I disappeared for a while. It was not on purpose, I promise you that. There is nothing I would rather be doing than being with you, my blogomaniacs. Approximately two of you were disappointed at the sudden shutdown of my blog. I believe that is only because I owe you money.
The question that everyone has been asking is, “What is that under my fingernails and how did it get there?” Of course, you answer that question yourself by saying, “Oh yeah, lunch.” Then you proceed to suck at your fingernail.
The next question raised is usually, “What happened to you?” The story can be long and tedious for someone to read. Therefore, I will not bore you with the descriptive narratives of the endless nights of orgies, wild adventures, and successfully turning
Indy Girl into a religious fanatic.
Getting straight to the point, I fell down a wormhole.
For those of you who don’t know, a wormhole is an opening in spacetime that could, hypothetically, allow you to travel faster than light to other parts of the galaxy or even possibly back in time. The geek in you will suddenly realize that I am talking about Stargate SG1 (every SCI FI Friday at 8:00 ET/7:00 CT). Well, my friend, this not some pansy TV show. This is real life and it was in my backyard.
The wormhole opened up under the old oak. I didn’t notice it at first. I began to suspect something was happening when, while watching TV, I noticed my children carry items out of the house but not bringing them back in. “What did you do with that electric mixer you just took outside, son?” I said.
“I threw it down the weird hole.” the boy responded.
Weird hole?
I followed my other son, who was carrying the hamster cage, into the backyard. A group of excited kids were standing around a spot of ground near the oak tree. As I got closer I became aware of a large hissing sound coming from the area. I only had to shove a couple of boys out of the way before noticing the large cloudy hole at the base of the tree. The clouds hissed and swirled around in a clockwise motion. This made me wonder, would the clouds swirl counter-clockwise in Australia?
My son raised the hamster cage (yes, the hamsters were in the cage) above his head in preparation to toss it into the hole. “What are you doing?” I yelled.
“Throwing the hamsters into the hole, duh!” he said.
“Well don’t!” Sometimes my children need to be reminded of the forceful power I have as a parent. As I turned back to tell the other kids to get lost my son threw the hamster cage down the hole.
The next few days were spent sitting on a lawn chair staring at the hole. Every once in a while I would look around the yard to make sure no one was looking, then throw a rock into it. My curiosity eventually got the best of me so I decided to try to find out what this phenomenon was. In an encyclopedia under the heading “Backyard Hissing Holes”, and right after the description for Katie Couric, I found out that it indeed was a wormhole.
Interestingly enough some people think that if one was to travel through a wormhole that a person could go back in time and prevent their own birth. Considering myself a sufficient scientific expert on the subject I decided that I would put that theory to the test.
You have no idea how hard it is to pack for a trip through a wormhole. So I pulled together some essentials (A bag of Frito Scoops and cheese) then walked to the edge of the hole. I closed my eyes and stepped out. I would tell you what happened next but my eyes were closed. Despite all their infinite knowledge, scientists have not been able to tell us what it would be like to go through a wormhole anyway. Which is funny because they will swear, with a nuclear warhead aimed at their heart, that wormholes really do exist.
It may have been my imagination but I would swear I was groped. It wasn’t a long lingering grope, more like a quick “checking you out” grope. It reminded me of that time when I went to the dentist and…
Another thing a scientist doesn’t know is how to control where you come out on the other end of the wormhole. When I finally opened my eyes I was looking up at the back end of an elephant. My surprise was only eclipsed by the surprise of the elephant.
By the way, I hate scientists.
My first course of action was to find out where I…no…my first course of action was to wash the elephant turd off me. Then the second course was to convince the elephant that it was not going insane. Do you have any clue how much elephant psychiatrists run? The elephant became very annoyed when the shrink told him that the human coming out of his butt was just a manifestation of his desire to have sex with his mother. He encouraged the pachyderm that spending $160 a month on some mood stabilizing medication would cure these problems. The elephant eventually joined scientology.
The third course was some of Emeril’s Brabant potatoes. They're Louisiana's version of french fries. Make a nest of these in the center of your dinner plate and plunk a thick grilled steak or Crispy-Fried Redfish on top. Drizzle with some of Emeril's Worcestershire Sauce. MMMMMMMMM…BOY HOWDY!
It took some time to find out where I was. I knew I was either in some city zoo or in Oprah’s living room. I was relieved to find out that I was in a zoo. Can you just imagine being in Oprah’s living room? *shiver*
The zoo was located in a large city. As I walked down the streets I became aware that I was definitely not in my own time. Everything looked…old. A chipper man (everyone was chipper back then…I saw it on the History channel once) was coming down the street. “Excuse me sir, could you tell me what city I am in and the year?” I asked.
With only a minor look of perplexity, the man said, “Why, it is 1959 and you are in Chicago! What a silly person you are.” He continued, “Never-the-less, even silly people can vote for me as Mayor of this great city! My name is Rudolf Blogger!”
I was stunned. This was my Dad. He was younger but the identity was unmistaken. In 1959 my parents were newly married with my dad being a successful politician. After some time of trying they finally had a child…me! They, of course, lovingly called me, Anti.
As the man was about to walk off, another man, a man dressed very dapper (they used that word in 1959), walked by and slowly stroked my dad’s arm. As he did this he winked and said, “Are we still on for tonight, my love?” My dad looked warily at me and whispered to the man, “Yes, yes. I can’t wait. Now get out of here!”
I was stunned…again. This time it was a different type of stun. A stun that would make the unstunnable, stunned. “YOU’RE GAY!?”
“Why yes! I am very happy! Now remember to vote for me!”
The word “gay” has changed a little since 1959. I asked differently, “YOU’RE A FLAMING HOMOSEXUAL!?”
Chicago, being a very big city, (So big that it requires a large dot on a map) has a lot of people. All of these people turned towards us and went into shock.
Needless to say, my dad lost the election. He was shamed and humiliated. The divorce from my mother took 2 days to finalize. As the judge signed the papers my presence was wiped out of existence. With that, my blog ceased.
I don’t know how it happened or how long it was (go ask a scientist) but I suddenly found myself on that same street in Chicago face to face again with my father. I was re-living the previous experience exactly as it was before. Only this time, just as the man was touching my father’s arm, a hamster cage came out of nowhere hitting the man on the head. The impact killed him instantly.
My hamsters gave me a look of, “You owe us, idiot.”
I grabbed their cage and ran back to the zoo.
I am not sure how many years of therapy the elephant had to go through, but the hamsters and I crawled up his butt and made our way back to our own time. We popped out of the wormhole in my backyard just as one of my children was about to throw in our water softener.
The wormhole soon closed itself leaving me to ponder on this experience. The first lesson I learned was that scientists suck. Sure, I was able to prove the theory that I could go back in time and prevent my own birth. But, it wasn’t like I met my mom who falls in love with me and I have to try to get her to fall in love with the high school geek. That would be cool. Therefore, it became my mission to go to every scientist and give him or her a wedgie. Except to Stephen Hawking. It is difficult to give a wedgie to someone in a wheelchair.
The other lesson I learned is, if a wormhole opens up in your backyard, throw the hamsters in first. Sure, hamsters rule the world now (the Lincoln memorial is now the ‘Skippy the Hamster’ memorial), but they will save your life. They especially will if you regularly clean up the poop in their cage.
It is good to be back.
