Whenever I'm late the devil is involved.

OK this is a stupid look at how JR operates. It's just so sad. Nay pathetic.

I'm hardly ever late. It's a quirk I have. I hate being late. If I say I'm going to be somewhere at a certain time, I'm usually fucking early. Occasionaly just on time and somewhat more rarely I'm 5 mins behind. I've matured to the fact that 5 mins is an acceptable delta to any time that involved driving. That is Pathetic the first. Not that I'm ontime, but rather that it bugs me so much when I'm not.

Sad the second I voluntarily come to work at 6:00am. I get up at 5:00 as some of you have seen.

OK now for the really pathetic part. I cling to habits like an OCD checks the stove. I have this really stupid habit in the morning when I'm "late". This is more embarassing than I thought... I hum "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" in the shower when I'm late. Why? Because it stops me from thinking about other things. I think about work etc. and then I'm in there for a half hour and now "jezzzuss fuck i'm late".

So there it is my Charlie Daniels dirty little secret.

Today I was late.

Today it backfired on me... wholesale.

I was like "shit I'm going to have to have a 'devil went down to georgia' morning". (See? Pathetic. I know.)

Here's how it backfired. I started questioning the song. (I think thats Sad the third.) I began wondering how if you bought into the whole judeo-xtian thing how could the devil *ever* be in a bind. How could that fucker be way behind? I mean really. Have you seen any reality TV ever? If anything the Devil has an intake rate/space accomodation/hot poker supply for those asses issues.

I can't imagine he'd have to hunt. He was "willing to make a deal". Excuse me? Let's set aside reality TV for a moment. There is a proof floating around that shows Hell is endothermic (yes i'm too lazy to google it and link so do it yourself. In fact if you are OCD add a comment with a link. Dave B comes to mind...) So if all those "other" religious people (and me) are going to hell then he doesn't have issues where he's willing to make a deal. He has a housing problem. His deals would look like this:

Devil on phone: "um ya St. Peter please?... ya I'll hold... Dude, this guy here, he wasn't so bad. You should take him.... uh number 6.023x10^23... ya that guy... that's the one.... Ya I know, but that's not so bad. A few bazillion years in pergatory and he's all set right... Yes... yes I know, it was bus full of nuns that he blew up with an rpg because his coffee came out cold from starbucks... but I mean hey all those people went to heaven so it was really a favor... a service... no? ok fine, fuck you, you halo wearing son of a biatch" (satan slams down phone)

So I mean his days must suck. Why does he need a fiddle player named Johnny anyways?

Then there is Johnny.... He was willing to trade his soul for a fiddle of gold. Then he accepted the terms of SATAN... ok idiot have you heard of maybe fair and impartial judges. As I recall -- and I dont' know the whole song when I hum it in my head there is a lot of "idon'tknowthewordsidon'tknowthewords" in my head -- as I recall some demons were judging. Then the devil gets beat. And he lays down the fiddle of gold. Oh it's an honest devil. A fair satan. right.

So how long was I in the shower... I don't want to talk about it. I got to going over the song and all the stupid stuff in it that we just love. Everybody loves that song. Admit it. You love it when the devil rosins up his bow and fire flys from his fingers. Thats good shit.

The question that started it all was very simple. As I stepped in the shower starting the tune in my head I asked myself on question and that was all it took. I asked myself:

Since when did the Devil ever leave Georgia?