One T-Junction Short of a Track

You know how some bloggers come back after a few days of not updating and talk about how BUSY, SO VERY BUSY they were, and you think, "I bet you were not really that busy." 

Well, I was not really that busy.

The other half of Noah's train table finally arrived, as did a bunch of Thomas the Tank Engine recalls-in-the-making train sets.

I should have known I was getting in over my head when I read the user reviews on Amazon...someone would complain that a certain piece had "two female ends" and thus wouldn't fit to form a circular track and blah blah blaaah, and then a hundred people would vote the review "unhelpful" and there'd be a series of rebuttals from Little Engineer in Little Rock and tommylovesthomas and hotdude4673 about how like, heh, the trains aren't meant to only go in CIRCLES and two female ends are actually really HELPFUL if you actually KNOW ANYTHING about TRAINS, unless you're like, heh, trying to replicate the track from the infamous Percy Saves the Day episode, which, heh, had a COMPLETELY BACKWARDS t-junction, like are we supposed to believe that was some sort of MAGIC t-junction? I mean, come on. Go buy some stupid cheaty wacky track and leave the fancy bridges to the REAL fans, loser.

Meanwhile, I was still at the "two female ends" thing.  Schwaa? And also, haaa? And also, why does that make me think of Fergie?

So I ordered some random (London, London) bridges and a track expansion set. I opted not to go for the the "buy this item with a DEGREE IN CIVIL ENGINEERING FROM PHOENIX UNIVERSITY" combo deal that Amazon thoughtfully offered, which was probably a mistake.

I have very literally spent the last 48 hours huddled around that train table, attempting to create a seamless track layout, failing miserably, drinking heavily and cursing. Always with the cursing.

Every attempt leaves me with at least one corner like this:

Go on, Percy. I dare you.

Percy's all, "Bah. And fuck you."

I have determined that I need to drive to the nearest hoity toy store and buy a couple specific pieces of track to finish our layout, despite the fact that Noah does not care in the slightest, and has instead been amusing himself with one 6-inch piece of track (that I randomly and heartlessly take away with each new layout attempt) and a plastic Tonka minivan for the past two days.

Yes, I fully realize that I'm being ridiculous.

And yes, I fully realize that the train set is his. The train set is not mine. I need to back away from the train set.

I think I have perhaps gone a little mad.

Sir Topham Hatt, totally sloshed again, is wondering how many damn bridges one stupid isle needs, and also how long it will be before he summons the courage to finally jump and end it all.

Yeah, it's true. Fucking stop work orders came in this morning. Some bleeding-heart pussy liberal discovered a nest and some rare bird eggs over there by the bridge -- no, not the suspension bridge,  no, not the toll bridge either, the sling bridge, over there, less than a foot away from the other bridges -- so for now, the track's ending here. So help me God, the union better come through this time for us -- my wife's been laid up on concrete blocks for months.

WANTED, ENGINE OF INTEREST: ENVIRONMENTAL DUMPING WITH MALICIOUS INTENT TO KILL RARE BIRDS. If you know the identity of the train pictured in this photo, please contact Sodor authorites.

"Old tires? Dead bodies? This isle sure ain't what it used to be," the sheriff thought bitterly to himself. "I gotta flip some track over to the roadway side so I can get the hell out of here."

Thomas has a Twin Peaks experience and meets his evil twin. "I think I can...DESTROY YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!" he said with a chipper glint in his eye.

"This is the worst disaster in the history of Sodor," the sheriff said, "A simple action switch track over yonder could have prevented this. It's like our entire community was designed by a backwards child. And wait...what's leaking from that cargo box...is that nuclear waste? Oh, the humanity!"

"Hic," said Sir Topham Hatt cheerfully, from his place in the gutter.