Random Esquire

I was on the phone with QTMama earlier tonight.  QT relayed to me the large quantity that Em had eaten: A peanut butter sandwich, yogurt, two pickles and a carton of strawberries.  Here’s how this went:

QTMama (to Em):  You’re gonna poop all of that out!

Em:  I’m going to go poop right now!

RE:  YAY!! POOP!

QTMama (to Em):  (Re) doesn’t need to know you’re going  to go poop!

Em:  Take a dump!  Drop a deuce!

RE:  Ha ha ha!  Sing me a song when you’re done!

Em:  Okay!

Off Em goes to poop.

RE:  What song should I have her sing?

QTMama:  Ohhh, you could ask her to sing Whiskey in a Jar!  Or, you know, she’s really good at Drunken Sailor.

*Blink*

RE:  WHO ARE YOU RAISING OVER THERE?

Oh man.  QT’s raisin’ a sailor.

I wish Little Filthy had discretion.  Not a lot.  Just enough.  Enough to, say:

• tell the difference between which noises in the hall are worth barking at and which are not;
• realize that Attorney isn’t hurting Besos when they do that thing;
• understand that food on the counter is not okay to jump up and snatch but food on the floor is fair game;
• realize that humping toys is less acceptable in front of guests; and
• tell the difference between food and poo.

*sigh*

I was speaking with Beth today and, upon recalling that both she and Besos like the show House, I began to ask her if she, too, found certain men (whom Besos finds attractive) attractive.  Here, let me show you how this went:

RE:  What about Gordon Ramsey?

Beth: Gordon’s attractive in a what-an-asshole! way.

RE: See right there. That kills me – That there even is a “what an asshole” way of attractiveness.

Beth: Oh, I guess it’s like the whole bad-boy thing women are attracted to.

RE: This just stumps me. When I think of what I want in a chick, I never think I’d like a whore with spending problems.

Beth: As for sleeping with Gordon, I’d go on a date with him and see what he was like as a “real” person.

RE:  Wait wait wait.  Back up.  What do you mean “what he was like as a ‘real’ person”?  You want him to actually be nice?

Beth:  Well, I presume he has as TV persona that’s more extreme than his everyday persona. I’d want him to be interesting. And yes, kind.

RE:  So, the thing that first attracted you to him, you don’t actually find attractive?  Man, seriously, women love faux assholes.

Beth:  I think it’s his take-charge-ness that really attracts me.

RE:   Guys don’t want to date a girl who is a whore, take her home, and then find out she’s a prude.  They like a girl who is sweet and then are pleasantly surprised when she turns out to be a whore.  See how that works?  That makes sense to me.

If I may now direct your attention to my earlier post:  Do men like whores?

So, tell me… Do women like bad boys and if so, why? I have a theory on this but want to hear what you all have to say.

Have you seen this crap?  As you know, I sometimes take issue with television commercials.  There was the Dick Smucker ad.  Then the Folgers one about the kid who comes home from selling blood diamonds.  Now this one.

What the hell is that crap? How old is that woman that she still lives at home and her father cares when she comes home?   I mean, seriously, what is this crap?

Well, breathe easy, pops, cause you don’t have to worry.  You’ve granted permission to a man to take over the care of her wellbeing!  Like when a zoo in the U.S. agrees to adopt a panda from China.  Thank goodness she’s in good hands!

You misogynistic bastard.

*Click here for a far more eloquent and funny rant on this ad by my friend, Chic.)

1.  Apparently, I’d been doing something that Besos found less than charming.

I know.

I was just as surprised as you.

This came to light when her head exploded, spreading ash across much of the midwest thereby prompting the FAA to cease air travel for nearly 24 hours.

Perhaps you heard.

2.  I then informed Besos that it would be helpful if she told me these things when they occurred.  I said, “When a dog poops in the living room, you have to catch him.  You’re not supposed to just find it and then go get the dog and rub his face in it.  By then, he doesn’t understand. You have to catch him in the act.  I didn’t know I’d been pooping in the living room.”

I looked up from my meal to find her staring at me, chewing thoughtfully.  I said, “Bad analogy?”

She nodded.

3.  Besos and I then had a conversation about my alleged lack of sensitivity in one of my recent blog entries.  She was quite stern.  She said, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  She wasn’t familiar with the ..um, the joke about rolling a girl in flour.  After I explained it to her, I watched her sit there and try to look stern but fail because she was forcing herself not to laugh.  +1 Random.

4.  Besos then mentioned an incident that happened about a year ago while she was at her brother’s place and her parents were visiting.  It seems she was in the room next to her parents and *cough* heard some things.  She had previously described said things as ‘baby talk’.  However, she elaborated on the story through shudders of disgust.

I said, “Ohhhh.  I didn’t realize your dad was going for penetration.”

I looked up at her staring at me with an open mouth, teeth bared and eyes almost squeezed shut.

“Agghhhhhh!!!!”

And then I understood why she was upset.  Because she caught me pooping in the living room and let me know it was wrong.

See, I’m really not that complicated.

“Imagine my relief.”

You may recall my dry use of this phrase (which caused Grandma Ho to go autistic) when I was reassured by some hayseed that she thought it was perfectly okay for me to be in a mixed race relationship.  It was as if she was bestowing her blessing upon me and Besos.

And thank you to Instigator for using the word ‘hayseed’ this week which I have now incorporated into my speech patterns accordingly.

“Don’t drop your blob.”

Now, by this, I mean, essentially, “Don’t have a cow.“  The thing is, I can’t find the use of that phrase anywhere except on my blog and so I’m wondering if I somehow made this up.

“Momofuku.”

I mean, come on.  You don’t get to name a restaurant Momofuku and not have people snatch it up and use it in place of other similar sounding words.

“For the birds.”

Lousy Schmuck used this phrase the other day and we discovered that it comes from the longer saying “shit for the birds” referring to birds picking through horse plop for apple seeds and whatnot.

“This is not my sandwich.”

What sayings do you find yourself repeating?

I noticed a woman with very thin lips while on the train.  I briefly wondered if her lipstick lasted a really long time since she has such little lip surface area to cover.  Then I wondered why she bothered drawing attention to them with lipstick at all.

Then, as she pursed her lips together and they all-together disappeared, the *cough* rather rude analogy of rolling a girl in flour came to mind and I wondered if someone would have to dunk her head into some flour in order to know where to kiss her.

Which made me think of how I once sincerely expressed that there was nothing more sad than a fat girl getting her nails done.  Which, I think, I later revised to say that shoe shopping might be worse.  And that made me wonder why some larger women wear such tiny wrist watches that seem to pinch off their circulation?

This made me recall a conversation I had with Instigator in which I called Anjelica Huston a…handsome woman.  This is my way of saying that she is manly.  I tried to name other handsome women but only Bea Arthur came to mind – the original handsome woman.

And then I wondered if calling a woman handsome was basically being politely rude.  Making something bad seem okay.  Mutton dressed as lamb, if you will.  Polishing a turd. Lipstick on a pig.

And then I realized I’d come full circle, so to speak.

1.  There is a new show on TV called Minute to Win It.  This was formerly known as Fun Party Games For Your 12 Year Old.  However, NBC decided to ruin it by A) having adults play it, B) getting Guy Fieri to host it, C) putting it on television and D) not requiring the contestants to be nude.

A) Adults doing these stupid things is sad.  Children doing it is funny and awesome.

B)  Guy Fieri is… wow, where do I begin?  Look, there’s no other way to put this.  Guy Fieri is a douchebag. In fact, if you go to Google and type in “Guy Fieri is” the first suggested search is “Guy Fieri is a douchebag.”  I wonder if he hangs out with his Google-Douchebag-Twin Bobby Flay.

C)  This is the kind of thing you put on YouTube, not television.

D)  I think this would help in two ways.  First, it would just make it more horribly entertaining.  And I mean entertaining in a way that is horrible.  Second, then some of these contestants might know shame.  See how that works?

2.  This morning on the Today show, Matt Lauer interviewed a woman whose brother, a miner with 30 years experience, was believed to be either dead or trapped in the mine.  After some questions, Matt thanked her for being on and she returned the thanks and said she wanted to do it so that viewers would pray “specifically” for her brother.

*Blink*

Whah?  Like, not for the other miners that might be trapped underground?  Dude, RUDE.  I forgot about it until this afternoon with Instigator asked if I’d seen the show…and heard the woman ask for people to pray for her brother specifically.  I laughed.  Of course we both noticed this.

3.  For a while, I watched Hoarders and Intervention.  Then I realized that every episode of Hoarders is exactly the same.  When shit say “Same shit, different Day” – well, that can be said about Hoarders, only change it to “Same shit, different house.”  I became cynical enough about Intervention that I began to cheer when the addicted person would basically say, “Screw off, I don’t want to get clean” and would refuse treatment.   The DVR caught an episode from Monday which I decided to watch.  It was about a boxer – formerly a really good boxer – who was addicted to crack.  One of the people at his intervention was a guy he used to train.  This dude took his intervention speech and wrote a poem.  A poem, people.  Like, “Please get clean, don’t be mean, get off crack, don’t be whack.”  Okay, so, maybe not that bad.

Except really?  Completely that bad.

1.  I decided on a late night shower this evening.  I undressed and was going to get into the shower when I decided to lower the thermostat.  I walked out into the living room / kitchen naked and realized that the dishwasher had just finished the wash cycle.   I decided to open it instead of having it go through the dry cycle.  I flipped the latch, opened it a bit…

and damned if I didn’t almost steam my genitals.

2.  On the train this morning, I observed a young man whose natural expression was… slack jawed.  His lips were like two ships that pass in the night but never meet.  I don’t get it.  But I sat there and thought of all the other jacked up analogies I could make about his teeth.  Like, his upper lip was a window shade that wouldn’t pull down.  Or his upper lip was like a belly shirt that exposed too much teeth.  Dumb shit like that.

3.  I asked my sister her thoughts on towel sharing and informed her that some people wash their towels after every use.  Her response was, “Those people never went to college.”

4.  Editor and I had a beer outdoors on Friday night.  In the vein of being keenly observant, there was a woman at the next table and I could not help but notice her.  This is because her chin seemingly never met a jaw of any type but simply bled into her neck.  With her hair pulled back, she was remarkably turtle-like.  I suppose some people just inevitably get compared to animals.  I think, perhaps, the turtle is not so much a flattering comparison.

5.  My niece and nephew are big Little Filthy fans.  When they saw him on Sunday, I explained that he had received a shot in the leg and it had made his leg sore.   Remember when my niece pointed to Little Filthy’s exit door and asked, “What’s that hole?”   Well, this time, my nephew pointed to it and said, “is that shot? boo boo!”  Yeah.  He thinks Little Filthy’s hole is where he got his shot.  I don’t bother explaining things but cautioned against touching anything.

6.  I got my hair cut last week at a new place.  This means that I did not receive the kind ministrations of The Bumper.  The Bumper is the pretty young woman who would wash my hair prior to my cut and she would…*ahem* …bump me.  Honestly, people, it’s hard not to grin just typing that.  Anyway – no Bumper so therefore, no bumps.  Because, in case you didn’t know, it’s rude to dive for a bump.  Now you know. It’s one to grow on.

7.  When Little Filthy was at the vet last week, his anal glands were expressed.  The vet said: “they were quite full.”  This somehow makes me feel negligent.  I decided to see if I could learn how to do this so perhaps I could take care of this little issue when giving Little Filthy a bath.  Naturally, I turned to Youtube.

After a few videos, I decided that there are some things best left to the vet…  left to the vet and some dark room in the back where no one talks about what’s going on or what they’ve seen.

1.  When I was around age 3 or so, my parents had a party.  Apparently, I got out of bed, found an half open can of beer and finished it.  They found me sleeping in a corner.  Oh well.

2.  Not sure how old I was – maybe 6 – when I took an apple out of the fridge and took a bite and decided right then that I hated Red Delicious apples.  That is an ironic name.  While red, they are *not* delicious.  I didn’t want to finish it but I was taught not to waste food.  So, I couldn’t just toss it on to the top of the trash.

So I flushed it down the toilet.

Apparently, I decided that perhaps I’d just gotten a particularly bad apple.  So I got another.

It wasn’t any better.

So I flushed that one down the toilet, as well.

The next thing I really recall was my father shoving a snaking tool down into the toilet and scowling at both my sister and me as he tried to unclog the toilet, asking, “Did you do this??”  I denied it earnestly.  I’m not really sure what he thought when two apples with a small bite out of each bobbed up to the surface.  Goddamn small pipes.

3.  For years, as children, my sister and I used to sing a song together.  We sang “You’ve Got A Friend.”  My sister was in town this past weekend and we spent the day together on Monday.  Just the two of us.

As similar as we are, we’ve never been competitive.  As different as we are, we genuinely like each other.  I really couldn’t ask for a better friend.