My Thumbs Hurt

Ow. Seriously, they do hurt.

Saturday night we went out to dinner (which is the grown-up version of going out and getting smashed, only now it comes with an appetizer and costs over $100) with another couple; 1/2 of which is an amalah.com regular reader, which means I love her dearly. I gave her blogcards, we dicussed how this photo was seriously and honest-to-godly not staged, we discussed what one should do when a coworker reads your blog and then has the nerve to steal a joke from it, word for word, during a meeting, in front of you. And we talked Simpsons.

Now people, I have seen every episode of the Simpsons at least a dozen times. I TiVo three episodes a day and watch each and every one. I can recite long strings of dialogue and have a scary gift of recall...that is, I can come up with a Simpsons reference for absolutely anything.

"Ooh look, they have homemade eclairs for dessert here."

"Hee, hee."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking of the time Homer became a food critic for the Springfield Shopper and gave all the restaurants bad reviews so the owners decided to kill him with the Giant Poison Eclair at the Taste of Springfield Festival."

"Was that the one where Homer went on the acid trip after eating too much?"

"Oh no, that was the Springfield Chili Cook-off when Homer ate the Guatamalan Insanity Peppers after coating his mouth with candle wax. And Johnny Cash did the voice of the fox in his vision quest. He died you know. Very sad."

(Silence.)

So where was I going with this? Oh yes. So first, it's amazing that I have any friends at all. And second, why in the deep blazes of hell didn't any of them buy me the Simpsons Hit & Run Playstation game for Christmas?

Because they all suck, except for the people we had dinner with on Saturday, because they lent me their copy.

And this is why my thumbs hurt today. I played that #*$(@ game all day yesterday and it is hilarious. This game is like crack to the Simpsons addict. I am rewarded for my unhealthy obsession at every turn (seriously, turn right out of the "Secret Stonecutters Tunnel" and you'll pass Chester J. Lampwick's solid gold house. Hee!). When leaving on a mission with Apu, he says, "The last time I left the store hoodlums put pornography in all the bridal magazines." And when you ring Flanders' doorbell he says, "Is that you, Lord?" And Marge yells, "Canyonero!" when you do something reckless, like run over Chief Wiggum.

Anyway, it's fun. But I'd let my PS2 calluses go away after getting hopelessly stuck on level two in Grand Theft Auto 3 and exhausting all the amusing cheat codes and eventually getting bored of all the mayhem.

So ow, my thumbs hurt. Did I say that already? Like, more than once? Sheesh, I'm so determined to end this post in a circular-"reference the subject line at the last minute"-sort-of-way that I've totally lost my train of thought. That game has warped my fragile little mind! My pockets hurt! Run Marge! Pump those crazy legs!

And now I'm mixing South Park and Simpsons quotes. I've got nothing. It's time to go home people, it is just time to go home.