The Unicorn Appears

Many moons ago, the LOML called me in a state of sheer, babbling wonderment…

LOML:  It’s just… I saw UNCLE RICO!!

Paneer:  WTF?  (distractedly)  We ain’t Napoleon, dude.  We don’t HAVE an Uncle Rico.

LOML:  (Sputtering)  It WAS HIM!  In little shorts and tall, striped 80s socks, flying over the hill on a bicycle!  He had a mullet, and a mustache, and…

Paneer:  (Pissed, because this is so not possible in his condo complex)  Stop telling fibs and move on.  Honestly.

LOML:  Why don’t you BELIEVE ME?!


Take Two:

LOML calls me AGAIN, with another ridiculous description of an Uncle Rico sighting…Knee high socks, tiny shorts, patentedly out of date t-shirt, mullet flowing in the breeze, zooming by on a bicycle.

Paneer:  Calling straight up bullshit on that, my friend. 


Recent night:

LOML:  We need a new movie.

Paneer:  Christ wearing long-johns, it’s 11pm.  (I am a damn old lady about being out after dark, unless it is a rare bar scene appearance.)

LOML:  Get in the car, hag.  (Perhaps, this is paraphrased.)

10 minutes later, in the shady parking lot that houses our Blockbuster and local Supermercado…

SHOCK.  and AWE.

LOML:  Baby!  Loooooook!

***A mystical, mulleted, mustachioed, middle-aged being sails through the parking lot on a 30 year old bike, wearing knee high socks with turquoise bands, tiny 80s gym shorts, and a tight t-shirt***

Paneer:  (Choked with emotion)  Egggghhhhadddd… Waaa… Wahhh…Was that…Uncle RICO?!

LOML:  (Triumphant.  Like, obnoxiously so.)  I TOLD YOU!!!  OH MY GOD, I TOLD YOU HE WAS REAL!!!!!!!!

Paneer:  (Shaken to the very core)  Wow.  Just…wow.  It’s like a unicorn.  Don’t speak.  Don’t ruin it.


It was glorious, people.  Simply.  GLORIOUS.


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