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Song Stuck on the Brain: I’m Not Who I Was by Brandon Heath. I love this song. You can visit his MySpace page to hear the complete song. Watch the video if you have the chance, it’s pretty cool too.

I about fell out of my chair laughing when I saw this Garfield cartoon, Garfield is channeling Angel and unfortunately, I’m Jon.

Saturday night Angel was at my place and we were taking quizzes online. Stupid ones, like What’s Your Celebrity Baby Name and What Puppy Breed are You from blogthings.com. Anyway, it was around 1:30 am, and we were getting pretty silly, when I suddenly had the urge to sneeze.

“Man, I have to sneeze.”

Angel, leaning over my shoulder, turns and says, “ACHOOOOO!” right into my ear.

I said, “OOHHH, SHHHHHHH--!!!!” as my heart bungeed right out of my chest. I did manage to stop myself before finishing the phrase.

Angel is now laughing hysterically. Knee slapping, hysterically. “Well, now you don’t have to sneeze.” Chuckle, chuckle.

“No, but thanks to you, I now have to repent!”

That just made her laugh harder. I think she even snorted a few times. In the end we were both laughing so hard we were crying.

But it’s just that kind of thing that Angel thinks is funny. She LOVES to scare me.

“Man –hic – I’ve – hic – got – hic – the – hiccups!” I say between holding my breath and drinking water.

“Really?” Angel replies calmly (That should really be my warning) as she turns to me and says, “AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!” in her best Lioness voice.

“HOLY CRAP! You scared me to death.” I say, peeling myself from the ceiling.

“Yeah, but your hiccups are gone.” She grins and laughs. Mwa ha ha!

Yawn. “I’m sleepy. I want a nap.”

Angel calmly turns and says, “WAKE UP!!!!” six inches from my ear.

“Holy Cannoli!” I grab my heart and force myself to breathe. “You scared me to death!”

“Well, at least you’re not sleepy anymore.” MWA HA HA!

I can just see us fifty years from now, old ladies living in our two bedroom cottage with our dogs Jamal and Heffe. (Okay, you have to be in on the joke for that to make sense.)

“Sister, hic- I- hic- can’t – hic – stop – these durned – hic – hiccups!” I complain between pinching my oxygen tubing and chasing my straw.

“Really?” Angel replies calmly from her wheel chair. “AAAAARRRRRRR-th” (false teeth give you a lisp.)

“OH, Good Gravy! You scared me to death! Now I’ve fallen and can’t get up.”

“At least you’re not hiccupping anymore.” Angel cackles and calls 911.

I can see now that I’m going to have to invest in a pace maker at an early age.

A.

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