Here it is, once again, Friday the 13th. This most unholy of holidays comes around at least once (and if we’re really unlucky, twice) a year. I am not fond, nor am I frightened of Friday the 13th. Truth be told, every one of my days have been Friday the 13th worthy lately. It seems like Jason has been following me around for so long, lurking in the dark and behind obstacles, he’s starting to feel like one of the family. If he’d just show his face (cough cough) I’d ask him in for tea. Laced of course, as I’m not one to be outdone by a dude with a mask and an attitude.
Don’t be frightened, however, as I’m not headed toward the dark side. Unless, of course, my host looks like Morticia from The Adams Family. Then where do I sign? Lucky man, that Gomez! Just visualizing him making tiny kisses up Morticia’s arm while speaking French in an American accent was a real turn on. Not because I wanted Gomez to do that to me. No, I wanted to BE Gomez!
Gomez, aka me: Je t'aime belle femme. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.
Morticia: Oh Gomez….er I mean Terri! You rascal you! More More !
Now where was I ? Sorry, I went away for awhile. Oh yes, Friday the 13th. I was trying to make it a happy-memory day by fantasizing, which is my usual go-to-technique for happy memories. That’s why I’m so good at making up stories…because I can fantasize like crazy. Not much I can’t imagine if given the opportunity and the mood. And sometimes a marital aid or two.
Let’s just move on, shall we ?
As Friday the 13’s go, this one is not so bad. I’ve had worse. One year I was in a rollover in Utah with seven other people in a van, ended up in intensive care with compression fractures and was out of work for months. A few years later, again on Friday the 13th, I was back in intensive care after having a blood pressure trauma, which is just shy of a stroke. Don’t cry. I’m fine. But where were you back then, when I needed you ? Hmm ?
Yes folks, not a big fan of Friday the 13th. But like I said before, I’m not afraid. It’s just another day. I just don’t go out in public, shop, work, exercise, walk under ladders, pet cats (any color), look in mirrors, step on cracks, play the lotto, or attempt to get frisky (don’t ask). What ? It doesn’t hurt to play it safe. I also hide all sharp objects and lock up the knives, just in case someone goes all exorcist and needs validation. Hell, I’m not even Catholic so leave me out of your demon-extractions, thank you very much !
I’m just doing a little preventive Friday the 13th..ing. Don’t judge. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Some people set up alarms along the perimeters of their homes, dig moats and fill them with paranha, wear garlic necklaces and bullet-proof vests, and even invite their in-laws for sleepovers. Why the inlaws, you ask ? Obvious. So they’d have someone to throw on the lawn for a sacrifice, to keep the zombies and wolves at bay.
OK, I reckon people don’t really do all those things in fear of Friday the 13th, but wouldn’t it really be cool if they did ? I’d invite them to do all those things at my house, then I’d charge admission. I’d be rich and have an excuse for an awesome party.
Any excuse for a party, right ? And on the menu : Pizza and wine for the live guests and worms and garlic martinis for the zombies. Party Party !
See, I told you I have quite an imagination. Having said that, I hope you have a lucky Friday the 13th, and I leave you with a bit of my really bad advice best poetry :
Beware of Jason, ladders and cats.
Stay out of dark alleys and don’t feed the bats.
Friday the 13th is just like any other day.
And if you want to press your luck, that’s ok.
But if you’re like me at home you will be hiding.
And into a wine-induced stupor you’ll be sliding.
Bring it, Friday the 13th cause I ain’t skeered.
I live in Las Vegas. Nothing seems weird.
**Images from Google Images