Saturday, January 12, 2008

I Was with the Band...

I don't know how I made it for 12 years without it happening, but today I finally did it -- I lost my wedding ring. And it's all because I was trying to be a "good" father. I'm sure as fuck never gonna do THAT again.

The Old Lady had taken Miss O to a (nother!) birthday party, and I was hangin' with Mr. Z. His pal from next-door swung by and the two of them scooted outside to fuck around. I was in no mood to go out there and get roped into some fucking game of statue-maker or tag, so I stayed inside and sat on my numb ass. A little while later, I looked out the window and saw Mr. Z and his friend playing catch with the dad from next door. Sonofabitch! Of course that meant that I had to go out there and make a goddamn appearance so I didn't look like a complete asshead.

So I shuffle out there and they're playing some keep-a-way game and I'm like "ah, what the shit," and I join in. Now remember, I'm already a little thinner than usual 'cuz I haven't really had a huge appetite lately, what with the numbness and the stress and the flayvin. AND it was kinda cold outside, so my fucking fingers were already like mini pretzel rods. So, the ball comes to me and, like a complete dick, I do this big underhand throw over Mr. Z's head. The ball goes flying and then everything goes into slow-motion, as I feel the ring go rocketing off my finger and out of my field of vision. I don't know if it shot out one foot or 20. It was fucking gone.

So everyone gets down on their hands and knees and starts looking for the fucking thing. Oh wait, everyone except Mr. Z. He was complaining 'cuz nobody was playing anymore. At least he was until I made him feel really shitty about it and he half-assedly joined in.

An hour later, bupkus. On a whim, I called my pals over at A,C&E Rental (they of the "Water Cannon" fame) and asked if they had a metal detector. THEY FUCKING DID! I bolt over and pick it up, and then spend another hour and a half waving that worthless piece of fuck over the lawn like some treasure-huntin' dipshit. Neighbors walking by, me looking like I'm clearing the area of land mines. "Well hey there neighbor! Just looking for the ol' wedding ring! Yep, gotta find it before the Old Lady comes back. Heh, heh... [SFX: gunshot/me falling in heap on lawn]."

Never found the fucker. I'm gonna give it another go tomorrow, but there's no fucking way I'm gonna find it. Some gopher ran off with it or something. Using it as some sort of rodent cock-ring. I hope it cuts off the circulation and its goddamn beaver-balls drop off.

So yeah, if anyone knows someone who can get a fella a deal on a platinum wedding band, send 'em my way. In the meantime, I'll be out in front yard with the metal detector and a flashlight duct-taped to my head.

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