Remember that book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?

I had one of those on Saturday. Not the book. I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. One of those days where nothing truly traumatic actually happened but a whole bunch of minor annoyances just kept piling up and after a while it started to seem like someone must be playing a joke on me. Like, how can my purse break and pour marbles all over the sidewalk twenty seconds after I trip on a hose that is being used to put out a fire caused by the lightening that hit my uninsured car? Also, why am I carrying a purse full of marbles?

I got up, EARLY mind you, on Saturday to go for a four-hour bike ride. Because Ironman. And because scared.

I hopped onto Paul Cyclemon and began riding. Eleven minutes later, I hit something with my bike and got a flat.

"No big deal!" I thought. And I quickly changed the tube like an old pro. But, like an old pro who is really slow at changing tubes on their road bikes because he's not actually an old pro.

And I continued riding. A few minutes later my water bottle flew out of its holder and began rolling down a hill. I chased it. With bike shoes on. Which are basically like reverse high hills. Because the heel part is at the ball of the foot.

I continued. Bugs were hitting me in the face. I dropped my handful of gummy treats. A dog ran in front of me and almost caused me to crash.

One thing after another after another after another.

And then it happened. The worst thing that could possibly happen in the history of all world happenings. Worse than Leotrix sleeping in my bed with me. Worse than The First Eye having a twin. Worse than . . . ok. I almost said "worse than Glee getting renewed for a surprise season."

Too far, Eli McCann. Too far.

But ALMOST worse than that!


It was like twelve feet long. It was in the middle of the road. I didn't notice it until it was too late. It made a noise as each tire went over its mid-section. It stared into my soul and remembered my face from when it had lessons in Hell before coming to this Earth where each evil spirit was assigned to torment a certain amount of humans before being given a snake body.

I screamed when this happened. I truly and really and absolutely SCREAMED. I did not even know that my body was capable of making the sound that came from the depths of my soul and through my mouth for the next twenty seconds. The government has been trying to capture me to test me for science ever since I screamed the way I did on Saturday.

They are already writing about it in the children's history books.

I couldn't believe that this had happened to me. To innocent little old me. Just a sweet little guy out for a nice bike ride on a beautiful Saturday summer morning.

Snakes are pure evil. There is nothing ok about them. And by the way, why does everything evil start with an S?! Snake. Spider. Satan. Squeen of Colors? DID THE GOVERNMENT THINK WE WOULD NEVER NOTICE THIS?


As I attempted to recover from the trauma I had just endured, I hit a large rock that sat in the middle of the bike lane.

My phone and keys and wallet came flying out of various bags that were secured to my bike, landing loudly in the road as I continued to descend a steep hill. Attempting to correct the shaking of the bike from hitting the large rock, including the instability now caused by a destroyed front tire, I was abruptly thrust forward over the top of Paul Cyclemon, landing flat on my back in the grass running along the side of the road.

I could hear the awful noise Paul Cyclemon made as he bounced ungracefully down the hill.

I thought I was dead. I was sure that this was one of those things where I was going to sit up out of my body and realize that I was stuck on Earth because I have unfinished business. Because there are still more seasons of The Good Wife to watch.

But somehow, there was not a scratch on me. I was safe. And it was a miracle.

Paul Cyclemon was not so lucky. He suffered severe damage.

I retrieved my things on the hill, horrified that that snake was going to come seek its revenge, and praying to the good Lord that my running over it KILLED the thing.

And no I would not feel bad if the snake was killed when I ran over it. As a matter of fact, I think that the fact that the President of the United States has not personally called me and awarded me with a Medal of Freedom yet is proof that our nation's leaders are focused on the wrong things.

I happened to be near a bike shop, so I walked Paul Cyclemon into it. There I spent somewhere around $347,892.16 buying things to repair the damage he sustained.

For reasons that I can't understand, the bike shop did not have any bags to carry my many purchased items. So I awkwardly held them in a bunch while also trying to carry Paul Cyclemon the four blocks back to my house.

When I got inside, I flipped on the TV. They were showing a documentary on pythons.

~It Just Gets Stranger