My Internal Filter Turns Off at 10

Saturday night a few friends were over at my house playing Apples to Apples. I enjoy playing it in reverse (draw a red card and everyone plays a green card to describe it). Now, I had been packing most of the day, Megan was with her parents for the evening, and my brain was mad at me for not giving it a break from training.


I was tired.

The red card was “stubbed toes” and I don’t remember what my card was but my buddy Ethan played “refined” to described the stubbed toes.

He won.

All of us got that look that wonders how it happened, why it happened, and in what universe that could ever hold something vaguely resembling rationality.

My brain made it up for them, just to spite me. Picture me dropping two different Downton Abbey accents and having this dialog with myself, out loud:

Ah, Lord Furniture Leg, how are you this fine night?

LFL: Earl of Big Tow, all goes well, though I’m afraid we’re supposed to engage in an altercation

EBT: Really? An altercation? Dear me are you quite certain?

LFL: I’m afraid I’m quite sure. I’m terribly sorry.

EBT: Ah, well, we all do what we must, don’t we? I’m sure there’s no animos-

(Lord Furniture Leg punches the Earl of Big Toe in the face)

LFL: Good gracious that must have been quite a wallop

EBT: It certainly was. Well done, Old sport. I’m going to remember this for some time. I daresay I’ll have to tell Lady Flip-Flop all about it in the morning.


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