It’s true, time flies when you’re having fun.
It’s also true that when you are sick, PMSing, months overdue for a day off, feeling stabby, bored, disenchanted, ready to disembowel the next person who announces they have a great ”ideal” instead of “idea” or would rather have the rabid, zombie weasels that live in LiLo’s crotch (how do you think they got that way?) strap you down Clockwork Orange-style and force you to watch a Steven Seagal movie marathon, sprinkled with Full House reruns while jerking out your toenails and then scraping them down a moldy, broken chalkboard than be at work, your day is never going to end.
*big deep breath…and exhale* Ahhh…
Stay with me now.
Forever on the search for a way to skip the aforementioned nightmare, MadamBob, KrazyKev and I turned to the crazy glue that holds us together (emphasis on crazy), smart-assedness, wit (stop that snickering) and the Simpson’s.
In the episode “Homie the Clown,” Homer goes to clown college and becomes a Krusty impersonator.
Lisa to Homer: If there has to be a bastardized version of Krusty, I’m glad it’s you.
After being let go without a ticket when he was pulled over and mistaken for Krusty, Homer drives around town getting free stuff out of merchants and winds up at a car dealership, demanding unsuccessfully, he be given a car free of charge, because he’s Krusty the Clown.
It just so happens the mob is after the real Krusty and shoots at Homer, the psuedo-Krusty, putting holes in the car he’s standing in front of:
Homer: Hey, what are all these holes? (points at bullet holes in car hood)
Car Salesmen: These are speed holes. They make the car go faster.
Homer: (impressed) Oh yeah, speed holes.
Cut to the scene where Homer is wielding a pickaxe and stabbing holes in the hood of his own car.
Thusly, we applied it to making our day go faster, resulting in conversations like this:
Me: Sweet Morgan Freeman this day is never going to end. I swear it took three hours to get from 1:00 to 1:15.
MadamBob: Same here. Which one of you has the pickaxe?
KrazyKev: Uh, I’m going to need it a little while longer…I need it to rebury the sewer main before the foundation people come out.
MadamBob: Just remember to bring it back to work with you, and for the love of a motherless goat, LEAVE IT WHERE WE CAN FIND IT ON MONDAYS!
Me: Or you’ll end up like the hobos at massage school…turned into lemon-scented carpet!
KrazyKev: Couldn’t you two get creative and use other implements, like the heel of a stiletto, a letter opener or a sharp stick to poke speed holes?
MadamBob: Yeah, but then who would we blame if the day still didn’t go any faster?
KrazyKev: I dunno, maybe take some personal accountability?
MadamBob: I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.
Me: For a long time, MadamBob eating popcorn at 3 o’clock would do it, but those days are over. And we both tried eating other things, oh how we tried.
KrazyKev: How on earth did one of you eating popcorn at 3 o’clock do anything?
Me: How does poking speed holes in your day work? We don’t question.
KrazyKev: Poking speed holes in the day works to create a thin boundary layer on the surface of the day, thereby reducing air resistance on the day, thus allowing it to travel more quickly. It’s just like dimples on a golf ball.
MadamBob: So the dimples on my ass from eating popcorn accomplished the same thing?
KrazyKev: I’m not touching that.
Me: Your losing weight means less dimples on your ass, which explains why the popcorn stopped working!
MadamBob: Mystery solved.
Me: Woo Hoo! Ok, now what time is it?
Yeah, I apologize for subjecting you to the insanity, but you people just keep showing up! You’re only encouraging me.
Now, where’s that pickaxe?