Dear Russian Meteor,
So after a night spent out on the town with friends and participating in a game called speed dating also known as the Chico bar scene which actually felt more like being a customer at Walmart on Black Friday trying to cage fight your way to that last $100 flat screen TV being that the active ratio of eligible suitors was 5 guys for every eligible girl. (This also included the few cougars that decided a better spot for their wedding ring was in their pocket but this column is to short to indulge in that today) I once again found myself back home on my couch enjoying some late night paleo friendly eats while being consoled by the four legged therapist who rents a small studio on the back patio and simply goes by the name Cosby (I’m thinking he played soccer in South America at some point and time to earn that designation). Usually my routine after this is simple; pass out on couch till it’s almost time to wake up then drag myself to bed and sleep with the TV on until its time to get up. On a routine morning in usually entails opening my eyes to the local weatherman telling me it’s going to rain even though sun is beating down on my face through my sliding glass door or Matt Lauer acting like a pompous ass while knowing that Katie Couric’s back still hurts from carrying him all those years. This morning I was throwing a Barry Zito pre-2004 curveball when I opened my eyes and looked up at the television….A 10-TON METEOR HIT A RUSSIAN CITY!!?? How does this happen in this day and age of technology do we not know in advance that something this big was going to explode over a large city and thus putting every Russian window installer into a much higher tax bracket. Is this your way of telling the Hollywood studios that instead of putting a geriatric Bruce Willis in Russia screaming yippee kay yee every time he checks his adult diaper and it’s dry in what I think is the latest installment of the Die Hard series that they should have put him, that guy who we are all still wondering is always standing next to Matt Damon at the Oscars and the rest of their band of misfits in space with a nuke and a bad script trying to stop you? If so Russian Meteor well played my friend, well played. The ball is in your court now Hollywood and I know that a certain former governor with a catch phrase and a bad choice in maids is standing in an unemployment line somewhere waiting for one more chance.
PS. The sun is shining and the weekend is calling so enjoy yourselves this weekend peeps and pay it forward, good karma is always something nice to have on your side and remember…..Why doesn’t anyone carry an umbrella when it starts raining up in the club?