a Guest Post

by

Golf Widow :

This would be a song, if I had any musical talent.

Or it would be a story about how I ninja'd my way into someone's house, snuffed them, exited, and was home in bed, asleep, before their Venetian blinds even swung back down, if I didn't think you'd all call 'bullshit' over the concept that I could squeeze my fat butt through someone's window in the first place.

So instead, I will tell you what happened to my poor husband the other night.

What happened to him was that I woke him up at about 1 am and told him that I had solved the paradox of how a binary solar system could fit the profile of having two suns AND having its planets form via the accretion theory (basically, most astrophysicists have accepted that planets form like snowballs, rolling around a sun and picking up debris along the way, but can't agree on how that accounts for Uranus and Neptune, let alone how any planet can orbit two suns at once), but since I don't know how to draw up the equations and also because I'm just a person and not a geekjob with a pocket protector and a slide rule tattooed on my forearm, no one will listen to me.

Then I started crying with frustration over this fact.

My husband felt of my forehead, determined that I was running a fever, and brought me some Tylenol and a glass of ginger ale with ice.

The problem is, I was dead serious about this. I really have figured it out. And no one cares except a bunch of geekjobs who won't listen on account of I'm not a geekjob, myself.

I should just learn guitar and write punkass music like the D-Man, after all.