2007-06-08 - 7:47 a.m.

So it hailed supercrazy the other day. It's true. You don't believe me, do you? No, no, it's ok. I understand. I'm not always a wellspring of honesty. I'm the one whose mother and boss both spotted the same t-shirt in TJMaxx at different times and told me, "Zach, I found the perfect t-shirt for you!" It's a brown t-shirt with baby blue lettering that says, "I'm Probably Lying". I own it now. But that's neither hair nor bear! The point is that it hailed like a muffinraker the other day and it frightened me right down to my bones. (Or at the very least, the pipe cleaners that double as my bones.) So you want proof, eh? Fine! Proof it is!

Exhibit A:

This was taken at work when they sky grew dark and we expected frogs and locusts and blood and all sorts of biblical bric-a-brac to start velocitating from the heavens! The weather lady on the channel of weather had suggested that the hail would be the size of baseballs. Baseballs! Like the equipment they use in America's Pastime! Mo said it would only be as big as quarters. Mo lived through the Spanish-American War, so who were we to disagree with him? Well, it turned out the hail was defintely smaller than base-a-balls, but bigger than quarters. They were sort of hail sized. Anyway. In Exhibit A, you can clearly see Little Nick risking his life/ass to venture forth and see if he could get his butt hit with hail. He succeeded. (It wasn't a very suspenseful outcome.)

Exhibit B:

This is probably 5 or so hours after the first clip was taken. The hail stopped and it got light out again. But then, like so many cats, the hail came back. It didn't want to roam. So from the supposed safety of my own bed, I took a small clip of the returning hailery. I was pummeled to within an inch of my life - as you clearly saw. Cards/Donations can be made to the ZQF Hail Relief fund. [Well, of course, that is to say, if one's donations aren't already earmarked for far more extravagant, luxurious, top ten deadliest snakes in the world, type of donations. just. Sayin'. IS. ALL.]

Exhibit C:

In the midst of this hellacious hail storm (we're back to work time now - I can't be bothered to do this in chronoillllogicallesque order) some mole type customers come traipsing in and DEMAND a pedal boat. Immediately. It's the Storm of the Fucking Century out and instead of them just sitting on their porch with some nice spiked lemonade and Dave Brubeck while watching God rain his justice down upon us they have to come to MY work and make me WORK. And DO STUFF. Which normally would be fine. But I probably have failed to mention that it was raining white ball bearings from the sky and lightening was striking all over the place. ALL over the place. (Seriously, it was everywhere) Also, I'm tall. Also, the pedal boat has metal pieces on it. Also, the pedal boats are stored in a swampy area already made more swampy from the storm. Also, they're under power lines. Also, I decided it wasn't enough to risk my life but to risk Matt and Jamie's too. Aren't I nice? I think 'Exhibit C' shows sufficiently how it all went down.

Anyway. It hailed a bunch the other day and it was kind of cool in an End Times sort of way. But now it's sunny out. And I like to sleep with the window open evn though I don't have a screen. It's safe to do that at night because that's when the bees are sleeping.

It's been real,

Injun Joe

ps - New Quotes on the Quotes Vol. 3 page! Check 'em out. They're quotetastic!! (The link, for those of you just joining us, is on the upper left of this page!)

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