for the manly likes of me? LOL.

EDIT: O.K. I personalized the template somewhat… look at the top left. Oooohhh… Aaaaah!  (BTW… there are similarly structured WP and Blogger templates HERE.)

pic from photo.netOF LATE…

… I’ve been contemplating spoons… and forks. Forks… and spoons. Tis be a strange thing to contemplate, Lecram? Aye, it be. (replied the James Earl Jones voice in my head.)

You see, there has always existed a superstition in our household that if one or the other drops to the floor… a visitor will be expected before the day is through.

A fork for a male visitor and a spoon for a one of the female persuasion.

Now, before I go any further… the stories you may or may not have heard about me purposely dropping spoons in my younger bachelor days with the hopes that the woman of my dreams would walk into my front door are blatant lies… and ugly ones at that. Complete untruths. Slanderous tales. Really. (Besides… it doesn’t work… not when you do it on purpose… at least, that’s what I’ve been told… by an uncle… who is dead now so you can’t have his number to ask him.) However, if it were true… which it is plainly not (the story of me dropping beautiful sterling silver spoons, I mean) … it would only serve to illustrate how entrenched the belief of this superstition is in Familia de Sinun. Every family has some myth like that, don’t they?

So, for the past 2 weeks… for some strange reason this superstition has been curiously following me around. I hadn’t thought about it in years… until it suddenly popped in my mind. Since then, whenever an attack of the butterfingers does strike… and the result was a dropped spoon or fork… this superstition has played out with deft accuracy. Seriously… one hundred percent on the nose, accuracy… proving my quirky family myth to be… well, true. At least for the last 2 weeks. I never doubted it was. It’s a long standing family myth. It’s in our DNA and we take it for granted. Don’t even bother refuting it with your silly skepticism… to us it’s true.

Tonight the thought suddenly struck me… if I happend to drop a plastic fork or spoon… would it warrant a visit from a flake… or someone who had a boob job?  The probibility of this prospect made me recoil in fear and despair… but then it lifted when I remembered that I live in California.