PASTOR,
Today is a very special day
Because
Drumroll please...
I'm waiting.
Once you have created some sort of quick rhythm you earn the right to read on. Don't tak reading my blog for granted. This is a very serious matter.
Quoting Josh:
"Honor system-go!"
Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls and apache attack helicopters, today is the day we go online! Actually tomorrow is, lemme explain.
I've spent the better part of the evening creating a website.
A blog
And all my articles are going on it.
Including this one.
But they're being edited to be less personal.
I might become rich and famous.
The website will launch tomorrow.
All of my friends will read it
and share it
and boom!
Before ya know it, all these bored people sitting at home with nothing to do will see my blog
And subscribe
It will be very Ooh la la.
As long as I don't kill myself like I almost did today.
Because today I rode 30 miles and 2,060 feet of elevation.
On an empty stomach.
And a bicycle.
There used to be a map of my ride above, but I had to remove it so the Evil Squeaky Toys don't find me.
I climbed a mountain.
I am very proud of myself.
About 25 miles in, I started feeling blah.
26 miles: very blah
27 miles: I had to pull over and lay down. I could feel my blood sugar dropping like a stone, I'm not diabetic but I couldn't go much farther I thought.
I called my nearest friend, who I hadn't talked to for months, and asked him if I could stop by for a sandwich.
Bless his heart, he made me a pb&j.
And it likely saved my life, if not my ride.
He was a mile or more down the road, but the sandwich called to me in many harmonies from his hand. I envisioned it there, dripping with overflowing peanut butter, cut in triangles, singing a tune of satiation and sweet, sweet chewings.
I could hardly find his house because a giant sandwich kept leading me astray. I was seeing mirages of meat and cheese, visions of Vada Pav, Hallucinations of ham (spelled ham, only ham, there is NO OTHER WAY TO SPELL IT [I am half Canadian, and the best way to mildly frustrate a Canadian is to use that other terribly inaccurate term that equates turkey to pigs. Not on my blog you don't.)
I finally made it to his house amidst optical illusions of rapture (my blood sugar was lower than my brainpower at this point) and received, with small tears of rapture, my beloved sandwich. I ate and talked with my friend, thanking him profusely for saving my hide and my pride (mom picking me up woulda ruined the ride [woulda rather died {my brain cells were fried}])
Anyway
That's about all that happened today, I watched that same reality show live except the same contestant wasn't buzzing anymore. He must've gotten over his nerves.
Before the services, we video chatted for sunday school and were as unproductive as usual. I turned off my mic and camera to go relieve myself, and no one noticed.
Well, PASTOR,
I guess I'm gonna sign off for now, because in light of soon-to-be recent events I'm actually writing this tomorrow and tomorrow is much more interesting.
You know the drill,
Trevor
P.S. I have no idea. I was hoping I'd have come up with a punchline by now.
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