Toren Atkinson’s Absolute Blog

Yesterday morning at about 5:30 (of course I was still up, what kind of a question is that?) there was a car accident on the corner 12th & Oak. The worst accidents on that corner always happen between 2am-6am and you can guess why. Because people assume they’re the only ones on the road that early in the morning so they whizzzz around and run lights. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Anyway I poked my head out the window to see one guy crawling out of his car, and then I called 911, which was pretty exciting because I haven’t done that…uh…ever(?). It was funny that I was all nervous and unsure of what to say. They said “911 - do you need police, fire or ambulance” and I said “police and maybe an ambulance.”
“What’s happened?”
“Uh, just a car accident at 12th & Oak”
“I’ll put you through to the ambulance.”
She kept her word. The ambulance guy asked if there was anyone pinned or trapped in the vehicle and I said I didn’t know. He thanked me for calling. God bless his heart.

I wish it were a Star Wars art film and I wish it was called “I, Lobot”

I don’t usually get headaches. So when I woke up yesterday with a diller of a killer, the only thing I could think to do was to try to go back to sleep. We had house guests who were milling about so to minimize noise I had to close the door to my room, but that only led to Kodoserwauling (oh with such fondness I remember that little villa in the hills of Germany). Earplugs were required. Another catch 22 was the fact that it seemed especially stuffy in the room but to open the window to let the breeze in was to subject myself to traffic noise. So - it didn’t work for the longest time, but eventually I did get back to sleep and when I woke up at around 2:30 there was just a mote of residual lingering dullness sloshing around my noggin. It wasn’t bad but the whole experience definitely affected the rest of my day. At the hair-cutting party at Dalia’s I was constantly cutting into everyone but since the jibes I made were profoundly hilarious and hilariously profound I think I won’t go to hell for that. Other things yes, but not for that.

Other

terrible

things.

The haircutting party was fun, but I didn’t get my hair cut. Did I already talk about this? A good haircut cannot be undermined, to be sure, but in the same way that candles and kleenex are completely dispensible in my lifestyle, I consider haircuts to be a kind of luxury. They are not has high on my list of priorities, especially since my main employer is behind on their payments for the first time in living memory (the second-best kind of memory), and especially I can get a free “not professional haircut but certainly nothing to sneeze in” haircut at a moment’s notice. I would have felt bad for not supporting Andrea - the hairdressing diva who could do no wrong at the haircutting party - but after 8 haircuts in a row I would have felt guilty if I made her work any longer.

And what happened the day before yesterday? I watched Jason and the Argonauts with James and Marlo and James noisy lovebird. Oh, the clippedness of the wings. Water, water, what hast thou done’st? Marlo pointed out that “the children of the hydra’s teeth” (a quote from the film) would be a good name for a song. Good thing I’m writing that down for reference.