I cleaned the top of the fridge and the counter by the fridge today, to kill time in anticipation of what I always call the “Boring Bowl.” It usually is. I found several things I’d saved, scraps of paper with dubious writing ideas on them. Herewith you will find a cornucopia of crap:
(oh, by the way, that last one with the down arrow is on the FRONT of the t-shirt)
or this one: “It’s hard to be humble when your a great speller.”
For that matter: “It’s hard to be humble when your a Engish teacher!”
This one may not get the results I’m hoping for at happy hour, but I’m hoping it’ll get a few chuckles before the first slap: “There’s nothing about you that doesn’t say WHORE.”
Email spam I’ve received:
–Make knob bulging!
–By enhancing your friend down there you enhance your popularity.
–Potion for boy-on-girl heat.
–It makes you a stallion!
–Nothing gives you more confidence than a big device.
–Your life will be worthwhile if your penis grows a little.
–Tired of girls searching for your little friend in bed, not being able to find it?
–You can be ugly and stupid as long as your shaft is big.
(I’ve never really been a conspiracy theorist, but I’m detecting a theme here and I don’t care for it at all.)
I like this one from “Wenona” better:
–You might not keep me in your mind but I know what makes you vicious and wicked. (Yes, you know me don’t you, Wenona?)
Random things I wrote down:
–Being born again leads to mental atrophy, study finds.
–What the box says: “Product may not be exactly as shown.” What they really mean: “Product may suck ass in some really annoying way.”
–A lot of affairs and heartbreak and generally bad relationships, not to mention ruined parties, would have been avoided over the years if we’d all only heeded the advice of my daughter. She had a little tea party set up with several stuffed animals as “guests”. I had to bring my own chair and sit on the corner between 2 of the “guests”. I picked up baby Nola (from “The Lion King”) and hugged her (as any parent will do, I think, to get a rise out of their child), which prompted my daughter to admonish me with “Don’t touch the guests!”
–John Wayne in “McClintock”: “(So and so), I came close to killing you a couple times in my younger years. Saddens me I didn’t.”
–Section 601 from the old TV show “Dragnet”: “an idle, dissolute, or immoral life.” (Sign me up!)
Partial lyrics that I wrote for a country song:
She got new boobs on her 17th birthday
They’re bigger than a linebacker’s head
She took me round the world on her 18th birthday
In her momma’s big 4-poster bed
With a trunk full of weed and her big Double-Ds
We financed our way to LA
We stole her momma’s car, and with my beat-up old guitar
We found a little place to play
She sang pretty well and she looked even better
And I played some mean country licks
She’d shimmy and she’d shake and we’d get a decent take
Of the money from the hard-drinkin’ hicks
Then one night with a head full of whisky
I sold my last little bag of buds
Fella said it made his lady get just a little crazy
But he really was a narc name of Jud.
Two years later I said bye to my new friends
Went lookin’ for her right away
Well it seems her and Jud had become very good friends
And got married while I was away.
I knocked him and his grin right offa his barstool
And got ready to finish him off
But a lady name of Jane wiggled right in between us
And took me on back to her loft
She had a little shop couple blocks off of Sunset
(that’s it for that one for now, but I’m sure it’ll be a huge hit)
The etiquette lady that I wrote about the other day, Margery Wilson, was actually a very pretty silent film actress and a director who quit the film business to become a housewife. But she also wrote a bunch of advice and etiquette books. I won’t go into great detail here; Bing her if you want to learn some cool stuff. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? I can’t stand Microsoft, but I thought I’d try it out. Do you suppose that’s what they are required to say in the Gates household? Bill: “Sorry, honey, I even snorted some of the Viagra and it still doesn’t seem to work.” Mrs. G: “Hmmmmph, let’s BING it and see if that’s ever happened before.” Anyway, after Googling Margery Wilson the other day, I found this little gem of a quote from her daughter: “My mother is a beautiful white angel but she talks too much.”
All good things must come to an end. This blogpost actually does two things–it keeps me from paying any attention to that awful game, and it allows me to shred embarrassing scraps of paper. Yeah, they’re on the internet forever and my hard drive, but my daughter will actually have to click on the stuff rather than pick up a piece of paper. There is one (well, two–I suppose I’ll keep the song lyrics for now) that I’ll probably save for a while. It’s a quote from a friend of mine, a lady who is mostly retired, in her early 50s, who winters with her hubby in the Southeast and works in our store in the summer in the garden area. She is funny and is nice as the day is long, but she gets very fed up with people, especially young folks, who don’t pull their weight in the garden center and who whine all the time. We’ll call her “Lila”. One evening last summer she had to confess to her boss (we’ll call him “Bill”): “Bill, I’m probably going to be in trouble for something I said to some of my co-workers.”
Bill starts laughing. “What did you do now?”
Lila starts telling him the situation, how all of them had been shirking their duties and whining about the least little things that they had to do, and, she said, she finally got fed up and told them, “Right now I could put all 5 of you in a box and blow it straight to hell and be out nothing!”
Well, I might as well clean some more or write some fiction or find a movie to watch. “Anybody-but-Seattle” isn’t doing very good so far, and it’s only halftime of the “Stupid Bowl”, the “(drink yourself into a) Stupor Bowl”; it’s on its way to becoming a world class embarrassment for all that is good and decent in the world if “Anybody-but-Seattle” loses this game this pathetically.
My friend Anna at girlinthehat clued me in to this song, which I swear I’d never heard before. I didn’t know Leonard Cohen had done anything even better than “Bird on a Wire.” After several hours of research, my new favorite version of this is from John Cale, ex- of the Velvet Underground. I was going to put this up on FB or somewhere when the CheaterHawks lost the Stupid Bowl, but that’s a cheap waste of a good song even if the game had turned out that way, so instead I’ll dedicate it to the theme of “It’s one day closer to spring.” “Hallelujah”: