Man, I haven’t posted in a while. So I’m just going to have to tell you about my sais. That’s right, my FREAKING NINJA WEAPON SAIS. I bought them at the flea market last year — the same flea market where I’m pretty sure there’s a sign on the front gate that says you can’t sell weapons. And these aren’t rubber-but-realistic-looking practice weapons for little babies. Nah dude, they’re made of steel and the tears of dolphins.
So now I’m halfway to a life dream of owning all of the Ninja Turtle weapons. Dream big. But I have to hurry, because there’s a limited amount of time in one’s life where it’s socially acceptable to have deadly ninja weapons adorning the walls.
Dreams are milk. Some are full of fat and some are water thin. They’re sweet if you taste them in just the right way. Or they curdle and they expire. Some expire after childhood, like the one about diving into a massive ice cream sundae. Literally—like a swimming pool filled with ice cream. I mean, that’s a cool dream and all, but now you’re just lactose intolerant and besides, it would be sticky.
Some dreams expire because you give up. It happens to everyone. Don’t be too hard on yourself about it. Some dreams you forget, and then you remember, like waking up blank as a sheet, and remembering while brushing your teeth. Some dreams stop making sense. Some dreams cross paths and make you chose just one.
Ninja Turtle weapons are like that. Like if you want to do the parenthood thing one day. Because swords and blood and babies and stuff. So I’ve got to make it happen. Soon. A quest. I just have to find a bo staff and katanas. Except I don’t want to be boring and just buy them from the Karate Super Store. Which, by the way, I have no idea if that exists, but if it did I would go everyday and just randomly start karate kicking in aisle seven.
See, I want to source the weapons from the wild, just as I found the nunchuks and sais. It’s the difference between bringing a bottle of store-bought wine to a party and bringing one fermented with wild berries you personally sourced from the northern forests. Basically, anytime you source something from the wild, it impresses people.
Hey man, I bought these sais from a dude with one tooth at the flea market, where he was also selling a gallon-sized can of kidney beans for ten dollars, and I’m not sure if that was supposed to be an antique can for collecting or just a bargain for dinner. So. Are you impressed? Well? ANSWER THE QUESTION. ARE YOU?
The wife says she’s just impressed I haven’t accidentally lacerated my scalp yet. Fair enough. I’ll take what I can get.
We also had this conversation:
Me: I’m writing about my sais.
Her: What? Your size?
That went back and forth for about ten minutes. We’re like old people now. That’s cool.
Spring is coming, people. Yard sales and sketchy flea markets are happening. It’s time for me to make this dream happen. And then maybe I’ll knock off a few more on my list. Like learning how to make balloon animals. That would totally impress people. Party trick and popularity and unending admiration for life.