Random Esquire

1.  Hit the Jersey Shore yesterday.  I wish there was some way I could have snapped a picture of a couple sitting on the beach.  Both in lawn chairs, the woman was all of 90 pounds and 90 years old with a vibrant red head of wig perched atop her noggin and skin the color of an old penny.  Her skinny limbs stuck out of her body like lollipop sticks.  Not to be outdone was her husband whose prosthetic leg was removed and perched just below his knee while his shortened limb was crossed over his other leg.  Basically, he had crossed his legs but left the prosthesis in place so it looked like they weren’t crossed until you paused and realized that his thigh was in fact crossed toward his other leg.   They made an interesting picture – not in a comical way – but more in the way that you wanted to know their story.  Naturally, I instantly nicknamed them Snookie and the Situation.

2.  Today, while my nephew napped, I looked at my niece and said, “What would you like to do?”

She responded ,”MAKE CUPCAKES.”

So we made cupcakes.

3.  Second only after cupcakes in enjoyment factor was holding my niece and nephew upside down by their ankles while they laughed hysterically.  I’m not sure my sister knows about that, though.

They didn’t barf or anything.

4.  My sister was charmed by the Seattle group.  She said that they seemed like people “who love experiences.”  And I agree.

5.  While at dinner tonight, my sister said to her son, “You’re going to school next week; did you know that? You’re going to go to school.”   And he said very simply, in his high pitched, tiny boy voice:

“Nooope.”

1.  Why do I always end up dating teachers?

Because I have childhood fantasies, people. That’s why.

2.  I am leaving for NYC on Saturday morning. Work threatens to explode while I am gone.  This displeases me.

3.  Instigator’s daughter calmly explained the mechanics of sex to a peer.  This cracks me up.

4.  Little Filthy will be staying with my parents while I am out of town.  I suspect he will celebrate by baking a potato on my mother’s rug, as is his habit.  She will be delighted, no doubt.

5.  I will be meeting up with the Seattle Crew while in NYC.  They will all meet my sister.  This should be interesting!

Nevermind what got me to this video…

but once I watched it, I imagined it was the kind of video Liz Lemon would make while home alone on a Saturday night. I can’t stop laughing at it!

Today… I made change for a prostitute.

I walked into a gas station and a certain lady of the evening was at the counter, trying to buy… cigars.

I know.

The irony.

She turned to me and said, “Baby, you got change for a fifty?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out two twenties and two fives.

She handed me a fifty.  I shoved it in my pocket.

She said, “Thank you so much, baby. You sweet.”

Then she turned and bought some Swisher Sweets, peeled one open and licked it.  Right there in the gas station while the attendant and I stood awkwardly watching.

I take entertainment where I can get it.

1. … stared at a banana, unwilling to throw it out. I have 9 bananas here. But I do not want to throw out that one in particular.

2. … lay on floor and let Little Filthy lick my face to his content.

3. … did not shower.

4. … had regrets.

5. … told a stranger what was bothering me.

(more…)

Rubbermoon sent a gift for Little Filthy. He loves it!

On Monday night, I went out to eat.  I returned home and promptly snapped my key off in the lock to my front door.  I proceeded to try to tug out the snub of key, thereby rattling the doorknob around.  This, of course, informed Little Filthy that I was home.  However, it also appeared to inform him that while I was home, I was completely uninterested in seeing him or seeing to the needs of his bowels.  As I wiggled the key, I heard long, wretched cries from the other side of the door.  Actually, as I write this, it threatens to be unbelievably long.  Let me just summarize:

Locksmith comes.  Proceeds to stick it to me.  Drills out the lock. Wants to install another lock.  I decline his offer to install a $20 lock for $120.  Fuck that.  I’ll just kill anyone who walks through the bloody door.

Next day, I wake up to find cherry stems spread around living room.  Stupidly, I left cherry pits on the coffee table.  Little Filthy attempts to look innocent while I have a Come-To-Jesus-Moment.

Cherry pits = Toxic.

Cherry pits = cyanide.

Website searching, friend asking, dog eyeballing.

Emergency Vet call.

Hydrogen peroxide goes down Little Filthy’s throat, to his complete surprise, disgust, and amazement.

Little Filthy stares.  I reach under him and wiggle his belly.

Vomit.

Cherry pits.

Little Filthy STARE.

Sorry, Little Filthy.