Nothing Else Makes Sense

I have a ghost that eats lug nuts

Well, for it to eat lug nuts, it would have to have corporeal form, so it couldn't, by definition, be a ghost.  More of a zombie, or vampire, or some other form of undead.  

Uhmmm...yeah.  So, "ghost" is easier to type, so we're going with that.  

I have a ghost that eats lug nuts.   

So, not long ago, I got new tires for my car.  They're awesome...you know...as tires go.  Strictly speaking, they're round, they have tread, and they fit my car...which is about as much as I really need.  When I was at the place which, for strictly Blag purposes, we'll call "Flamerock" getting them installed, the manager came to inform me that I was missing two lug nuts on my right front wheel.  This is strange.  A mere three weeks earlier, I had swapped out my snow tires for the regular ones, a process which involves removing and replacing all of the lug nuts on every wheel, so I was 100% certain that there were none missing at the time.  Three weeks later, and two of them are gone...from the same wheel.  Strange, but whatever.  I paid "Flamerock" an inordinate amount of money for two new lug nuts and went on my way.  

Now, I told you that story so that I can tell you this story.  

Last summer, the brakes on my car started making awful-sounding noises.  Since the brakes are one of the systems on my car that I really need to not fail while driving, I took the car into the garage to have these noises looked into.  An inordinate amount of money later, I drive away with lots of new brake components, freshly machined front rotors, an oxford comma, and blissful braking silence.  Fast forward to last week.  

Last week, the brakes on my car started making awful-sounding noises.  Since the brakes are still a system on my car that I really need to not fail while driving, and a system that I had invested an inordinate amount of money in less than 9 months prior, I took the car right back to the same garage.  I was all set to have an angry showdown over shoddy workmanship, poor decision making, or substandard components.  The noises, at least, were centered entirely on a single wheel, so that would at least narrow down the search for any issues.  The manager told me that they would look into it, and sent me on my way. 

Later in the day, I get a call from the manager, telling me that they had traced the problem down to two missing lug nuts from the right front wheel.  They replaced the lug nuts for an inordinate fee and the car rode in blissful braking silence once again.  They also charged me an inordinate fee for brake diagnostics, since they did have to do a road test and examine the entire system...can't really argue over that.  

So, in the span of a month and a half, I have lost four count-em four lug nuts from the right front wheel of my car.  This doesn't happen.  Lug nuts don't just fall off of a wheel for no good reason.  Either the wheel stud is faulty (It's not...the garage inspected those as well) causing the lug nuts to slip off, somebody is stealing them for all the reasons you steal two lug nuts off of somebody's car for, or the most logical explanation, I have a ghost.  Since my car spends over 90% of its lifetime in the parking lot at work or locked up in my garage, I can only conclude that it's the ghost. 

You're Lucky I'm Around To Write This Stuff For You

Is it bad luck to wish somebody good luck on Friday the 13th?

I'll just sit here under my horseshoe, if it's all the same to you. 

So, it's fairly common in theatre to not wish somebody "good luck."  The convention is to use the phrase "break a leg" in an ironic fashion, in which the performer will be able to acknowledge your wish, but maintain their superstition.  I'm okay with this.  Nobody really knows where this tradition came from.  Some attribute it to a 20th century journalist, others to Elizabethan times where applause was performed by the audience pounding their chairs against the ground.  (If you are enthusiastic with your applause, you would cause the leg of the chair to break.)  

Either way, it's now considered bad luck to wish a performer good luck, and I'm left to wonder whether this applies outside of the theatre as well.  I say it does, because it serves to further my narrative here.  So here we are, on Friday the 13th, the unluckiest of all days.  A day in which everything lucky becomes unlucky.  So, does it work in reverse?  Are things that are normally bad luck now good luck?  Is it still unlucky to wish somebody luck, or should I just go around telling people to break their legs all day.  I'm confused, people! 

Today's Blag Brought To You By The Number 4

Earlier today, I broke a mirror underneath a ladder while ignoring a chain letter email.  Should be okay, right?  

So, hello to all of you triskaidekaphobics out there, and welcome to Friday the 13th!  Jeremy's been spending his whole day killing albatrosses by spilling salt on them while they're under an umbrella.  It's not looking too good for him right now.

Today, we celebrate superstitions!  There are apparently quite a few of them out there that cause bad luck, and I'm not quite sure how many I can check off my list today, but since it's Friday the 13th, I figure it's as good a time as any.  I still have plenty of time to kill a spider in the house and whistle once it gets dark outside. 

All in all, I've learned a couple things today.  There are a number of places you can't hold your breath or are supposed to hold your breath, depending, upside-down horseshoes are a no-no, as are 50-dollar bills and certain arrangements of shoes (be it under the bed or on top of the table).  It's just too much to keep track of. 

On the other hand, most of these luck-based superstitions are pretty easy.  in addition to salt, it's bad luck to spill pomegranate seeds.  I don't have pomegranate seeds very often, so I'm probably in good shape here.  Peeing in cemeteries is frowned upon.  I seriously doubt I'll ever have a problem with that, or not being allowed to shoot a black rabbit.  So, I guess it all depends on how much bad luck the more unavoidable things give me as to how much bad luck I'm going to have.  These things aren't very well quantified (aside from the 7 years thing for the mirror), and I really can't imagine that all things provide equal amounts of bad luck.  Somebody should do a study and publish a chart or something....

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

Happy Paraskevidekatriaphobia Day, everybody!


Okay, so I checked the website you use to find all these goofy little obscure holidays, and this one isn't on it. What gives?


Well, Paraskevidekatriaphobia as everyone knows, is the fear of Friday the 13th. So even though it may not be a recognized holiday, it's actually strangely relevant today. I thought I'd just give a shout out to all my Paraskevidekatriaphobic friends out there.


Very thoughtful of you. Happy weekend, everybody!

Playoff Beards Suck

Please support my Sametime Status Petition to ban Playoff Beards.


Other than not looking all that great, I don't really see the issue. In fact, Some Other People seem to like the idea.


Since the Stanley Cup Playoffs get underway tonight, I've decided to take up this issue with today's Sametime Status. I have two issues with Playoff Beards.

1: They don't work.
The simple math of it is that only 6.25% of the NHL teams who grow playoff beards win the Stanley Cup. That is to say, every one of the 16 teams that make the playoffs grows playoff beards, but 15 of them fail in their quest to win. Why bother with a silly superstition that doesn't work 15 out of 16 times? It's kinda like a lucky dance people do at the convenience store when playing the lottery. Yes, I've seen this....it was horrifying.

B: The superstitious nature of it is all out of whack.
In the immortal and edited words of Crash Davis, "Don't [mess] with a winning streak." This is the purpose of Playoff Beards. If you keep the same shirt on, or the same underwear, or don't shave, or wear the same socks...you'll keep winning. Well here's the problem. You got to the playoffs by winning. And while you were doing this, you were changing your shirt, drawers, socks, and you were shaving. So now that you're in the playoffs, the superstition changes?


Well, I'm still growing a Playoff Beard.


Go right ahead...I'll be waiting with a pair of hedge clippers after the Finals.