Random Esquire

1.  You may recall that The Ballerina is known for saying things no one else would say.  The other day, we were talking about bosses and managing people and how it can be difficult and she said this:

“Yeah…you gotta own that shit…

…like a lazy eye.”

*Blink*

I think I coughed on my coffee.

2.  The Italian and his girlfriend have parted ways.  We were discussing this and somehow, the topic of faces came up.  (You know…like, how women have 75 different looks and 73 of them mean stop what you’re doing right now.)  The Italian said he has a face.  I asked what it was.  He said, “The please fuck me face.  It’s a look that says, ‘Please fuck me. I would be oh-so-appreciative if you would.’”  Then he laughed until he coughed.

3.  I think I’m finally ready to date seriously.  Those of you who know me know that I’ve sort of fought it tooth and nail but that’s over.  And I’m pretty damn happy about that.  Obviously, though, my behavior had to change.  While on the phone with Besos tonight, we were laughing about how I’ve just become comfortable with the idea of dating seriously.

I said, “You broke me!”

She said, with a fair bit of indignation, “What did you say?”

I said, “I said you broke me!”

She snorted and said, “No…I fixed you.”

1.  Someone found my blog by searching for: “why do i love my whore wife?”

NOT OKAY.  But pretty funny.

2.  Someone else found his or her way here after looking for “Sarah Palin Mouth Vagina.”

Okay, I know what this is about…it’s about a joke that’s going around – “What’s the difference between Sarah Palin’s mouth and her vagina?”

If you don’t know the answer…well, I e-mail me.  I’ll spare readers unless there is some sort of demand for the answer.

3.  *sigh* And yet someone else found me by looking for “Tina Turner and Diana Ross.”

THE SHAME.  It burns!

Okay, so I have this Mexican Spanish Phrasebook and I was reading stuff to Besos because she likes it when I sound like an idiot.

Me, thinking I’m very funny, said, “I better learn how to say this…Es una amiga, nada mas!”  Which means, basically, she’s just a friend.  She snorted at me and said something about me assuming we’d date long enough for me to learn the phrase.

Then I found a phrase that’s used when you think your partner is cheating on you and roughly translated, it means, “Are you putting horns on my head?”  So I said to her, “Me esta poniendo los cuernos?!”

Without skipping a beat, she laughed and rattled off something in Spanish.  I said, “What’s that mean??”

She said, “It means Yes, I’ve been cheating on you for the last five months with your best friend.”

FTW!  Spanish is fun!

Sometimes I enjoy the impression of a feeling more than the feeling itself.  In fact, sometimes the feeling itself would be sort of horrible but the impression of the feeling is sort of awesome.  I’m not sure that makes sense without an example.

Like…sometimes, when Besos and I are kissing, she puts her hand on my chest and sort of presses me back and it’s almost like she’s pushing me away but I know she isn’t.  But I sort of like it.  Of course, if someone truly pushed me away, that’d be a horrible feeling and I wouldn’t enjoy it.  But for some reason, because I know she isn’t really doing it, the playfulness of it is appealing.

Another thing that comes to mind…the other day, Besos and I were laughing about something and I grinned and said that I liked feeling like I was getting away with something.  Now, in reality, that feeling doesn’t appeal to me because I would just feel guilty but when it’s playful and not at all deceitful…I sort of dig it.

I told this to QTMama.  She chalked it up as a ‘guy thing’.  Is it?  Boss and I went to dinner tonight and I asked her and she rolled her eyes at me and said I was easy.  I just asked Besos if I was easy.  She said, “Easy to please, in that sense. If you get the attention you want…you’re happy. It’s simple…”

I AM NOT AN ANIMAL.

1.  I don’t know why I called this a Punchlist.  I was just thinking about someone I wanted to punch so maybe that did it.  Is there anyone you’d truly enjoy punching?

I might enjoy punching John Goodman.

2.  It’s getting cold here in Chicago and going to really dip down on Sunday.  DO NOT WANT.

3.  The Ballerina has a reputation of saying things no one else would say.  Like, “How much money do you make?”  I once sent a dinner invitation e-mail that said, “Come any time after 6:30.”  She responded with, “I’ll be there around 6.”  A few weeks ago, I suggested we have another dinner at my house.  She said, “I’m only going to come if it has a fall theme.”  We’re getting together on Sunday and belatedly celebrating her birthday.  I said that I’d have cake.  She said, “I don’t like chocolate cake.”

It occurs to me that The Ballerina could end most of her sentences with, “…just an FYI.”  Sort of like how you can make anything sound dirty if you end it with, “…if you know what I mean.”

I almost accidentally killed Little Filthy yesterday.  Here’s the thing:  After Little Filthy eats, he drinks an entire bowl of water.  He eats all his food, drinks, then licks the food bowl repeatedly, then drinks some more, then licks the food bowl again – back and forth until every last bit is gone.  Then he uses the bathroom repeatedly.  This is normal for him.

The other day, I noticed a full water bowl despite the fact that he’d just eaten.  It was the same way the next morning and he didn’t drink much in between.  I started to put more water into his food.  But then I had this brilliant idea of dropping some small treats into his water bowl.  I dropped in a few.  They floated around on the surface and he was able to fish them out relatively easily, not drinking too much.  I thought maybe if I had treats that sank to the bottom, he’d have to drink the water first before he could get to the treat.  So I decided I’d slice up some banana and stick it to the bottom of his bowl before filling it with water (See #3e here).  But then I realized something about Little Fitlhy.

I won’t lie.  He’s not a Rhodes Scholar.  He can’t herd sheep, lead a blind man across the street, or even consistently come when you call him.  He’s more likely to bang his head into a wall from running too fast, eat a dirty kleenex (see #3 here) or drag your underwear across a room (See here or #2 here…or #1 here).  It occurred to me that, considering his love of bananas, he’d probably go nose down and try to fish it out and probably drown himself in the process.

At that thought, the banana slice dropped from my hand back on to the counter.  So much for that idea.  So instead, I cut a small piece of banana and mashed it with the side of a knife and then whisked it into a big bowl of water.  He drank it all.  Two bowls of it.

Yeah.  I probably need a girlfriend, huh?

1.  I came home and found that Amazon Claus had delivered my two new HDMI cables.  Love is in the air.  If you don’t know the import of this…well, your vagina is showing.  (kidding…kidding…)

2.  I listened to my voicemails and sure enough, Kristin Chenoweth had left me another message, asking me out.  I hate to keep turning her down but I’m off the blondes.  Well, more or less.  Maybe.

Who the hell knows.  Except that she totally didn’t call me.

But I’m not giving up hope.

3.  Churro eyed the photos I took while at the S&M party at Marche, here.  There were two pictures of two different blondes.  I said we’d each take one and asked which one he wanted.  He looked at me blankly.  I said, “Which one?!“  He said, “That’s like asking me if I’d rather have a million dollars in gold coins or a million dollars in silver coins.”

Touche.

4.  Okay, so, I’m totally not off the blondes.

Whatever.

5.  Speaking of blondes, QTMama IM’d me today and I was reminded of a conversation we had about a week ago.  I was talking to her about relationships and at one point, she said, “You did that? That’s something only men do.“  I paused and then said, “Do what?”  I could practically hear her sigh.

1.  This Indian woman goes out into the field to cut some grass for her cattle.  A man who’d allegedly been stalking her attacked her.  So she cut of his head with her sickle.  And then she walked on down to the village, carrying his head.  She said she had no regret.

Don’t fuck with an Indian woman.  She ain’t playin’.

2.  This dude at a 15 pound hamburger…with a cup of mayo on it.  And a cup of ketchup, a cup of mustard, and a cup of relish.  Total weight? 20.2 pounds.  That’s going to take a full bottle of Maalox to cure.  When asked why he did it, he said, “I wanted to see if I could.”

Welcome to the modern-day fat America moutain that needs climbing.

3.  This shouldn’t crack me up but it does.  This woman gets so drunk, she has her 9 year old drive.  They get pulled over when cops notice how tiny the driver is.  Dude.  Parenting FAIL.

1.  Those wildfires are hard to watch.  Especially when you learn that someone started it.  For some reason, it’s almost worse to me when someone accidentally starts it – like a kid who plays with a match and ends up burning down 50 houses.  It’s like someone coughed without covering their mouth and caused a tornado.

2.  Since I’m on the topic of murder, Drew Peterson is still kickin’ it, isn’t he?

3.  I walked into the kitchen today to find Little Filthy sitting and staring at the kitchen island.  As soon as he spotted me, he started to jump so his head would peek up over the counter.  I’d eaten part of a banana earlier and left the other half on the counter.  He’s banana crazy.

That just reminded me of something.  When the Seattle Peeps were here and they actually met Little Filthy, it occured to me how many times I had to say, “Oh…he [does this] when [this happens].”  Examples (all of which they witnessed, save maybe the banana thing):

a) He goes nuts when you open that cupboard.  (There is one particular kitchen cupboard that causes Little Filthy to lose his shit when it’s opened.)

b) He humps his toys the moment you try to take them.

c) He jumps (literally – he jumps up and down) if you move the rug that he’s standing on.  He pounces straight up and down, staring at the ground.  If I do this to him, I can walk into the room an hour later and he’s still jumping and staring.

d) He falls asleep when you file his nails.  (I file them every so often since he tends to jump on me and snag my pants otherwise.)  If you put him on his back with his legs sticking straight up, you could file his nails all day and he’ll sleep the entire time.

e) He loses his mind if he smells a banana.  He can smell you reaching for a banana.

4.  I cracked my patio door open last night so cool air would come in during the night. I woke up and it was 55 degrees in my place.  And I sort of loved it while I was in bed, anyway.  But it occurred to me that a woman might really find the whole practice odd.  I like chilly air when I sleep.

5.  That brings up another cold-weather practice: Wearing socks in bed.  Do you do it?

I don’t think I could do it.  It feels like going to bed with shoes on.  Just… odd.  And besides, don’t your feet get too warm?  It’s kind of gross, too, if you’ve been wearing the socks all day, right?  Hell, I think it’s sort of gross that people get into their beds after collecting dirt on their skin all day.  Those people only wash their sheets once a month and always have a rash.

It just occurred to me that I’m going to be single forever because I’m a weirdo and my dog is, too.

I’d been feeling unsettled lately because my place was in a bit of disarray.  Too many evenings away from home sometimes leave me feeling like this and I could tell my place needed a thorough scrub down.  I groused about it earlier via instant message to the Ballerina earlier today.  A few hours later, I reported in that I had just cleaned the floor and felt measurably better.  Here’s how the conversation went:

RandomEsq:  “Dude, floors are disgusting.”

The Ballerina: “scrubbing floors periodicially is so soothing.

…it’s like masturbation.”

*Blink*