I never really thought about how big a day today is or how tense or stressed I might be, but apparently my subconscious was all over it.
I dreamt a LOT last night.
It was all very Anime. Escher-like college building constructs that were fraught with danger--steep inclines, water hazards, sheer drops--that all impeded any sort of smooth traversing. Islands that floated in the air were kept tethered to the Earth by chains and kept dropping boulders.
"That Woman" (if I may borrow from A.C. Doyle) was an ever elusive prey. If one were to interpret dreams, this would be the person who had the power to make everything go smoothly, but was never available, difficult to identify, heavily guarded and always saw me coming.
I'd been after the college for months to let me talk to someone - anyone - I have questions, I have special needs. I'm not a clueless teen. I'm a non-traditional student.
Okay, I'm an anal-retentive, old fart who has done my homework.
Taking what I know has transfered - I know what I need to take.
Take the list of what's being offered in the fall
Subtract anything extraneous or must be taken after some prerequisites.
Now the hard part - build a schedule from the pitifully few that remain.
I'd prefer a full 18 credit, MWF schedule, so I could still work a flexible job.
Two courses are only offered at one time, so I have to build around those.
There are next to no good Lit courses offered, and...and...and...
Long story, less long - I have my 'dream' schedule - and I've been watching those classes fill up for weeks and weeks.
Turned away at every request, I'm sure I've been a nagging, simpering, begging pest.
Now today - a complete stranger will look at my file for the first time and puzzle all that out for me? I don't think so.
I'm torn. Should I just sit at the advising table, wasting valuable time as someone else takes that last available seat in Survey of the Exceptional Child -- getting the bored I'd-rather-be-golfing-but-am-doing-you-an-extreme-favor look and listen to their lecture ...
or
...Should I hand them my nicely printed schedule with the current enrollment numbers and say between gritted teeth,
"Listen, buddy," I'll say, grabbing the sweet-smelling grandmotherly lady by her frilly lapel, "you don't know me and I don't know you, but you have something I need and you're going to give it to me."
Frantic - she tries to maintain the delaying tactic "Now, young man, if you'll just take a . . ."
"THE ALTERNATE PIN ! WHAT IS IT?" Beads of sweat roll down my spine as I see in periphery a bookish looking transfer student head to the registration computer.
Wildly looking left and right for some kind of savior "But, you'll have to . . ."
"THERE'S . . . NO . . . TIME !" I punctuate each word with a slap across the face and pull her up to eye level "Do you see that man over there? LOOK AT HIM ! In all liklihood he is, at this VERY MINUTE" my voice rises "taking the last seat in a class I NEED!" I drop my voice to a whisper "And if you think I'm being ugly now, by God, just you wait 'til I have to come back for an override form. Now," I say, straightening her collar, "give me the alternate pin."
"Here, here it is." She whimpers, reaching into the skirt pocket next to her ample bosom. "555555! Is that what you want?! TAKE IT! I've always hated advising days." She cries.
But her face, her fear and her tears are already forgotten. I have what I came for, what I've been searching for for months. The pin number that will allow me to register.
And now only one thing stands in my way - students whose last names come before mine alphabetically.
NOOOOOO ! ! ! ! !
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Studies Show . . .
For those of you who thought that same sex marriages would ruin it for the rest of you, guess what?
It's not the homosexuals that'll do you in, it's the heterosexuals who shack up that's ruining it for you.
But let me toss in another 'guess what.' It's improving the divorce rate!
The 'sanctity' of marriage now, officially, is a moot point.
U.S. Divorce Rate Lowest Since 1970
By DAVID CRARY - AP National Writer
NEW YORK (AP) - By the numbers, divorce just isn't what it used to be.
Despite the common notion that America remains plagued by a divorce epidemic, the national per capita divorce rate has declined steadily since its peak in 1981 and is now at its lowest level since 1970.
The study above points out another 'guess what' that I can't help but aim at all the ultra-conservative, not left, extreme religion type folks -- get this, an educated and working wife actually helps stabilize the marriage.
HA ! Don't you just love it?
But wait, there's more....
If you don't want to be plagued by critical thinking, you can find a study to back up any theory and attribute it to any cause.
President Bush's nominee for surgeon general, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr., offers another example.
16 years ago Holsinger wrote a piece about gay sex being unnatural and unhealthy. He stated "The rectum is incapable of mechanical protection against abrasion and severe damage ... can result if objects that are large, sharp or pointed are inserted into the rectum . . ."
It is my theory, that Holsinger was inspired by the very large, sharp and pointy and unlubricated pine cone that somehow became lodged in the same area of study.
THIS? is a nominee for the surgeon general?
Are we going to get a new "caution" message on the happy meal toys and razor blades? Does anyone NOT know that putting sharp, abrasive and pointy things in your body COULD cause damage?
Gimme a D!
Gimme a U!
Gimme an H!
Can we get a big "DUH !" here?
Why do you think that people trim the gerbil's nails? -- but I digress.
Okay, he's trying to make two points 1) Unhealthy and 2) Unnatural.
As for number 1, I say, I don't know what YOU are sticking up there, buddy, but if it's sharp and abrasive, I think you're not very clear on gay sex. Let me help you out with two words of advice . . . Astro Glide.
My response to 'point' number 2, homosexuality has been observed in more than 1,500 species.
Soon, I think, we'll discover that french kissing while wearing a bikini does not make you pregnant.
WHERE does Bush find these people?
It's not the homosexuals that'll do you in, it's the heterosexuals who shack up that's ruining it for you.
But let me toss in another 'guess what.' It's improving the divorce rate!
The 'sanctity' of marriage now, officially, is a moot point.
U.S. Divorce Rate Lowest Since 1970
By DAVID CRARY - AP National Writer
NEW YORK (AP) - By the numbers, divorce just isn't what it used to be.
Despite the common notion that America remains plagued by a divorce epidemic, the national per capita divorce rate has declined steadily since its peak in 1981 and is now at its lowest level since 1970.
The study above points out another 'guess what' that I can't help but aim at all the ultra-conservative, not left, extreme religion type folks -- get this, an educated and working wife actually helps stabilize the marriage.
HA ! Don't you just love it?
But wait, there's more....
If you don't want to be plagued by critical thinking, you can find a study to back up any theory and attribute it to any cause.
President Bush's nominee for surgeon general, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr., offers another example.
16 years ago Holsinger wrote a piece about gay sex being unnatural and unhealthy. He stated "The rectum is incapable of mechanical protection against abrasion and severe damage ... can result if objects that are large, sharp or pointed are inserted into the rectum . . ."
It is my theory, that Holsinger was inspired by the very large, sharp and pointy and unlubricated pine cone that somehow became lodged in the same area of study.
THIS? is a nominee for the surgeon general?
Are we going to get a new "caution" message on the happy meal toys and razor blades? Does anyone NOT know that putting sharp, abrasive and pointy things in your body COULD cause damage?
Gimme a D!
Gimme a U!
Gimme an H!
Can we get a big "DUH !" here?
Why do you think that people trim the gerbil's nails? -- but I digress.
Okay, he's trying to make two points 1) Unhealthy and 2) Unnatural.
As for number 1, I say, I don't know what YOU are sticking up there, buddy, but if it's sharp and abrasive, I think you're not very clear on gay sex. Let me help you out with two words of advice . . . Astro Glide.
My response to 'point' number 2, homosexuality has been observed in more than 1,500 species.
Soon, I think, we'll discover that french kissing while wearing a bikini does not make you pregnant.
WHERE does Bush find these people?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Form of Admission
While chatting with a lawyer friend this morning I discovered a new silly part of the legal system. It's called a "form of admission." On this form is a list of allegations that the person to whom it is directed must either admit or deny.
Here's the silly part--If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
So, of course, all the high school questions immediately pop into my head, i.e.,
Admit____Deny____ You still beat your wife.
If you admit it - well, shame on you. If you deny it, you're admitting that at some point you did beat your wife. If you fail to respond, it's assumed that you beat your wife.
Now consider this question...
Admit____Deny____ You support our troops.
It's been on my mind for a while now. Ever since war with Iraq had begun, the death toll began to rise and the military recruiting commercials increased in frequency. The commercials that say something along the lines of "College . . . career training . . . manhood, etc., talk to your kids about joining the military."
I'll have to admit--my thinking about this stems back before the Iraq war, to my own time in the military two decades ago - why I was there and why it disagreed with me.
I'm a non-violent person.
I don't believe that might makes right.
I don't believe in mutually assured destruction to keep the peace.
But I do know that there are many, many, many people who stand on the opposite side of the fence who will impose their will because they can. And the only reason we are not overrun by them is because we have people who will stand against them.
Without a military force or even a police force, the kinder, gentler people would be at the mercy of anyone with a stick.
So, here's the question--You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
What does that even mean: support the troops?
I wouldn't even dream of saying no, because that plasters UNAMERICAN across my forehead. A scarlet letter U that lumps me with terrorists. "You are either with us or against us" Bush has said.
Why can't it simply be "You are either with us or not?"
You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
If I say I am in support of the troops, then am I saying that I also support Bush and agree with why the troops are there? Do I support interrogation tactics? Do I support their treatment of prisoners? Do I support every bullet fired?
Admit____Deny____
Why ARE they there?
"Eleven years ago, as a condition for ending the Persian Gulf War, the Iraqi regime was required to destroy its weapons of mass destruction, to cease all development of such weapons, and to stop all support for terrorist groups. The Iraqi regime has violated all of those obligations. It possesses and produces chemical and biological weapons. It is seeking nuclear weapons. It has given shelter and support to terrorism, and practices terror against its own people. The entire world has witnessed Iraq's eleven-year history of defiance, deception and bad faith.". . ."In addition to declaring and destroying all of its weapons of mass destruction, Iraq must end its support for terrorism. It must cease the persecution of its civilian population. It must stop all illicit trade outside the Oil For Food program. It must release or account for all Gulf War personnel, including an American pilot, whose fate is still unknown." G. W. Bush - October 7, 2002
"This is not the fight we entered in Iraq, but it is the fight we're in.". . .
"We're carrying out a new strategy in Iraq -- a plan that demands more from Iraq's elected government, and gives our forces in Iraq the reinforcements they need to complete their mission. Our goal is a democratic Iraq that upholds the rule of law, respects the rights of its people, provides them security, and is an ally in the war on terror.". . ."With Iraqis in the lead, our forces will help secure the city by chasing down the terrorists, insurgents, and the roaming death squads. And in Anbar Province, where al Qaeda terrorists have gathered and local forces have begun showing a willingness to fight them, we're sending an additional 4,000 United States Marines, with orders to find the terrorists and clear them out. (Applause.) We didn't drive al Qaeda out of their safe haven in Afghanistan only to let them set up a new safe haven in a free Iraq." G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
Was Hussein's dethroning and death a preemptive strike - or was it retaliation for 9/11? In the beginning, it was played as if Hussein had direct involvement with the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but later it was simply Saddam's regime posed a risk that the world could not afford to take.
-"The United States has no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else." - G.W. Bush - February 2, 2005
but now
-"Our goal is a democratic Iraq . . ." - G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
So, do I support the troops? Admit____Deny____
How can I tell? From the reasons we were given then, or the reasons we are given now? I simply do not know. (If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.)
-9/11
-Saddam Hussein
-WMD
-al-Qaida and bin Laden.
-Zarqawi
-Democratic reform.
-Idealogical struggle.
-No honor in retreat.
-Radical Islam.
-Terrorists, insurgents and roaming death squads.
Admit____Deny____
If I say I support the troops - will it give some kind of meaning to this?
U.S. Military Deaths by month:
June-2007 - 17
May-2007 - 127
April-2007 - 104
March-2007 - 81
February-2007 - 80
January-2007 - 83
December-2006 - 112
November-2006 - 70
October-2006 - 106
September-2006 - 72
August-2006 - 65
July-2006 - 43
June-2006 - 61
May-2006 - 69
April-2006 - 76
March-2006 - 31
February-2006 - 55
January-2006 - 62
December-2005 - 68
November-2005 - 84
October-2005 - 96
September-2005 - 49
August-2005 - 85
July-2005 - 54
June-2005 - 78
May-2005 - 80
April-2005 - 52
March-2005 - 35
February-2005 - 58
January-2005 - 107
December-2004 - 72
November-2004 - 137
October-2004 - 64
September-2004 - 80
August-2004 - 66
July-2004 - 54
June-2004 - 42
May-2004 - 80
April-2004 - 135
March-2004 - 52
February-2004 - 20
January-2004 - 47
December-2003 - 40
November-2003 - 82
October-2003 - 44
September-2003 - 31
August-2003 - 35
July-2003 - 48
June-2003 - 30
May-2003 - 37
April-2003 - 74
March-2003 - 65
Total - 3495
DO I SUPPORT THE TROOPS? ! ! ! ?
ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION ! Admit____Deny____
What do you want me to say?
I am not against you.
I am for life.
I don't know enough to be with you.
I support the safe return of the troops.
You have failed to deny the allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
Here's the silly part--If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
So, of course, all the high school questions immediately pop into my head, i.e.,
Admit____Deny____ You still beat your wife.
If you admit it - well, shame on you. If you deny it, you're admitting that at some point you did beat your wife. If you fail to respond, it's assumed that you beat your wife.
Now consider this question...
Admit____Deny____ You support our troops.
It's been on my mind for a while now. Ever since war with Iraq had begun, the death toll began to rise and the military recruiting commercials increased in frequency. The commercials that say something along the lines of "College . . . career training . . . manhood, etc., talk to your kids about joining the military."
I'll have to admit--my thinking about this stems back before the Iraq war, to my own time in the military two decades ago - why I was there and why it disagreed with me.
I'm a non-violent person.
I don't believe that might makes right.
I don't believe in mutually assured destruction to keep the peace.
But I do know that there are many, many, many people who stand on the opposite side of the fence who will impose their will because they can. And the only reason we are not overrun by them is because we have people who will stand against them.
Without a military force or even a police force, the kinder, gentler people would be at the mercy of anyone with a stick.
So, here's the question--You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
What does that even mean: support the troops?
I wouldn't even dream of saying no, because that plasters UNAMERICAN across my forehead. A scarlet letter U that lumps me with terrorists. "You are either with us or against us" Bush has said.
Why can't it simply be "You are either with us or not?"
You support the troops. Admit____Deny____
If I say I am in support of the troops, then am I saying that I also support Bush and agree with why the troops are there? Do I support interrogation tactics? Do I support their treatment of prisoners? Do I support every bullet fired?
Admit____Deny____
Why ARE they there?
"Eleven years ago, as a condition for ending the Persian Gulf War, the Iraqi regime was required to destroy its weapons of mass destruction, to cease all development of such weapons, and to stop all support for terrorist groups. The Iraqi regime has violated all of those obligations. It possesses and produces chemical and biological weapons. It is seeking nuclear weapons. It has given shelter and support to terrorism, and practices terror against its own people. The entire world has witnessed Iraq's eleven-year history of defiance, deception and bad faith.". . ."In addition to declaring and destroying all of its weapons of mass destruction, Iraq must end its support for terrorism. It must cease the persecution of its civilian population. It must stop all illicit trade outside the Oil For Food program. It must release or account for all Gulf War personnel, including an American pilot, whose fate is still unknown." G. W. Bush - October 7, 2002
"This is not the fight we entered in Iraq, but it is the fight we're in.". . .
"We're carrying out a new strategy in Iraq -- a plan that demands more from Iraq's elected government, and gives our forces in Iraq the reinforcements they need to complete their mission. Our goal is a democratic Iraq that upholds the rule of law, respects the rights of its people, provides them security, and is an ally in the war on terror.". . ."With Iraqis in the lead, our forces will help secure the city by chasing down the terrorists, insurgents, and the roaming death squads. And in Anbar Province, where al Qaeda terrorists have gathered and local forces have begun showing a willingness to fight them, we're sending an additional 4,000 United States Marines, with orders to find the terrorists and clear them out. (Applause.) We didn't drive al Qaeda out of their safe haven in Afghanistan only to let them set up a new safe haven in a free Iraq." G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
Was Hussein's dethroning and death a preemptive strike - or was it retaliation for 9/11? In the beginning, it was played as if Hussein had direct involvement with the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but later it was simply Saddam's regime posed a risk that the world could not afford to take.
-"The United States has no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else." - G.W. Bush - February 2, 2005
but now
-"Our goal is a democratic Iraq . . ." - G.W. Bush - January 23, 2007
So, do I support the troops? Admit____Deny____
How can I tell? From the reasons we were given then, or the reasons we are given now? I simply do not know. (If you fail to deny an allegation it may be taken that you admit it.)
-9/11
-Saddam Hussein
-WMD
-al-Qaida and bin Laden.
-Zarqawi
-Democratic reform.
-Idealogical struggle.
-No honor in retreat.
-Radical Islam.
-Terrorists, insurgents and roaming death squads.
Admit____Deny____
If I say I support the troops - will it give some kind of meaning to this?
U.S. Military Deaths by month:
June-2007 - 17
May-2007 - 127
April-2007 - 104
March-2007 - 81
February-2007 - 80
January-2007 - 83
December-2006 - 112
November-2006 - 70
October-2006 - 106
September-2006 - 72
August-2006 - 65
July-2006 - 43
June-2006 - 61
May-2006 - 69
April-2006 - 76
March-2006 - 31
February-2006 - 55
January-2006 - 62
December-2005 - 68
November-2005 - 84
October-2005 - 96
September-2005 - 49
August-2005 - 85
July-2005 - 54
June-2005 - 78
May-2005 - 80
April-2005 - 52
March-2005 - 35
February-2005 - 58
January-2005 - 107
December-2004 - 72
November-2004 - 137
October-2004 - 64
September-2004 - 80
August-2004 - 66
July-2004 - 54
June-2004 - 42
May-2004 - 80
April-2004 - 135
March-2004 - 52
February-2004 - 20
January-2004 - 47
December-2003 - 40
November-2003 - 82
October-2003 - 44
September-2003 - 31
August-2003 - 35
July-2003 - 48
June-2003 - 30
May-2003 - 37
April-2003 - 74
March-2003 - 65
Total - 3495
DO I SUPPORT THE TROOPS? ! ! ! ?
ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION ! Admit____Deny____
What do you want me to say?
I am not against you.
I am for life.
I don't know enough to be with you.
I support the safe return of the troops.
You have failed to deny the allegation it may be taken that you admit it.
Monday, June 04, 2007
The Family Thicket
Many people place a great importance on lineage. It is my assertion that it doesn't matter where you come from, it's who you are now that is important. I guess part of my assertion comes from my difficulty in charting a family tree without utilizing extra dimensions.
My father divorced three times.
His 2nd wife married three times.
His 3rd wife divorced three times.
My mother married (I think) five times.
All but three of all the marriages combined resulted in children.
One of my sisters has three children from (I think) three men.
Two of my brothers I've never met - might have children, I dunno.
One half-sister could be a full sister - [The woman that mom claims is the father (yes, that's right) has serious doubts.]
Is this good enough for Springer?
Which gets me to my thought for today -- I wonder . . . how DO they get you on those tell-all shows, when YOU'RE the one whose dirty laundry will be aired?
If someone ever says to you "Oh, Honey, let's go see a live taping of Jerry Springer," your air raid sirens better be going full blast.
Some warning signs that you're a great candidate for a tell-all show are:
Your children all look like the milkman.
(And you're sterile.)
Your girlfriend insists on blindfolding you before nooky.
(You thought it was kinky, but have ever actually seen her naked?)
Your husband likes to water the lawn in heels.
(Claims the stillettos aerate the soil.)
You live in a trailer.
(Blanket statement here, I know - my apologies.)
Really, how does a person get on one of those shows without suspecting something?
Bait and Switch "Wait, this ain't Disneyland."
Altered concsiousness, i.e., drugs, bat, etc. "Whoa, my head. Hey. Where are we?"
Surprise "Are your eyes still closed? Just a few more steps..."
Readers, your mission is to
1-click on the comment bar below and
2-give me scenarios on how to get someone on the show
3-without them knowing what's in store for them.
My father divorced three times.
His 2nd wife married three times.
His 3rd wife divorced three times.
My mother married (I think) five times.
All but three of all the marriages combined resulted in children.
One of my sisters has three children from (I think) three men.
Two of my brothers I've never met - might have children, I dunno.
One half-sister could be a full sister - [The woman that mom claims is the father (yes, that's right) has serious doubts.]
Is this good enough for Springer?
Which gets me to my thought for today -- I wonder . . . how DO they get you on those tell-all shows, when YOU'RE the one whose dirty laundry will be aired?
If someone ever says to you "Oh, Honey, let's go see a live taping of Jerry Springer," your air raid sirens better be going full blast.
Some warning signs that you're a great candidate for a tell-all show are:
Your children all look like the milkman.
(And you're sterile.)
Your girlfriend insists on blindfolding you before nooky.
(You thought it was kinky, but have ever actually seen her naked?)
Your husband likes to water the lawn in heels.
(Claims the stillettos aerate the soil.)
You live in a trailer.
(Blanket statement here, I know - my apologies.)
Really, how does a person get on one of those shows without suspecting something?
Bait and Switch "Wait, this ain't Disneyland."
Altered concsiousness, i.e., drugs, bat, etc. "Whoa, my head. Hey. Where are we?"
Surprise "Are your eyes still closed? Just a few more steps..."
Readers, your mission is to
1-click on the comment bar below and
2-give me scenarios on how to get someone on the show
3-without them knowing what's in store for them.
Friday, June 01, 2007
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
In response to the Top 10 Reasons Skidmark's Gay, this scandalous comment and accompanying photo just came in from our reporters in the field.
For fair and ethical reporting, I present it as is without edits or rebuttal.
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
10) He does not wear pink.
9) He drinks domestic beer.
8) He likes boobies - on women.
7) He does not use hair products.
6) He does not shave anywhere.
5) He thinks that Babs is not a talented artist.
4) He listens to country music.
3) He eats at truck stops and not for the "hawt" truckers that frequent such places.
2) He doesn't own a flower shop.
and the #1 reason Chuck is not gay:
1) He spent most of his time in army bases while enlisted in the navy.
Now these ten items may not be enough to convince you, however, when the "gay" guy has groped more women on the MARC train than the collective group of heterosexual males, one has no choice other than to conclude that Chuck is NOT gay.
For fair and ethical reporting, I present it as is without edits or rebuttal.
10 Reasons Chuck Is Not Gay
10) He does not wear pink.
9) He drinks domestic beer.
8) He likes boobies - on women.
7) He does not use hair products.
6) He does not shave anywhere.
5) He thinks that Babs is not a talented artist.
4) He listens to country music.
3) He eats at truck stops and not for the "hawt" truckers that frequent such places.
2) He doesn't own a flower shop.
and the #1 reason Chuck is not gay:
1) He spent most of his time in army bases while enlisted in the navy.
Now these ten items may not be enough to convince you, however, when the "gay" guy has groped more women on the MARC train than the collective group of heterosexual males, one has no choice other than to conclude that Chuck is NOT gay.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Top Ten Reasons Skidmark's Gay
This is not an 'outing' or a message of disapproval of a lifestyle.
Because the commuters clamour for it,
and because Skidmark likes to push my buttons
here are the TOP 10 REASONS SKIDMARK'S GAY.
10) Active participation in a conversation on women's shoes.
9) He was very interested and made knowledgable contributions to a conversation regarding women's hair products.
8) He was very embarassed (perhaps even devastated) and extremely self-conscious for an entire day when he discovered his shoes didn't match his belt.
7) Hair products, hair products, hair products.
6) He squirms the most during beer bottle tricks.
5) Even his wife calls him Man Bitch, Mangina and Munt.
4) He shaves his stomach
3) He asked everyone "Can you tell I lost 6 lbs.?"
2) He's envious of the sexual habits of a gay household.
And the number one reason why Skidmark is gay:
1) At multiple times and with many witnesses, he has said "I'm gay."
Do you need more?
A) Oddly enough, he always wants to sit next to me on the train - even though I've told him "No, means No."
B) At times he's been known to put his crotch up very close to my face (ostensibly to look out the window of the seat behind us).
C) Like a bitch in heat, he's often turning his ass in my direction--presenting, if you will.
D) He likes to make small talk - endless small talk - almost like a nervous chatter - and always about nothing important. Picture shy school girl and varsity football player - "So, um, do you like chewing gum?" only his small talk is about the speed or timeliness of the train.
E) Even his wife, perhaps sensing that Skidmark needed an 'outlet,' has sold his ass to me for a cigarette.
Because the commuters clamour for it,
and because Skidmark likes to push my buttons
here are the TOP 10 REASONS SKIDMARK'S GAY.
10) Active participation in a conversation on women's shoes.9) He was very interested and made knowledgable contributions to a conversation regarding women's hair products.
8) He was very embarassed (perhaps even devastated) and extremely self-conscious for an entire day when he discovered his shoes didn't match his belt.
7) Hair products, hair products, hair products.
6) He squirms the most during beer bottle tricks.
5) Even his wife calls him Man Bitch, Mangina and Munt.
4) He shaves his stomach
3) He asked everyone "Can you tell I lost 6 lbs.?"
2) He's envious of the sexual habits of a gay household.
And the number one reason why Skidmark is gay:
1) At multiple times and with many witnesses, he has said "I'm gay."
Do you need more?
A) Oddly enough, he always wants to sit next to me on the train - even though I've told him "No, means No."
B) At times he's been known to put his crotch up very close to my face (ostensibly to look out the window of the seat behind us).
C) Like a bitch in heat, he's often turning his ass in my direction--presenting, if you will.
D) He likes to make small talk - endless small talk - almost like a nervous chatter - and always about nothing important. Picture shy school girl and varsity football player - "So, um, do you like chewing gum?" only his small talk is about the speed or timeliness of the train.
E) Even his wife, perhaps sensing that Skidmark needed an 'outlet,' has sold his ass to me for a cigarette.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Prissmas Recap
It's been a month since Prissmas. I believe we've all healed enough emotionally from the humiliating 'told-you-so's' to post an account of our annual event.Lighting the fire was much better planned this year. I'm very suprised. Lady Prisspott gathered all of the guests in a pen well enough away from the intended blaze. The Lord Prisspott was nowhere to be found. Apparently he wasn't feeling well. In hindsight, I don't think it's impossible that Lady Prisspott put something in the Lord's food to keep his disapproving stance away from our use of gasoline as an accelerant.
Wearing BDUs (battle dress uniform - camouflaged outfits) Ivy and Thorny prepared the projectiles (bottle rockets) and the long metal tube, while Hydrangea doused the burnable heap with gasoline.
Acquire the target!
Target Acquired!
Load the projectile!
Projectile Loaded!
Ignite!
It's Lit!
Shove it in!
It's in!
Confirm Target!
Target Confirmed!
Fwoosh! and .... nothing.
Repeat 11 more times - redouse with gasoline (at which point we yelled "Acquire the target!" again just to make Hydrangea nervous - then fired two more times (after Hydrangea was clear) and.....THWOOM!
Arr arr arr! - we make fire - arr arr arr!
Applause and happy dance.
On a side note, we had planned and practiced this lighting ritual in our backyard (next to the firehouse) before actually attempting it. We were a little bit nervous about the safety of this experiment. We also had a firefighter at Prissmas. (We'd invited her, then realized "Oh crap! She's a firefighter - will she rain on our parade?")
By far it was the ugliest Prissmas tree ever. We really outdid ourselves. I do believe it was the biggest bonfire ever too. How very cathartic. We burned lots of stuff. The 'ladies' brought a box of things that MUST be burned. Sort of a letting go type thing. Unrequited love letters, ransom notes, compromising photos and the like. If it can be burned, it never happened.
The two sets of Prisspops were a big hit too. Individually packaged and colorfully labeled they fit the requirements: looks yummy, taste like poo. Don't take my word for it, just look at these satisfied customers.
At the opposite end of the edible spectrum, the dessert burritos we cooked in the bonfire took a feat of courage. Even though the talented Lady Prisspott had welded some very nice platforms on poles, still the fire was too hot to get close enough to insert, flip and retrieve while keeping your eyebrows. Plus there was no temperature control. So you didn't know when it was done. (Mine was still cold in the middle.) Great idea too. It met the Prissmas requirements for food. Looks like poo. Tastes yummy.
I don't know who brought it, I think it may have been the 'ladies,' but there was some truly horrendous Spitting Liquor on hand. I was completely amazed - very much awed - by Cat's spitting ability - boy, could she take a lot in her mouth. Now, how could that be practically applied to other events? I'll have to think on that.
Pro: Quantity.
Con: She spits.
Somewhere in the middle of the bonfire ballet, we sang Prissmas Carols around the fire. Apparently T doesn't like to sing in the key of Chuck. "Too low. Too high." she would complain. Through experimentation and trial and error, I think we finally found the right spot when we let her take control. (I imagine it's similar to being married to her-but I'll keep my fantasies to myself.)
I'll write more if it comes to me, but will also let the Prissmas revelers chime in with comments.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
From Fox 5 to Prohibition
Okay, here's the deal. Just pay attention to what people say. Don't let yourself be moved to any kneejerk responses. THINK MAN! Think for yourself.
Which sounds better? Advocate or Activist? An advocate for abortion is an activist to anti-abortionists. Even the name "Pro-Life" lends you believe that people who believe otherwise must be Pro-Death. PETA is an advocate to animal lovers and an activist to furriers (who aren't animal haters).
Politicians, News Writers, Preachers, Car Salesmen, Actors -- it's their job to get you to believe and agree with them. Their words will paint a picture and evoke a response in you.
Now, can anyone tell me the difference between the afternoon shock shows (i.e., Springer) and Fox 5 News?
Fox 5 Investigates did an expose of commuters drinking on the MARC Train.
Using a long list of alarmist phrases they attempted to move the viewer to believe that drinking alcohol on the train must be stopped. Take a look:
-. . .commuters boozing it up. . .
-A scene so troubling it's got lawmakers calling for changes right now.
-"wastin' away again in Margaritaville."
-All aboard this Margaritaville express.
-A free flowing happy hour on the rails. . .
-The rush hour drinking fest even more widespread than FOX5 first exposed last year.
-. . .full party mode. . ..
-. . .doublefisting the booze. . .
-. . .a bizarre Maryland state law which allows eating and drinking --even alcohol -- on the MARC trains.
In the first few seconds of the 'report' they try to create in the viewer an emotional response: terrible ongoing problem, bad drinking, danger.
The law that allows alcohol on the train is not bizarre and drinking on the train is not a troubling scene. What is troubling are people who drink, then drive.
We can all agree, I'm sure, that drinking and driving is a danger to everyone, but what kind of a news report does that make?
"This just in, drinkin' and drivin' is bad, mmmkay? Back to you Maureen."
"Thank you, Bob. VERY informative."
Nope. Not going to sell advertising space, is it?
Let's dress it up and make it marketable.
First, let's call it an expose.
Hmm, needs more alarming phrases.
Which sounds worse? 'Drinking' or 'Boozing it up?'
Add some hippy drinking music! Everyone hates hippies!
Now, add some grainy, concealed camera footage.
No, I'm still not alarmed enough
Okay, blur out some faces and YES! That's perfect.
My, how seedy and underhanded that looks.
Okay, this just in to JUST CHUCK'S BLOG
Shock Jock Fox is seeking prohibition of drinking on the train, If this unending war on your personal freedoms is successful, how long before Fox attacks family owned neighborhood restaurants that serve alcohol? Then how long before Fox supports statewide Prohibition?
Then...obviously...witch hunts.
____________
Which sounds better? Advocate or Activist? An advocate for abortion is an activist to anti-abortionists. Even the name "Pro-Life" lends you believe that people who believe otherwise must be Pro-Death. PETA is an advocate to animal lovers and an activist to furriers (who aren't animal haters).
Politicians, News Writers, Preachers, Car Salesmen, Actors -- it's their job to get you to believe and agree with them. Their words will paint a picture and evoke a response in you.
Now, can anyone tell me the difference between the afternoon shock shows (i.e., Springer) and Fox 5 News?
Fox 5 Investigates did an expose of commuters drinking on the MARC Train.
Using a long list of alarmist phrases they attempted to move the viewer to believe that drinking alcohol on the train must be stopped. Take a look:
-. . .commuters boozing it up. . .
-A scene so troubling it's got lawmakers calling for changes right now.
-"wastin' away again in Margaritaville."
-All aboard this Margaritaville express.
-A free flowing happy hour on the rails. . .
-The rush hour drinking fest even more widespread than FOX5 first exposed last year.
-. . .full party mode. . ..
-. . .doublefisting the booze. . .
-. . .a bizarre Maryland state law which allows eating and drinking --even alcohol -- on the MARC trains.
In the first few seconds of the 'report' they try to create in the viewer an emotional response: terrible ongoing problem, bad drinking, danger.
The law that allows alcohol on the train is not bizarre and drinking on the train is not a troubling scene. What is troubling are people who drink, then drive.
We can all agree, I'm sure, that drinking and driving is a danger to everyone, but what kind of a news report does that make?
"This just in, drinkin' and drivin' is bad, mmmkay? Back to you Maureen."
"Thank you, Bob. VERY informative."
Nope. Not going to sell advertising space, is it?
Let's dress it up and make it marketable.
First, let's call it an expose.
Hmm, needs more alarming phrases.
Which sounds worse? 'Drinking' or 'Boozing it up?'
Add some hippy drinking music! Everyone hates hippies!
Now, add some grainy, concealed camera footage.
No, I'm still not alarmed enough
Okay, blur out some faces and YES! That's perfect.
My, how seedy and underhanded that looks.
Okay, this just in to JUST CHUCK'S BLOG
Shock Jock Fox is seeking prohibition of drinking on the train, If this unending war on your personal freedoms is successful, how long before Fox attacks family owned neighborhood restaurants that serve alcohol? Then how long before Fox supports statewide Prohibition?
Then...obviously...witch hunts.
____________
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
From Baltimore Outloud
If you ever wonder why the rights, benefits and privileges of marriage are important to same sex couples, here is one reason.
From Baltimore Outloud
Baltimore man struggles to keep late partner’s gravesite
By Steve Charing
For Kevin-Douglas Olive of Baltimore’s Seton Hill, the battle only began once his partner Russell Groff died from staph infection in November 2004 at the age of 26. Groff was buried in a rural Tennessee cemetery that the partners had agreed on in a will and burial agreements. Both were from Tennessee.
But Groff’s parents, Lowell and Carolyn Groff, have challenged the burial site and the right of Olive to be executor since July 2005. The expensive legal battles that have ensued and are continuing to strap the finances of Olive to the point he must sell his car and try to raise funds to ward off the Groffs’ challenges.
Russell Groff’s parents have been virulently anti-gay, which is ostensibly motivating them in their pursuit to deny their son’s expressed wishes. They even did a Fred Phelps-like protest during Knoxville, TN’s lgbt "Come Out Knoxville" celebration.
According to the Knoxville Metro Pulse, Carolyn Groff blames the "destructive gay lifestyle" for the death of her son, an aspiring playwright. "He wasn’t like that until he got involved in the theater group at Maryville College," she explains. Several other members of her Bible Baptist Church brought signs denoting that gays are destined to hell. Their brand of Christianity drove Russell away from the Christian church and joined Kevin as a Quaker after they met.
Conversely, Kevin-Douglas Olive parents were active in the Greater Knoxville PFLAG chapter where his mother served as treasurer. Kevin, too, was active in the chapter. But his family does not have the financial means to help Kevin in his the series of lawsuits.
Although he is facing financial ruin, Kevin, 35, a French teacher, is determined to win for Russell what he had wanted. "He was the most important person in the world to me," he told Baltimore OUTloud. "I owe it to him that his wishes are carried out."
The legal battles, which are sapping his funds, are a two-pronged approach: one to impeach Kevin as an administrator of the estate and the other to overturn the will. He had won the initial round in a Baltimore City Orphans Court but Groff’s parents have appealed the decision so that they may move their son’s body to a family cemetery. During the appeal, the entire case must be presented from scratch.
Kevin says the legal fees are currently running $22,000. Thus far, he has raised only $5,000 to meet those obligations. He can use whatever financial help is available.
Contributions can be made to: Kevin Olive Defense Fund, c/o Homewood Friends Meeting, 3107 N. Charles St., Baltimore, MD 21218.
From Baltimore Outloud
Baltimore man struggles to keep late partner’s gravesite
By Steve Charing
For Kevin-Douglas Olive of Baltimore’s Seton Hill, the battle only began once his partner Russell Groff died from staph infection in November 2004 at the age of 26. Groff was buried in a rural Tennessee cemetery that the partners had agreed on in a will and burial agreements. Both were from Tennessee.
But Groff’s parents, Lowell and Carolyn Groff, have challenged the burial site and the right of Olive to be executor since July 2005. The expensive legal battles that have ensued and are continuing to strap the finances of Olive to the point he must sell his car and try to raise funds to ward off the Groffs’ challenges.
Russell Groff’s parents have been virulently anti-gay, which is ostensibly motivating them in their pursuit to deny their son’s expressed wishes. They even did a Fred Phelps-like protest during Knoxville, TN’s lgbt "Come Out Knoxville" celebration.
According to the Knoxville Metro Pulse, Carolyn Groff blames the "destructive gay lifestyle" for the death of her son, an aspiring playwright. "He wasn’t like that until he got involved in the theater group at Maryville College," she explains. Several other members of her Bible Baptist Church brought signs denoting that gays are destined to hell. Their brand of Christianity drove Russell away from the Christian church and joined Kevin as a Quaker after they met.
Conversely, Kevin-Douglas Olive parents were active in the Greater Knoxville PFLAG chapter where his mother served as treasurer. Kevin, too, was active in the chapter. But his family does not have the financial means to help Kevin in his the series of lawsuits.
Although he is facing financial ruin, Kevin, 35, a French teacher, is determined to win for Russell what he had wanted. "He was the most important person in the world to me," he told Baltimore OUTloud. "I owe it to him that his wishes are carried out."
The legal battles, which are sapping his funds, are a two-pronged approach: one to impeach Kevin as an administrator of the estate and the other to overturn the will. He had won the initial round in a Baltimore City Orphans Court but Groff’s parents have appealed the decision so that they may move their son’s body to a family cemetery. During the appeal, the entire case must be presented from scratch.
Kevin says the legal fees are currently running $22,000. Thus far, he has raised only $5,000 to meet those obligations. He can use whatever financial help is available.
Contributions can be made to: Kevin Olive Defense Fund, c/o Homewood Friends Meeting, 3107 N. Charles St., Baltimore, MD 21218.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Happy Anniversary !
Three years ago there was a great hue and cry for defense of the sanctity of marriage. From what did it need defending? Apparently...me.
Three years ago today, I stood in line at the town hall to apply for a marriage license. After a three day waiting period Mike and I were married.
So tell me -- Please, PLEASE tell me . . . in the three years that I have been living in blissful (but unrecognized) domesticity - almost paying bills, filing taxes, cleaning up cat vomit and dog poo, doing laundry, killing plants and making our house a home (just like you), PLEASE tell me -- how has the sanctity of your marriages been compromised by our marriage?
And what the hell IS the 'sanctity' of marriage ANYWAY?
I'll tell you what it is. 'Defending the sanctity of marriage' is a turn of phrase that strikes an automatic emotional chord. So, without thinking, your brain clicks:
"Sanctity" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Clear, pure, gooooood.
"Marriage" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Love, commitment, gooooood.
"Defend" is a good word, yes, yes, yes. Keep safe, goooooood.
....must...defend...sanctity...of...marriage...
But how many stop to think about it?
What is threatening the sanctity of marriage?
Obviously, it's the gays! (Confident exasperation)
But, wait, how are they a threat?
Because they want to get married! (Rolled eyes)
Again that's a threat, how?
Uh . . . well, my religion says . . .(Self righteously)
Wait. Your religion is not a basis for laws.
Well, then. Marriage is for procreation. (Smug smile)
Explain how my NOT procreating is a threat to YOUR marriage - and then please explain the concept of unwed mothers and childless couples.
It's not natural! (Worried exasperation)
It appears in nature all the time, birds, antelope, bison, the list goes on - and it's still not a threat.
.... (Silence)
Right, now run along and ruin someone else's life.
Here's the point.
Because of the illogical, emotional response of (dare I say it?) idiots, I am denied over 1100 rights and benefits of marriage that protect loved ones and surviving spouses.
Can ANYONE explain why?
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Good Mourning
Dead today at 73.
Let's look at some highlights of his career.
On The 700 Club, talking about the terrorist attacks on 9/11 Falwell said "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"
I will not mourn his passing.
Jerry Falwell's National Liberty Journal had published a "Parents Alert: Tinky Winky Comes Out of the Closet," alarming parents that the Teletubby, Tinky Winky was presented as a gay role model because:
-"He is purple -- the gay-pride color"
-"his antenna is shaped like a triangle -- the gay-pride symbol"
-Tinky Winky, who is played by a male with a male voice, carries a red bag described by Falwell as a "purse"
I will not mourn his passing.
Jerry Falwell supported Apartheid - a system of racial segregation in South Africa.
I will not mourn his passing.
He called Nobel Peace Prize winner and Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu a phony.
I will not mourn his passing.
He was the public face of the Moral Majority which sought to cram an extreme religious agenda down the throats of America.
I will not mourn his passing.
Monday, May 14, 2007
I Lived, Mrs. Burnside!
This past weekend, Mike started working on the last room that remained in the previous owner's eclectic sense of style -- the downstairs bathroom off of the kitchen.
So now, every room in the house is unfinished.
Many of the rooms have only a couple things left to be done.
For instance, the guest room needs crown molding and a different color trim paint.
The living room needs crown molding and paint.
The parlor needs touch up paint and work on the door frame.
The kitchen needs a few more coats of paint, the counters finished and the cabinets either stained or painted.
Just some trim work in the bathroom, sand the plaster and paint.
Crown molding in the hallway - and better curtains.
And the exterior needs the fourth side painted, then a bunch of trim work.
This partial list of very little things, add up to an overwhelming 'honeydew' list.
Why, oh why, don't we just DO them? We do, actually, just not as intensely as some. (Perhaps because there're no harpies in our household to nag, prod and whine.) Because after a bit, the same old job seems tedious and it's always fun to start something new. (Our household is made up of two Geminis.) AND - we have other stuff that's far more distracting to do on the weekends.
Just last weekend I was tie dying with some friends. Made a couple t-shirts, curtains for the kitchen and a tarot cloth. Look at the pictures!
Besides, life is far too full of things we DON'T want to do. In the immortal words of Auntie Mame "You've got to LIVE, Agnes!" So, damn it, I'm going to more than live, I'm going to THRIVE. Too many people go through their days simply existing and surviving from moment to moment. You'e got to fill up those moments with fun stuff!
For example:
Repugnant Raiment with Riparian Entertainment : That was the weekend that a group of us tried to locate THE ugliest dress ever and wear them water skiing. (Still wondering what to do with that bridesmaid dress?)
Pah and Punch Weekend : That was the weekend where every dish was pie and punch. Shepherds Pie, Pot Pies, Pumpkin Pies, Mimosa, Bloody Mary, and a truly awful concoction we called Hair Pie (yes, it involved tuna). For dinner Saturday night, guests were to dress in their interpretation of the theme. One came as a pie bird - which took me forever to fully comprehend.
Cards with friends: All the time. We actually have to retire some cards from overuse. (I've never done that before.) We attended a birthday party recently where the theme was "Play-Cards-Until-Someone-Beats-Chuck-So-Badly-He-Cries." (Which of course, didn't happen.) Here's me dipping my cookies in T's tears.
Crap (Craft) Festivals are marvelous events at which anyone can feel superior. We impose a $2 spending limit and send you off in search of the crappiest piece of crap. All items are judged Best to Worst (by someone who doesn't know the objective) and the Worst winner gets to take home all of the crap.
So in spurts, I work, I knit, I paint, I create, I plant, I play guitar and cards, I love, I live, I thrive. And after a week of WORK and housecleaning and TV - I'm going to do it all again THIS weekend. (Four friends staying over Friday, two on Saturday.)
AND - I have THE most amazing friends with whom to do all these things (I only have quality friends). I refuse to simply exist. I want to LIVE, Mrs. Burnside!
"You've got to learn to make your own music.
You've got to hear the orchestra inside your head." -David Friedman
What are YOU going to do this weekend?
So now, every room in the house is unfinished.
Many of the rooms have only a couple things left to be done.
For instance, the guest room needs crown molding and a different color trim paint.
The living room needs crown molding and paint.
The parlor needs touch up paint and work on the door frame.
The kitchen needs a few more coats of paint, the counters finished and the cabinets either stained or painted.
Just some trim work in the bathroom, sand the plaster and paint.
Crown molding in the hallway - and better curtains.
And the exterior needs the fourth side painted, then a bunch of trim work.
This partial list of very little things, add up to an overwhelming 'honeydew' list.
Why, oh why, don't we just DO them? We do, actually, just not as intensely as some. (Perhaps because there're no harpies in our household to nag, prod and whine.) Because after a bit, the same old job seems tedious and it's always fun to start something new. (Our household is made up of two Geminis.) AND - we have other stuff that's far more distracting to do on the weekends.
Just last weekend I was tie dying with some friends. Made a couple t-shirts, curtains for the kitchen and a tarot cloth. Look at the pictures!
Besides, life is far too full of things we DON'T want to do. In the immortal words of Auntie Mame "You've got to LIVE, Agnes!" So, damn it, I'm going to more than live, I'm going to THRIVE. Too many people go through their days simply existing and surviving from moment to moment. You'e got to fill up those moments with fun stuff!
For example:
Repugnant Raiment with Riparian Entertainment : That was the weekend that a group of us tried to locate THE ugliest dress ever and wear them water skiing. (Still wondering what to do with that bridesmaid dress?)
Pah and Punch Weekend : That was the weekend where every dish was pie and punch. Shepherds Pie, Pot Pies, Pumpkin Pies, Mimosa, Bloody Mary, and a truly awful concoction we called Hair Pie (yes, it involved tuna). For dinner Saturday night, guests were to dress in their interpretation of the theme. One came as a pie bird - which took me forever to fully comprehend.
Cards with friends: All the time. We actually have to retire some cards from overuse. (I've never done that before.) We attended a birthday party recently where the theme was "Play-Cards-Until-Someone-Beats-Chuck-So-Badly-He-Cries." (Which of course, didn't happen.) Here's me dipping my cookies in T's tears.Crap (Craft) Festivals are marvelous events at which anyone can feel superior. We impose a $2 spending limit and send you off in search of the crappiest piece of crap. All items are judged Best to Worst (by someone who doesn't know the objective) and the Worst winner gets to take home all of the crap.
So in spurts, I work, I knit, I paint, I create, I plant, I play guitar and cards, I love, I live, I thrive. And after a week of WORK and housecleaning and TV - I'm going to do it all again THIS weekend. (Four friends staying over Friday, two on Saturday.)
AND - I have THE most amazing friends with whom to do all these things (I only have quality friends). I refuse to simply exist. I want to LIVE, Mrs. Burnside!
"You've got to learn to make your own music.
You've got to hear the orchestra inside your head." -David Friedman
What are YOU going to do this weekend?
Monday, May 07, 2007
Strip Club Epiphanies III - Final Chapter
The stage is set, the announcement has been made . . ."Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to Legs, . . . . Little Sisters !"
[I know, the place is called 'Legs.' How ironic is that?]
Cue music ". . . He met Marmalade down in old New Orleans . . ."
And onto the stage they strutted. Wow.
Pristine white mini Las Vegas showgirl outfits. It took only an instant for our eyes to travel the whole yard (I may be exagerating) from the tips of their feathered headdresses all the past the g-strings and down to the tiny spike heels, but there's no way you can take it all in.
The crowd around the stage cheered and watch and stared and gave their "O" faces.
Little did most of them know, that "Today individuals with short stature generally prefer to be described as 'Dwarfs' or 'Little People.' However, it is more important to respect the human choice, and ask them their preference, or better yet, just use their name. The term midget is very offensive and no longer used."
So, if you would like more information about this topic visit Little People Online.
Many will ask, so I'll try to relate, there are two categories of Dwarfism: Proportionate and Disproportionate. These women were mostly proportionate but had some difficulty with graceful movement. And though they didn't walk fluidly, boy could they crawl and strut and vibrate around the stage.
Each took a position at opposite ends of the oval stage and worked their respective crowds. One of them (the woman nearest me) would approach those sitting by the stage and indicate you should put your bill in your mouth, then she would push her, um, Little Debbie's together with her hands to take the dollar bill from your face. She'd then move to another person, letting the dollar bill flutter to the stage floor - apparently forgotten.
I had to show my appreciation, so as soon as a chair by the stage opened up, I swooped in and sat down. So there I am watching, spellbound, these women who on a raised platform are only slightly taller than I am with my knees at stage level.
But still, I'm watching their faces and what they do. The little person at my end of the stage really did seem to be enjoying herself. She smiled and moved from person to person and lavished attention on everyone who came to the show and there appeared to be a light of mischief in her eyes.
I get the impression that she is a very nice person.
But of course who knows? When she turned away from the crowd, she could've gone to that mental grocery list place. Yes, she was THAT good. Either she was truly having a wonderful time, OR she was a fantastic actress. More so of an actress than the other woman who simply walked, crawled and jiggled around taking dollar bills.
But as much as I wanted to show my appreciation (and equally as much dreaded the "little debbie" trick), the Little Sister may have sensed that in this meat market, I was a vegetarian. So she never came close enough to take my bill. (Next time I'll wear a hillybilly rock t-shirt!)
But it didn't matter ! It was GAME TIME ! They put their g-strings back on (with only a little difficulty) and wedged a clear plastic Dixie cup down there between string and uhm . . . (how do I put this delicately?) . . . down between string and Brazilian wax and began to gyrate near center stage. Apparently, I was the only one new to this game. Immediately the other patrons began wadding up bills and tried to toss them into the constantly moving Dixie cups. If you got a bill in the cup, you won a picture of the two beauties. So here's my chance to show some appreciation.
Wad, toss then miss. "Okay, I'm done."
(Where for hetero's it's Toss Miss then wad, "Okay I'm done." But I digress.)
One of my friends did make the shot (no pun intended), and she shared her prize photo with the others on the train. They girls looked better in the photo, but unless it's a driver's license, photos - especially promotional - always look better. I mean, heck, look at my Blog photo then look at my haircut photo. Bleh.
Okay, so I'm done. I climbed the mountain - so to speak - and had seen all that I came to see. So back to our table and one more beer.
My apologies for the late arrival of this final missive, but there really was a lot to share. And I do think that if you've never been to a gentleman's club, go. It really was a learning experience - and it gives me a great pool of knowledge from which to draw. It even helps me relate better to some of my commuter friends.
One my earlier epiphanies was that you, the client, mean NOTHING to the jiggling girls. I was talking about this to one of the guys on the train, and he said "Good!" And I'm like, oh. Oh yeah. You're right, it really shouldn't have any sort of emotional commitment or obligation. It's all strictly a mechanically physical thing--pretty much like a video game or pinball.
Insert money, press play = here's money, you jiggle.
ob•jec•ti•fy
Pronunciation: (ub-jek'tu-fī"), [key] —v.t., -fied, -fy•ing.
to present as an object, esp. of sight, touch, or other physical sense; make objective; externalize.
Huh. I guess it really does objectify women. Now, my question is, why do some complain that it's a bad thing? And do we ever here as much about men being objectified? (i.e., sexy firemen calendars, Chippendales, shirtless, chiseled underwear models, and ...wow, is it hot in here?)
[I know, the place is called 'Legs.' How ironic is that?]
Cue music ". . . He met Marmalade down in old New Orleans . . ."
And onto the stage they strutted. Wow.
Pristine white mini Las Vegas showgirl outfits. It took only an instant for our eyes to travel the whole yard (I may be exagerating) from the tips of their feathered headdresses all the past the g-strings and down to the tiny spike heels, but there's no way you can take it all in.
The crowd around the stage cheered and watch and stared and gave their "O" faces.
Little did most of them know, that "Today individuals with short stature generally prefer to be described as 'Dwarfs' or 'Little People.' However, it is more important to respect the human choice, and ask them their preference, or better yet, just use their name. The term midget is very offensive and no longer used."
So, if you would like more information about this topic visit Little People Online.
Many will ask, so I'll try to relate, there are two categories of Dwarfism: Proportionate and Disproportionate. These women were mostly proportionate but had some difficulty with graceful movement. And though they didn't walk fluidly, boy could they crawl and strut and vibrate around the stage.
Each took a position at opposite ends of the oval stage and worked their respective crowds. One of them (the woman nearest me) would approach those sitting by the stage and indicate you should put your bill in your mouth, then she would push her, um, Little Debbie's together with her hands to take the dollar bill from your face. She'd then move to another person, letting the dollar bill flutter to the stage floor - apparently forgotten.
I had to show my appreciation, so as soon as a chair by the stage opened up, I swooped in and sat down. So there I am watching, spellbound, these women who on a raised platform are only slightly taller than I am with my knees at stage level.
But still, I'm watching their faces and what they do. The little person at my end of the stage really did seem to be enjoying herself. She smiled and moved from person to person and lavished attention on everyone who came to the show and there appeared to be a light of mischief in her eyes.
I get the impression that she is a very nice person.
But of course who knows? When she turned away from the crowd, she could've gone to that mental grocery list place. Yes, she was THAT good. Either she was truly having a wonderful time, OR she was a fantastic actress. More so of an actress than the other woman who simply walked, crawled and jiggled around taking dollar bills.
But as much as I wanted to show my appreciation (and equally as much dreaded the "little debbie" trick), the Little Sister may have sensed that in this meat market, I was a vegetarian. So she never came close enough to take my bill. (Next time I'll wear a hillybilly rock t-shirt!)
But it didn't matter ! It was GAME TIME ! They put their g-strings back on (with only a little difficulty) and wedged a clear plastic Dixie cup down there between string and uhm . . . (how do I put this delicately?) . . . down between string and Brazilian wax and began to gyrate near center stage. Apparently, I was the only one new to this game. Immediately the other patrons began wadding up bills and tried to toss them into the constantly moving Dixie cups. If you got a bill in the cup, you won a picture of the two beauties. So here's my chance to show some appreciation.
Wad, toss then miss. "Okay, I'm done."
(Where for hetero's it's Toss Miss then wad, "Okay I'm done." But I digress.)
One of my friends did make the shot (no pun intended), and she shared her prize photo with the others on the train. They girls looked better in the photo, but unless it's a driver's license, photos - especially promotional - always look better. I mean, heck, look at my Blog photo then look at my haircut photo. Bleh.
Okay, so I'm done. I climbed the mountain - so to speak - and had seen all that I came to see. So back to our table and one more beer.
My apologies for the late arrival of this final missive, but there really was a lot to share. And I do think that if you've never been to a gentleman's club, go. It really was a learning experience - and it gives me a great pool of knowledge from which to draw. It even helps me relate better to some of my commuter friends.
One my earlier epiphanies was that you, the client, mean NOTHING to the jiggling girls. I was talking about this to one of the guys on the train, and he said "Good!" And I'm like, oh. Oh yeah. You're right, it really shouldn't have any sort of emotional commitment or obligation. It's all strictly a mechanically physical thing--pretty much like a video game or pinball.
Insert money, press play = here's money, you jiggle.
ob•jec•ti•fy
Pronunciation: (ub-jek'tu-fī"), [key] —v.t., -fied, -fy•ing.
to present as an object, esp. of sight, touch, or other physical sense; make objective; externalize.
Huh. I guess it really does objectify women. Now, my question is, why do some complain that it's a bad thing? And do we ever here as much about men being objectified? (i.e., sexy firemen calendars, Chippendales, shirtless, chiseled underwear models, and ...wow, is it hot in here?)
Sunday, April 29, 2007
A man of my word.
What can I say? In my quest for college funds...I set a price list - oh, the things I'll do for money. 
One of the items was "$500 and I'll cut my hair." Well, someone has met my price.
One of the items was "$500 and I'll cut my hair." Well, someone has met my price.
Friday, April 27, 2007
The Cheerleader and the Quiet Car
."
"You haven't heard about the Cheerleader?" Skidmark asked with obvious glee.
"Oh no, not that story again." Jokeman whined.
"No, tell it!" Jamaica begged "It's a good story and she doesn't know. She wasn't ridin' den."
Skidmark assumed storytelling position, "Alright, alright. Gather 'round."
"Wait, wait." Jokeman opened a beer, "You want one Pahl?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay, I'm ready."
"There was this guy...." Skidmark started in a timid voice.
"Fez!" everyone cheered.
"With a 23 inch . . . No, seriously, there was this girl about two years ago, who..."
"No it was longer than that," Pahl interupted "because Mitch was still riding when it happened and he hasn't been . . ."
"It doesn't matter! Who's telling the story anyway? Come on. So, anyway, a while back -- is that okay?" Skidmark glared -- "A while back there was this hot, hot, hot girl riding the train from D.C. All the guys noticed her because she was wearing THE classic sexy cheerleader outfit."
"I noticed her too!" Insisted Jamaica.
"Okay, all the guys and you."
"I didn't notice her."
"Okay, Jamaica and all the guys except Jokeman."
"Jamaica, I thought you liked the Amazon-type women." Jokeman asked.
"I can like more than one type of girl." She defended, "As long as dey're breathin.'"
"Well this chick was no Amazon" Skidmark continued "-- more like your classic helpless female type. You know, the kind you see in horror movies. So, apparently, she'd spent a long day in the city and decided to sleep in the quiet car on the ride home."
"Horror movie, helpless Cheerleader." The newbie summed up, "Okay, I can see where this is going."
"Nobody knows if she knew it was the quiet car 'cause we'd never seen her before. All we have are sightings of her there, draped - rather indelicately - across three seats.
"I almost got sat on once when I did that." Pahl threw in.
Skidmark plowed on, "These are confirmed sightings, because the way she was laid out provided quite a view. And when we heard about it, some folks had to make a few trips to the restroom in that car just for, uh, exploratory purposes."
Pahl continued, oblivious, with his own story "It was by Big Joan - the one who wears the pink coat all the time - looks like an elephant from a kid's show? I would've died, I know it. You ever see the cartoon of the big woman putting up posters for her lost dog and you can see him stuck in . . ."
"Anyway . . ." Began Skidmark impatiently.
"Sorry, but she really is . . ."
"ANYWAY! ! !" [GLARE]
[Eye roll.]
"So anyway, her bag and stuff was stowed up on the overhead rack, and she's laying across the seats asleep, which was already earning her some angry looks from the quiet car folks. But then her phone went off."
A gasp of disbelief escaped the lips of the regulars with a good mix of "No!" and "Oh my God."
"But wait! There's more. She was asleep and didn't hear the first couple bars of her ringtone. Some obnoxious pop song, I think. Everyone else heard it, though. ALL eyes in the car were instantly open and shooting daggers at her. And a few of them started to stir and groan, like zombies rising from the graves."
"When she finally heard it, it was too late. It was in one of the overhead bags. It really was like one of those horror movies. The phone music was still going off and she was fumbling with her bags trying to find it, and she doesn't notice all the while that the quiet car zombies had started moving toward her. Slow. Menacing-like. Groaning and reaching for her."
"And I think" Skidmark reflected "that if she had just turned the thing off when she found it, things might have gone differently."
"What?" Asked the newbie nervously, "What did she do?"
"She, are you ready for this?" Skidmark paused and looked around. "She answered the phone."
Again, the crowd gasped, this time mingled with cries of disbelief, "No!"
"Yes!" Said Skidmark. "She answered the phone. 'Hello? Oh, HI Susan!' or something like that, and THEN she noticed all the zombies were closing in and she stopped talking. I don't know if she stopped on purpose or 'Susan' was talking then or if she suddenly understood the danger she was in. But she's not talking, she's backing up, because zombies are crammed in the aisle and pushing toward her while others are climbing and reaching over the seats to get at the cheerleader with the phone."
"They sort of herded her to the little alcove at the end of their car next to the engine. A witness on the scene . . ."
"Who?" Asked Pahl.
"Hmm?"
"Who was the witness?"
"Andy." Said three or four regulars at once.
"Andy?" Jokeman looked around in disbelief. "Kwazy Andy, the guy that quacks to himself under his breath?"
"Yep. And this is probably why he's 'Kwazy Andy' - because he used to be a quiet car regular. He saw the whole thing."
"Wow." Whispered the newbie.
"Yeh. He said he only caught a final glimpse of her through the mass of bodies and reaching hands and it looked as though she was about to scream but then the train whistle blew and he couldn't see her anymore."
"Wow" came the wide-eyed whisper again, "What did they do to her?"
"Nobody knows and Andy never said. She just...disappeared. We didn't see her get off at any of the stops. And we've never seen her since
"You haven't heard about the Cheerleader?" Skidmark asked with obvious glee."Oh no, not that story again." Jokeman whined.
"No, tell it!" Jamaica begged "It's a good story and she doesn't know. She wasn't ridin' den."
Skidmark assumed storytelling position, "Alright, alright. Gather 'round."
"Wait, wait." Jokeman opened a beer, "You want one Pahl?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay, I'm ready."
"There was this guy...." Skidmark started in a timid voice.
"Fez!" everyone cheered.
"With a 23 inch . . . No, seriously, there was this girl about two years ago, who..."
"No it was longer than that," Pahl interupted "because Mitch was still riding when it happened and he hasn't been . . ."
"It doesn't matter! Who's telling the story anyway? Come on. So, anyway, a while back -- is that okay?" Skidmark glared -- "A while back there was this hot, hot, hot girl riding the train from D.C. All the guys noticed her because she was wearing THE classic sexy cheerleader outfit."
"I noticed her too!" Insisted Jamaica.
"Okay, all the guys and you."
"I didn't notice her."
"Okay, Jamaica and all the guys except Jokeman."
"Jamaica, I thought you liked the Amazon-type women." Jokeman asked.
"I can like more than one type of girl." She defended, "As long as dey're breathin.'"
"Well this chick was no Amazon" Skidmark continued "-- more like your classic helpless female type. You know, the kind you see in horror movies. So, apparently, she'd spent a long day in the city and decided to sleep in the quiet car on the ride home."
"Horror movie, helpless Cheerleader." The newbie summed up, "Okay, I can see where this is going."
"Nobody knows if she knew it was the quiet car 'cause we'd never seen her before. All we have are sightings of her there, draped - rather indelicately - across three seats.
"I almost got sat on once when I did that." Pahl threw in.
Skidmark plowed on, "These are confirmed sightings, because the way she was laid out provided quite a view. And when we heard about it, some folks had to make a few trips to the restroom in that car just for, uh, exploratory purposes."
Pahl continued, oblivious, with his own story "It was by Big Joan - the one who wears the pink coat all the time - looks like an elephant from a kid's show? I would've died, I know it. You ever see the cartoon of the big woman putting up posters for her lost dog and you can see him stuck in . . ."
"Anyway . . ." Began Skidmark impatiently.
"Sorry, but she really is . . ."
"ANYWAY! ! !" [GLARE]
[Eye roll.]
"So anyway, her bag and stuff was stowed up on the overhead rack, and she's laying across the seats asleep, which was already earning her some angry looks from the quiet car folks. But then her phone went off."
A gasp of disbelief escaped the lips of the regulars with a good mix of "No!" and "Oh my God."
"But wait! There's more. She was asleep and didn't hear the first couple bars of her ringtone. Some obnoxious pop song, I think. Everyone else heard it, though. ALL eyes in the car were instantly open and shooting daggers at her. And a few of them started to stir and groan, like zombies rising from the graves."
"When she finally heard it, it was too late. It was in one of the overhead bags. It really was like one of those horror movies. The phone music was still going off and she was fumbling with her bags trying to find it, and she doesn't notice all the while that the quiet car zombies had started moving toward her. Slow. Menacing-like. Groaning and reaching for her."
"And I think" Skidmark reflected "that if she had just turned the thing off when she found it, things might have gone differently."
"What?" Asked the newbie nervously, "What did she do?"
"She, are you ready for this?" Skidmark paused and looked around. "She answered the phone."
Again, the crowd gasped, this time mingled with cries of disbelief, "No!"
"Yes!" Said Skidmark. "She answered the phone. 'Hello? Oh, HI Susan!' or something like that, and THEN she noticed all the zombies were closing in and she stopped talking. I don't know if she stopped on purpose or 'Susan' was talking then or if she suddenly understood the danger she was in. But she's not talking, she's backing up, because zombies are crammed in the aisle and pushing toward her while others are climbing and reaching over the seats to get at the cheerleader with the phone."
"They sort of herded her to the little alcove at the end of their car next to the engine. A witness on the scene . . ."
"Who?" Asked Pahl.
"Hmm?"
"Who was the witness?"
"Andy." Said three or four regulars at once.
"Andy?" Jokeman looked around in disbelief. "Kwazy Andy, the guy that quacks to himself under his breath?"
"Yep. And this is probably why he's 'Kwazy Andy' - because he used to be a quiet car regular. He saw the whole thing."
"Wow." Whispered the newbie.
"Yeh. He said he only caught a final glimpse of her through the mass of bodies and reaching hands and it looked as though she was about to scream but then the train whistle blew and he couldn't see her anymore."
"Wow" came the wide-eyed whisper again, "What did they do to her?"
"Nobody knows and Andy never said. She just...disappeared. We didn't see her get off at any of the stops. And we've never seen her since
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Partial Scholarship
Scholarship n. Finanical aid awarded to a student.
I got a phone call yesterday from the University.
25% of my tuition has been waived because of my outstanding GPA !
Woo hoo!
There's still a long way to go, and you can still help.
Click on the PayPal logo over on the right and send a donation to the Chuck Walker Scholarship fund at poizniv@gmail.com.
You can also send some positive energy my way. I've been going in circles with the admissions office.
I'm transfering quite a few old credits to complete my English/Education degree. (The goal is high-school to adult English teacher.) With the transfer credits, all but a couple of the oddball general requirements are done. Now I've only got to take English (Lit.) and Education classes.
That makes it tough to fill up to the max on per semester credits. (Usually a schedule is dotted with core classes then fleshed out with general requirements.) This coming Fall there are only one or two ways for me to get an 18 credit load out of the courses being offered because of conflicting schedules, limited sessions offered, and so on.
What makes it even tougher, is current continuing students are registering NOW for seats in the pitifully few classes from which I have to choose. (Studies in Chaucer and Milton has already closed! AAAGH!)
Transfer students don't even get to talk to anyone until JUNE! That's when I'm assigned an advisor (a harried stranger who glances at my case for the first time) and (I think) can register. So, I'm sitting here watching the available seats dwindle and there's NOTHING I can do about it. Grrrr.
Must . . .relax . . .
I got a phone call yesterday from the University.
25% of my tuition has been waived because of my outstanding GPA !
Woo hoo!
There's still a long way to go, and you can still help.
Click on the PayPal logo over on the right and send a donation to the Chuck Walker Scholarship fund at poizniv@gmail.com.
You can also send some positive energy my way. I've been going in circles with the admissions office.
I'm transfering quite a few old credits to complete my English/Education degree. (The goal is high-school to adult English teacher.) With the transfer credits, all but a couple of the oddball general requirements are done. Now I've only got to take English (Lit.) and Education classes.
That makes it tough to fill up to the max on per semester credits. (Usually a schedule is dotted with core classes then fleshed out with general requirements.) This coming Fall there are only one or two ways for me to get an 18 credit load out of the courses being offered because of conflicting schedules, limited sessions offered, and so on.
What makes it even tougher, is current continuing students are registering NOW for seats in the pitifully few classes from which I have to choose. (Studies in Chaucer and Milton has already closed! AAAGH!)
Transfer students don't even get to talk to anyone until JUNE! That's when I'm assigned an advisor (a harried stranger who glances at my case for the first time) and (I think) can register. So, I'm sitting here watching the available seats dwindle and there's NOTHING I can do about it. Grrrr.
Must . . .relax . . .
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Quiet Car
As I have said previously, regular commuters tend to find and use the same car of the train every time they ride. These cars, then, become known by a certain name and by its own peculiarities. I, for example, ride in the Loud Car, also falsely known as the Party Car. The actual Party Car is another portion of the train who perhaps used to party hearty, but not nearly as much as the Loud Car does now. Logically, if there is a loud car, there is also a quiet car. This is actually a train-approved practice to designate one car as THE quiet car. There are signs and announcements and everything.
"Welcome to the ssskkkrtttch train headed to skrtttackleshh will stop at shhhkreetech. There are two restrooms osshhkererrtrain one is in the last car one shhshrt next to the motor. The quiet car is the car next to the motor. Once again thsskehrkt....."
Now the kinds of people who ride in the quiet car have an AWFUL reputation. It's quite probable that they are very nice people but you wouldn't know it. A simple sneeze or audible (albeit unexpected) passing of gas is enough to get the most evil of looks from the sweetest of ladies. A whispered conversation will get you a "SHHH!" from fellow passengers and, oh, you'd better hope you remembered to turn off your cell phone. It's like the library, only in Hell.
I've ridden in the quiet car a couple times - just when I'm feeling anti-social - and I don't find it very relaxing at all. The hostility is palpable and it's not really that quiet being right next to the engine and whistle, and with the announcements at each stop and the constant stream of people coming through to the restroom. "Is someone in there?" "SHHHHH !"
For the most part, the folks in that car tend to quietly glare or sleep with their heads back against the seat and mouth agape. (I often wish I had the nerve, the aim and a little toy gun to shoot Tic Tacs in their mouth as I pass by.)
Picture it--The Quiet Car Regular sleeps fitfully, mouth agape, dreaming of the next mob riot, and all of a sudden ZZIPP!! "GACK! HACK! COUGH! I think I swallowed a minty bug!"
"SHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coming soon, the story of the Cheerleader in the Quiet Car.
"SHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coming soon, the story of the Cheerleader in the Quiet Car.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
In Transit
I've added a new feature to this blog, over on the right, below the picture. It's a countdown! It counts down to my last day commuting to D.C. for work. It should reach zero as I begin my two-hour journey home on that day.But I have to tell you, as much as I won't miss the commute, I might miss some of the characters on the train. It's five improv (not for children) performances a week, Monday through Friday, starting promptly at 4:55. Get there early so you can get a good seat.
As creatures of habit, regular commuters tend to find a particular car and ride in it every time, creating a melting pot of personalities --
-loud, quiet,
-black, white, tan
-gay, straight, indifferent, homophobic, closeted,
-effervescent, abrasive,
-thoughtful, thoughtless,
-lawyers, waitresses, cubicle drones,
-generous, poor,
-old, young, new --
Take all of these ingredients, add alcohol, train delays, out-of-order restrooms, unreliable HVAC, and frequent light-hearted and sometimes filthy insults.
-black, white, tan
-gay, straight, indifferent, homophobic, closeted,
-effervescent, abrasive,
-thoughtful, thoughtless,
-lawyers, waitresses, cubicle drones,
-generous, poor,
-old, young, new --
Take all of these ingredients, add alcohol, train delays, out-of-order restrooms, unreliable HVAC, and frequent light-hearted and sometimes filthy insults.
Pour into tight quarters on the upper gallery of a Chicago car.
Sprinkle the mix with unsuspecting, infrequent commuters who sit down below--
- the occasional tee-totaller who glares at the freely-passed bottles of beer or liquor
- the woman who thought she'd sleep all the way home
- the prude
- the sourpuss
(It will stir itself).
Finally, just for color, garnish with a hot college girl next to the homosexual.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Prissmas is coming! Prissmas is coming!
Prissmastime is almost here. So unclench and get ready for a stream of "I told you so!"You may not know that each year, for several years now, we've been celebrating Prissmas in April. Traditionally, Prissmas falls on the Saturday nearest Hitler's birthday. We make this reference not because of any affinity for Hitler, but because it's fun to point out that Lady Prisspott shares the same birthday - perhaps even the same year, we can't be sure, (there's an eraser hole in Prisspott's birth certificate).
"What," you ask, "is Prissmas?"
Prissmas is the celebration of the spirit of "I told you so."
You told your dear, dear friend the Dorothy Hammell look went away with the previous century, but did she listen? No. She went and got the awful bob and is now telecommuting until her hair grows out. You've been tactfully supportive and understanding, but now it's PRISSMAS! Call her up and scream "I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET THAT HAIRCUT!" then bask in a warm feeling that's reminiscent of peeing in the pool.
Let's get you started on YOUR Prissmas celebration.
Traditional Garb:
An apron and lei. You can wear other things in addition to the apron and lei, but it's not required.
Decorations:
A dead tree branch, painted pink. Stick it in the ground outside and adorn it with rats and crabs. The original Prissmas tree also had plastic martini glasses and orange ribbon.
Food:
Anything that can be cooked in a bonfire that would at first cause one to think, "Hmmm. No. I'm not eating that." But in actuality, really isn't half bad.
Mountain Pies: Two slices of bread, slathered with anything, enclosed in a pie iron and stuck into the bonfire.
Pre-Packaged Stuff: Bags of chips, cookies, easily shared finger foods in burnable packages.
Beverages:
Liquor. There's no explanation necessary. Liquor is liquor. You know what to do. Besides, it'll help loosen your tongue. "I told you those pants made you look . . . fatter."
Beer. For those who have to drive.
Other. It doesn't matter which. In fact, don't even bother. If someone needs to drink 'other' beverages, they're probably not at your Prissmas gathering.
Events:
Prissmas Bonfire: It's not Prissmas without a bonfire. And it's not a Prissmas bonfire unless it's secretly doused with gas before some unsuspecting fool lights it (THWOOM!) More than a few eyebrows have been lost in this manner. For many months we've been carting our scrap wood and burnables out to the field at Prisspott Manor and piling high the Prissmas pyre.
The Bonfire Ballet: You set your chairs up around the, as yet unlit, bonfire and chat and gab with your 'friends.' Of course (ala Musical Chairs) there's never enough chairs for everyone, so some have to stand around and chat. THWOOM! You get up from the ground, shield your face from the fire while reaching for your overturned chair to pull it further away from the fire to a more comfortable temperature. (Like, say, Cleveland.) Those without an original chair can take this moment to snag a chair from one of the other people who haven't yet come to. The fire begins to burn down a bit and you start to notice the nip in the air. So you scootch your chair closer. You might take this opportunity to refill your drink - or, if you're drinking from the bottle, to open another. Again - people without a chair can take this refill time to commandeer a seat for themselves. Rinse and repeat.
The Who-Catches-On-Fire-First-Pool (Also known as Flaming Queen): This is probably self-explanatory, given the details of the Prissmas Bonfire. In our circles, we can't actually have the betting pool, because everyone predicts it will be Lady Prisspott. Clearly, she's a crowd favorite, what with the tree incident, and the flaming gas can incident, and, well, these would just take up an entirely different blog entry to explain. Suffice it to say, she's a shoe-in to win every year. (Sometimes, when the spirit of Prissmas hits us, we even try to set her on fire at other times of the year. What fun.
Liquor Spitter: Take a swig of cheap, gosh-awful-tasting liquor straight from the bottle. Swagger as close to the bonfire as you (safely?) can. Spit the liquor into the bonfire. The bigger the FWOOSH!--the more right you are when you said 'I told you so.' You'll need others to watch, because after the FWOOSH, you're either getting sick from the icky booze or running around screaming "MY EYES! MY EYES!" like a big sissy.
Walk the Plank: You did it when you were little, why did you ever stop? It's the let's-see-how-this-burns game. Take those little plastic soldier men and afix them to the end of a stick, then put him in the fire! "I'm melllllltingggg!" Empty wine bottle? Most of them melt (some may even explode - or so I'm told by old One Eye). Place it in the perfect spot of glowing embers and argue with the others who try to move it with the stick to the OTHER perfect spot. (The next afternoon, you can collect from the ashes anything that didn't entirely burn up and make jewelry!)
Prissmas Carols: Bore your friends to tears by singing EVERY LAST Prissmas carol in your own Prissmas Carol Book. Here's the first ever Prissmas Carol.
Prissmas is Coming
(To the tune of Christmas is Coming - and can be sung in a round!)
Prissmas is coming
We’ll rub it in your face
Time to bust your chops and
Put you in your place
If you’ve had a lapse in judgement
(A small faux pas will do)
If you’ve made a slight mistake
You know that we’ll tell you
We’ll tell you!
The Burning of the Prissmas Tree:
After you've removed your keepsake crabs and rats, the Prissmas tree is 'uprooted' and with great whooping and fanfare, tossed onto the bonfire. You may even choose to sing O Prissmas Tree.
O Prissmas Tree
(To the tune of O Christmas Tree)
O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
We’re so much more superior
O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
You can kiss our posterior
We’ve come to say “I told you so!”
And lift our thumbs up to our nose.
O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
We know that you’re inferior.
The greatest compliment that can ever be bestowed upon a Prissmas event hostess is -- "You've RURNT Prissmas!" And it must be pronounced 'rurnt.' (It means ruined.) If someone says this to you at Prissmastime, it means you've sufficiently shattered any hopes that some faux pas they've performed over the past year has been forgotten. You've crossed the line then. It's progressed from a frivolous outting of light-hearted, friendly jabs to the true meaning of Prissmas, self satisfaction that you were, indeed, right. And now, everyone knows it.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Thank you for your generosity !
My hopes of a smooth transition to college life is becoming a reality. The donations have started pouring in from all over the country.
Well, THE donation has poured in and it should put a dent into the price of some books.
I promise that everything donated to this college endeavor will be used for college.
So, pull out your change jars and dig in the sofa. Pennies make dollars!
And I swear, we will NOT eat Dora.
Well, THE donation has poured in and it should put a dent into the price of some books.
I promise that everything donated to this college endeavor will be used for college.
So, pull out your change jars and dig in the sofa. Pennies make dollars!
And I swear, we will NOT eat Dora.
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