Sometimes Connecticut Isn't So Bad

This is pretty cool.


Double Your Pleasure

I know I haven't written in a while, but things have been a little crazy around here, as you'll soon see:

Bacon was on sale at the Food4Less the other day, so I bought it, along with some eggs, anticipating several delicious and protein-filled breakfasts of fried eggs and bacon. The first egg I cracked came with a delightful surprise: it was a double yolk! Double yolks are rare and, thus, lucky. Also, you get twice as much yolk in one egg, which is cost effective. So I was pretty happy.

The next day, I made another egg. Lo and behold, this egg, too, was a double yolk! That's like finding two four-leaf clovers growing next to each other! I was going to have super-good-luck, plus I had saved even more money. Again, I was quite pleased with this turn of events.

On the third day, I had yet another double yolk. At this point, my happiness was quickly turning into suspicion. Two double yolks eggs in a row might be a crazy coincidence that gives me incredible good luck, but three double yolks in a row is more than a coincidence: it means that there is something funny going on with the chickens that produced them. But I kept eating the eggs because I was hungry and I had already paid for them and money doesn't grow on trees.

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Crazy Egg #9 is (are) ready for its (their) close up.

I like my fried eggs as runny as possible, so there's no chance that I cooked out whatever crazy chemical those chickens had in them that made them regularly produce double yolks, which was probably then passed onto the yolks. Not like you can cook radiation out anyway, which is what I am pretty sure, based on absolutely no facts whatsoever, is what made those chickens so ridiculously fertile. All I know is, I ate almost all of those eggs before I decided that saving money wasn't worth ingesting freaky chicken chemicals, so I was bound to be affected in some way. While I figured there was always a chance that I would end up with some cool mutant power, lilke flying or shooting eye-beams, I also knew it was much more likely that I would get a third eye or some new arms or something similarly aesthically displeasing.

And then I was late getting into work the other day. My boss's boss ended up arriving at work before me for the first time ever, and pulled my boss aside to tell her that he was concerned about my tardiness, especially since he had just seen me at Starbucks getting coffee when I was supposed to be at work. Upon my arrival at work, my boss spoke to me about the importance of not getting caught by her boss at Starbucks during working hours, and at first I was like, "yes, you're right, that was stupid of me," but then I was like, "WAIT A MINUTE -- I DIDN'T GET STARBUCKS THIS MORNING!" For you see, I was late because it was stupid street sweeping day, which means it takes an extra half hour to find a legal street parking spot. Who, then, could my boss's boss have seen at the Starbucks? Surely it must have been someone who looked exactly like me, for my boss's boss wouldn't have said anything to my boss unless he was certain. I mean, it would be a real asshole move to tell on someone for something that you weren't even sure if she did or not, wouldn't it? Especially if you addressed this as a "tardiness issue" you were "concerned" about, when this person had no established pattern of tardiness up until that point. You'd really need to be completely sure of yourself there, or else you'd be a total dick, and no one in Hollywood in a position of authority is like that.

Thus, we have a paradox, with two conflicting truths: I had been seen in a Starbucks, and yet, I was not at a Starbucks. It seemed like an impossible riddle until I figured out the one and only possible solution: I had a double! And, judging by her established pattern of behavior of getting me in trouble at work, she was evil as well! This all seemed highly unlikely until I realized what exactly had happened: all those chemical-filled double yolks I had consumed had caused a double of me to form!

Concerned, I decided to talk to Evil Roommate about it, hoping for some advice or a sympathetic ear, as he has an identical twin brother. But Evil Roommate wasn't home, nor could he be reached on his phone. This ended up being because his cell phone had been confiscated by the police, because they take your things away from you when you get arrested and put in jail. Evil Roommate was allowed one phone call, but since his cell phone had been taken from him and it had all his phone numbers stored on it, he had no one to call. He hadn't even bothered to memorize his own home phone number. So no one bailed him out and then I could have talked to him about my evil double problem when he was eventually released on his own recognizance, but I sort of figured that he had more important things to worry about.

So it's been quite an eventful few weeks for me, what with getting in trouble at work for my double's trangressions, unsucessfully searching for her, and heading up Evil Roommate's legal defense team, which consists of me. Our strategy is to do some internet searches on how to get the lowest possible fine for a first-time offense of Evil Roommate's nature, because if Evil Roommate gets a big fine, he can't pay his rent. And Evil Roomate's rent is also my rent.

Things were weighing heavily on my mind, so one Sunday I attempted to escape my troubles by immersing myself in the world of newspaper comics. There, I saw a Mary Worth strip in which a character named Anna has a solo pity party about her fertility problems. You see, Anna's new husband, "Dr. Good," wants kids really really bad, but Anna is infertile and doesn't want to tell Dr. Good because she thinks he will divorce her barren ass because your new marriage isn't going to be that strong if it's built on a foundation of lies and half-truths, is it? Apparently, when Anna gets upset, she puts her hand in front of her face a lot, sinks down in the frame so that her chin gets cut off, has strange perspective issues with her ugly-ass yellow flower table decoration, and stands in front of her window that has a crossbar on it even though it's clearly established in the first panel that the windows of her apartment don't have any crossbars:

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Silly Anna! There's a quick, easy, and affordable solution to her problems these days! She needs to spend less time whining and more time shopping at the Food4Less, where freaky double-yolked eggs can be purchased at low, low prices that will solve your infertility problems -- by the dozen!