This was previously published in my first incarnation of this blog, hosted by Opera, on Saturday, July 17, 2010, at about 6:50 am. I had had surgery the previous day to repair a torn muscle in my groin:
Why fifty year-olds shouldn't take drugs? Specifically, I'm talking about Cephalexin and Hydrocodone, while recuperating from surgery. I am flat on my back the afternoon after undergoing minor, yet excrutiatingly painful, surgery. My wife had to go to work, and so had left me with my phone and an ipod touch loaded with TextFree, under the dominion of my eighteen year-old daughter. You see, a flurry of texts to the Significant Other can take on a warlike atmosphere with the help of pharmaceuticals.
I see an ad for a type of drop bag like the ones used by the LAPD, and think it might be a possibility for the students in our family - my wife had retruned to college to complete her degree, and my daughter starts college in a few weeks. It has umpteen pockets and loops and snaps. I text Significant Other the particulars.
"70 pockets?!?" replies my wife. "Must have! That's enough for even the most anal retentive packrat."
I agree. After looking, though, I find the 70 pockets misleading. That's for the largest of the bags, with the ones on sale ($19.99) having more like 25 pockets. I list the bags, sizes, and various merits. I chuckle that the smallest is described as a "tactical lunchbag."
She replies: "Tactical lunchbag sounds like something the French Foreign Legion would use. 'Henri, bring out the strategic baguette.'"
Or maybe the 'assault baguette'?
"Antipersonnel Flan?"
"No, the 'Antipersonnel Souffle'. It collapses when stepped on and sucks everything in."
How about the 'SFC - Shoulder Fired Croissant'?
"Pate' Gas - it's deadly. Or Flan Thrower."
"I had gas after eating a pate', once."
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