Thursday, June 22, 2006

Bad Days (Always with the Killin')

Sometimes in the Squinty-eyed American Old West you'd get the uneasy feeling that you were being watched, but when you turned around nothing was there... sometimes. Much more often however, someone or something was there, eyes glinting viciously. And you were the reason. And killing was the purpose.

This became known as "having a bad day". As in:
"Hey, did you hear about the bad day Smith had?
"No, what happened, throat torn out by wolves?"
"Nope, stabbed in the face by renegades."
"That is bad."
"Yep."
"Dern those dern renegades. Dern 'em to hell."
"Yeah. Gol-dern renegades--always with the stabbin' and in the face and whatnot."
"Yeah. Anyway, how's that wife of yours and the new baby?"
"Ah, they had a bad day a few weeks ago."
"Sorry to hear it. Renegades?"
"Nope, torn apart by wolves."
"That is bad."
"Yep."
"Dern those dern wolves. Dern 'em to hell."
"Yeah. Gol-dern wolves--always with the tearin' apart and going for the throat and whatnot."
"Yeah."


It wasn't until 1909 that the definition of a bad day expanded to include occurrences that weren't necessarily fatal. Oddly enough, this corresponded with the invention of the office cubicle.

7 Comments:

At 6:28 AM, Blogger 12 Crumble Ave said...

Having a bad day sure is nasty, In fact I'd be one to argue that the definition got worse when the office cublicle was invented, cause with that came the invention of the 'bad week' and 'bad month' and, though many refuse to speak of it, 'the bad year'

These are indeed scary times...

- Toby (Toledo is asleep and Mr Winston's had enough bad days for all of us in his life...)

 
At 10:17 AM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

Then, with the coming of the cubicle, Theo had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Some say the wolves didn't do it.

 
At 1:56 PM, Blogger Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

I once saw a 6-foot-tall man eviscerated by a large bunny-like creature in an horrific scene that will never leave me.

Because it happened in the 80s and the unfortunate victim had a mullet and a waxed moustache, this bloodthirsty bunny attack became known as "having a bad hare day."

Not a lot of people know that.

NB. The victim lived and forgave the hare in question, now old and infirm, live on Dr. Phill's television show. In a moment worthy of primetime, he said "I know that my assailant was a troubled young latchkey leveret at the time, with a $100 a day chamomile habit, and no father-figure in his life. Under such circumstances, I feel I too might, with a drug-addled mind and an enraged bellow fling myself head-first at a person's tummy with bared teeth and bloodlust like Beelzebub himself. So in my Heart, I truly forgive him (although my Gut still screams NO! at my Heart and they still get into spats about it, from time to time).

 
At 2:19 PM, Blogger Cindy-Lou said...

If you ever get that feeling of being watched, don't worry. It's just me. And I certainly do not have killing on my mind.

 
At 6:22 PM, Blogger Cad Grublygold said...

I'd agree with crumble ave, If bad days were still fatal, it would save all the growing old in abject misery stuff.

 
At 11:03 PM, Blogger Ari said...

Never, never did I think I would bust out in a giggle over a wife and new baby gettin' torn apart by wolves. But you have changed all that.

(Oh, and cubicle. ;) Now I'm just doing it to aggravate ya.)

 
At 10:33 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Indeed Crumble Ave, indeed.
Personally I just started working on the second quarter of a bad century. The conclusion of which will probably involve me crapping myself and dying alone in a smelly armchair.
It should be quite triumphant, in a bitter, desperate, lonely sort of way.

Yes Old Hoss, but they glance nervously over their shoulders as they do.

Spectacular Sam, Problem Child. A lot more people know it now though. Rough estimates place my readership at somewhere just below one billion people a day.
(Guts and Hearts never agree.)

What about killing my desire to ever touch any other woman besides you for the rest of my life Cindy-Lou? What about that sort of killing?

Growing old in abject misery builds character sweet Grublygold, you should know that by now.
(I've got so much character I regularly donate some of mine to the Red Cross... they distribute it to needy people in Glendale. They never have enough though.)

Thank you Ari. Yep, you couldn't ask for a better guide if your thing is pointless and random savagery.
(If spell check says it's right, I have no way of knowing it's wrong. I'm a bit of a moron you see.)

 

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