If you follow this journal, you know that October has been a long succession of disasters for Your Obedient Serpent. Many of them were car-related, and, of course, the climactic one, the destruction of my car on Halloween morning, was the proverbial bolt from the blue, the quintessential smite of angry divinity, if your metaphysics lean that way, or cosmic irony, if they lean in the other direction.
It's enough to prompt even the aggiest agnostic to wonder, "Why me? Who did I piss off?"
Well, I have a confession to make.
On September 15th, 2009, Jessica Simpson's dog was snatched by a coyote.
This was a minor news item, but one that prompted some small degree of amusement -- in part because so much of the "action" happened on Twitter.
We found one line in particular amusing:
Simpson, 29, has offered a reward to anyone who can reunite her with her 5-year-old, caramel-colored dog.
Quoth
halfelf: "It's like she's expecting a ransom note from the coyotes, or something."
One thing led to another, and, before the hour was out, "CoyoteLuvsU" had a Twitter account, and had posted the following:
Today, on the phone with my mother, I mentioned this gag. Being no great fan of either Twitter nor Ms. Simpson, she found it uproarious -- but then stopped, and asked, "So, when did you do this?"
"September 15th", I answered.
"Aha!" she said, wise in the ways of Old Man Coyote. "That's when your trouble started. You took His name in vain."
My mother has a wonderful Ominous Prophecy Voice, and it has only improved with age.
I confess, the logic is inescapable. Indeed, at the time, I said, "I am so asking for trouble by doing this."
Friday the 13th seems the ideal time to Confess and Repent one's sins before the Trickster.
Coyote, forgive me! I have taken Your name in vain,
and trespassed upon a Gag that was rightfully Yours!
The forces of Cosmic Irony have weighed heavily upon me,
and more heavily still upon my late, lamented Grape,
who has suffered in my stead. I repent of my sin,
and my hubris in attempting to leech your Yuks!
You know, when I first came into possession of that Little Purple Car, I asked the opinion of a former Aspire owner, who had rolled his on Interstate 5 a year or two before, and come out unscathed. He said, "They may not look like much, but they'll give their lives for you."
Indeed, sir. Indeed.
It's enough to prompt even the aggiest agnostic to wonder, "Why me? Who did I piss off?"
Well, I have a confession to make.
On September 15th, 2009, Jessica Simpson's dog was snatched by a coyote.
This was a minor news item, but one that prompted some small degree of amusement -- in part because so much of the "action" happened on Twitter.
We found one line in particular amusing:
Simpson, 29, has offered a reward to anyone who can reunite her with her 5-year-old, caramel-colored dog.
Quoth
halfelf: "It's like she's expecting a ransom note from the coyotes, or something."One thing led to another, and, before the hour was out, "CoyoteLuvsU" had a Twitter account, and had posted the following:
@JessicaSimpson WE hAVE YouR TAsTY tASTy DoG. DElIVeR 100 bOnz + 1 roDe RUnnEr To THE olD TRee In THE MeADoW. CoME alOnE, NO AnImAL CoNTRoL.
Today, on the phone with my mother, I mentioned this gag. Being no great fan of either Twitter nor Ms. Simpson, she found it uproarious -- but then stopped, and asked, "So, when did you do this?"
"September 15th", I answered.
"Aha!" she said, wise in the ways of Old Man Coyote. "That's when your trouble started. You took His name in vain."
My mother has a wonderful Ominous Prophecy Voice, and it has only improved with age.
I confess, the logic is inescapable. Indeed, at the time, I said, "I am so asking for trouble by doing this."
Friday the 13th seems the ideal time to Confess and Repent one's sins before the Trickster.
and trespassed upon a Gag that was rightfully Yours!
The forces of Cosmic Irony have weighed heavily upon me,
and more heavily still upon my late, lamented Grape,
who has suffered in my stead. I repent of my sin,
and my hubris in attempting to leech your Yuks!
You know, when I first came into possession of that Little Purple Car, I asked the opinion of a former Aspire owner, who had rolled his on Interstate 5 a year or two before, and come out unscathed. He said, "They may not look like much, but they'll give their lives for you."
Indeed, sir. Indeed.
I feel: 
chastened
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