Random Esquire

I was on gchat and I asked Editor and NambyPamby the same question:

“Would you fuck Jennifer Lopez?“

Let’s see how this goes.

EDITOR

RE: Would you fuck Jennifer Lopez?

Editor: J-Lo? hmmm, i mean, right NOW?  yes, because, like, I wouldn’t turn it down. But I need more. What’s the context here?

RE: WHAT THE FUCK.

Editor: Dude.

RE: I MEAN SERIOUSLY?

Editor: j-lo. well. Give me the context. You mean as opposed to NOT fucking J-LO if I had the chance?

RE: YOU IS NAKED IN A ROOM. WITH JLO.

Editor: she’s not disease riddled, right?

RE: AND SHE WANT TO FUCK. THERE’S YOUR CONTEXT.

Editor: then yes. J-Lo circa 1998. J-Lo circa 2011 is old and has kids. and has been fucking what’s his name. her husband. marc antony.

RE: I’m fucking dying laughing.

Editor: Like…Pre-Affleck J-Lo? Totes.

RE: Lemme get this straight. You might turn down J-Lo cause some other ugly dick been in her?

Editor: fine. yes. i’d bang j-lo.

THE NAMBY PAMBY

RE: Would you fuck Jennifer Lopez?

NP: Probably? I mean, there are a lot of factors to consider. like, would that be like sticking certain parts of my body into a garbage disposal/blender

RE: WTF.

NP: she is attractive. and i am presently operating under the “beggars cannot be choosers” mantra at the moment. so. THERE.

RE: JESUS.

NP: WILL SHE LOVE ME BACK. CAN I BE THE SMALL SPOON

RE: I can’t even look at you, man. Are you fucking J-Lo or are you being a mangina? *STARE*

NP: OH THE DEATH ST…AHHHHH  AHHHH NOOOOOOOOO!

RE: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Like, seriously, she’s in a room naked. wants you.  YOU WOULD TURN HER DOWN?

NP: Clearly this will never happen. but probably not.

RE: You are such an asshole. I’m laughing so hard. LISTEN, ASSHOLE. I am here to TELL YOU that if you were in a room with your boxers down  and JLO grabbed hold, YOU WOULD NOT TURN IT DOWN. I mean, it could be fucking JOE from FACTS OF LIFE and you might be okay with that shit. SO LET ME ASK YOU ONCE AGAIN, BROTHER. WOULD YOU FUCK JLO?

NP: this is Jenny from the Block, right?

RE: YES.

NP: I mean, she’s married.

RE: I’m going to slug you. Like, straight up fucking slug you. YES OR NO.

NP: yeah, probably.

LEGALLY FABULOUS

So, then I decided to share this conversation with Legally Fabulous.

RE: Get a load of this shit. I’m sending you two conversations.

<Pause while Legally Fabulous reads the conversation>

LF: god. they’re such retards.

RE: Right? listen up, white boy, you’d let her WRECK YOU. but for some reason, it cracks me the fuck up that those two idiots were like: “well, tell me more.” I mean, REALLY? Do you need more?

LF: lol. right. like if you asked me “would you fuck Justin Timberlake?” “yes.” the end. THERE ARE NO FACTORS TO CONSIDER.

RE: THANK YOU.

CONCLUSION

Those two assholes would fuck J-L0.

I’d fuck J-Lo.

Legally Fab would fuck Justin Timberlake.

Any questions?

1.  This is me watching basketball tonight:

“Who is playing?”

“Butler? Seriously? they named a school after a manservant? Well, I can’t say that that makes any sense to me at all. Who are they playing?”

“The Huskies? Isn’t that, like, a clothing line or size for chubby boys? So it’s the servants versus the chubby kids?”

“I gotta go with the servants. The huskies will probably tire by half time or take a break for cookies and juice.”

2. My uncle’s e-mail was hijacked and the entire family received an e-mail from ‘him’ stating that he was stuck in another country and would we mind sending him some money?

My uncle realized what happened and sent a follow up e-mail that said, “Ignore that last e-mail from the hacker. If you want to send money, send it to <his real address.>”

My cousin replied, “The joke is on the hacker. He thought we would send money if you were stuck in another country.”

Welcome to the family.

3.  As my condo buying deal is damn near finalized, I thought it was time for me to break the news to the boy. He’s grown up here and has never lived someplace else.  We sat down at dinner and I told him I had news for him. I then explained that we’d be walking in a new neighborhood, sleeping in a new room, terrorizing a whole new park full of dogs. And then I showed him a picture of the new place.

And you know what? He just couldn’t care less.

What a past few weeks filled with both condolences and congratulations.

For my part, I’ve been riding a bit of a roller coaster, as well.  Here’s how shit went down.

On Monday, I made an offer on a condo. The counter-offer made it clear that the sellers were still 1) in denial about the housing market and 2) my mortal enemies. After gnashing my teeth, I responded with a “take it or leave it” counter and on Friday – they took it.

Much rejoicing commenced.

Until the next Monday.  When I got the condo association meeting minutes and read about 3 units in the building in foreclosure. And one of them? Had been completely stripped clean. See, sometimes, when a person is ticked about being kicked out of their home by a bank (deserved or otherwise), they decide to take everything that isn’t nailed down. Kitchen sink, kitchen counter, bathroom sinks, toilets, EVERYTHING.

This displeased me.  Especially since I had the home inspection done and the unit I wanted was impeccable and perfect and lovely.

Also, the condo association president? Yeah, he can’t afford his home now, either.

What’s this mean? It means that all these units would significantly drive down the price of my unit.

I ain’t okay wit dat.

So on Friday – yesterday – I told my lawyer, “Burn it.” and I walked away.

It was like asking the prettiest girl in the world to marry you and she says YES! And then you find out her entire rotten deadbeat moocher family is going to move in as well. Oh, and they will eat your food and not make the bed and hey, can you spare $50 to float them just to next week?

Fuck that.

BAH.

1.  Dude. I’m back. Brace yourselves.

2.  I have been in a bit of a hole for two reasons. First, work had me swamped. Second? I’m looking at condos to buy.

Let me ‘splain sumpin about home buying.

I’m against it.

Okay, I’m not. It’s just… it generally sounds a little bit like a pain in the ass.  Which is nuts. And I got over it. I mean, not right away – but pretty quickly when I walked into a place I really liked. When I saw the kick ass wine fridge built into the granite topped kitchen counter. And the huge steam shower. And the two jacuzzi tubs. And the Brazilian cherry wood floors. Yeah. All that helped.

3.  Boss came to visit Little Filthy. He promptly buried himself in her bosom. I mean, see, this isn’t just me, folks – it’s like an animal response.

4.  The Italian got married in Las Vegas last weekend. He’s been trying to sell him home and buy a new one for the two of them.  He called me after he got back home and said:

“I just got hom from Vegas, dropped off my wife and now I’m going home.”

Then he burst out laughing and said, “Did you hear me? I dropped off my wife and now I’m going home! I have figured out LIFE and happiness!”

Well, some things can’t be argued with.

5.  Besos and Boss met each other yesterday. That was interesting.

I’ve been thinking about forgiveness. In many contexts. But today I thought of my father and how whenever my sister or I accomplished something, he had a hard time recognizing it without talking about his own accomplishments.  If we got all As, he pointed out that he got all As for all four years in high school. If we won a competition, he pointed out competitions he’d won. And whenever he does accomplish something, he is a little boastful.

And it’s okay.

Because I understand now with a few years under my belt. My father, the second oldest of eleven children, never received the attention and recognition he wanted or needed for his accomplishments. There were always younger ones who needed more pressing attention.

My father loves music. I remember, when I was much younger, watching him listen to Colm Wilkinson sing Bring Him Home from Les Miserables. He tried to sing along and told me, sadly, that he used to have a good voice.  His eyes welled up and he told me that when he was a child, he had a very painful ear infection. His parents did not take him to the doctor and kept telling him to tough it out.  He said the pain was excruciating. Then, one night, the pressure in his ear built up and he heard a pop and a whoosh of pain that left his pillow bloody.  His eardrum had ruptured.

I could see that he was angry still at his parents for not taking him to the doctor. Not even paying enough attention to the physical pain he felt. Despite how much he loves them and respects them, there is still that pain.  And all that pain from childhood has left a thin, slightly tinted figurative scar over his eyes and heart that colors what he sees and feels.

I thought about that today. And how one of my goals is to learn to not only see someone’s scars but the pain it represents and how it colors their life.

It is a lesson I regret I may have learned too late.

When I was visiting my parents recently, they pulled out a file of drawings my sister and I did as children. You may be familiar with some of our other differences.

Now, let me explain what you’re about to see… This was a workbook of sorts that we each colored while in kindergarten about ourselves, our lives and our family. With that, let’s get started.

PAGE 1:  THIS IS MY HAND

We were each supposed to draw a picture of our hand. Here is my sister’s hand, complete with manicured nails and a ring.

Let’s see my hand:

Seems okay so far, right?

PAGE 2: THIS IS MY FOOT

Sister’s foot – complete with toes and instep. Also, possibly some injuries.

My foot – notice that I did not even bother to take off my shoe.

PAGE 3: THIS IS MY HAIR

Sister’s hair: She took time to give herself a part.

My hair: I took time to give myself blue eyes.

Note the obvious family resemblance.

PAGE 4: THIS IS MY HOUSE

My sister lives in a significantly more beautiful home than I do. Her home has a garage, driveway, door, window, chimney, tree and tulips.

My house is yellow. Bonus:  roof.

PAGE 5: THIS IS MY BED

Sister’s bed has a headboard, footboard, pillows, and ruffles. Also, a person added for size scale.

Meanwhile, I apparently thought the square in which we were to depict our bed was the actual bed. Also, I couldn’t be bothered to pick up another color crayon so my bed matches my house.

PAGE 6: THIS IS MY FAMILY

My sister has taken the time to give my father glasses and a tie. Also, note the accurate representation that my mother’s hair is darker than my father’s.

I don’t even know what to say about my picture.

PAGE 7: THIS IS ME. I AM WONDERFUL!

(seriously, that’s what it says at the top of the page):

Sister: Ahh, the colors!

Me: I included the full page, for maximum effect. WTF.

PAGE 8: THIS IS MY FAVORITE TOY

My sister enjoys her yo yo!

This is my favorite toy.

Can’t tell what it is? Let me help.

Clearly, it’s a blender, people.

There you have it. Sister vs. Random: Kindergarten Style

1.  Sunday, the 9th,  is my birthday. My mother wants me to come home for lunch.

Mom: “What would you like me to make you for lunch?”

RE: “I want XX!”

Mom: “No, I’ll make you YY.”

RE: *blink*

2.  Besos: “Do you sleep on my side of the bed when I’m not there?”

RE:  ”No, I sleep in the middle of the bed… just like when you are here.” *dashing grin*

Besos: “Sounds about right.”

3.  I’m officially looking to buy my first place. This declaration is akin to saying “PLEASE GIVE ME ALL KINDS OF UNSOLICITED ADVICE.”

4.  Some guy (“Jimmy”) reviewed an air purifier and noted that it can detect his farts. Seriously.

5.  Besos has had a cough. She got a prescription for cough medicine and just tried it. She pulled such a face and went on about it that – naturally – I decided I wanted to taste it.

That’s an interesting reaction, isn’t it? I suppose it’s somewhat like smelling week-past-due milk or something, yanking your face away from the opening and then shoving it over to someone and saying, “Oh, God, this smells so bad….Smell it.” Except here, someone didn’t have to invite me to partake in the unpleasantness. Here, I witnessed it and immediately volunteered.

Let this be a testament to my idiocy.

Anyway, I poured a splash of this cough syrup into a spoon and shoved it in my mouth.

Easily the worst, most bitter cough medicine I’ve ever had.

I mean, at least… I think it was.

So, just to be sure, I tried it again.

What’s wrong with me??

1.  My life would be complicated if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener.  Here is how I came to that conclusion.

I was eating a corndog from Trader Joe’s. Turns out it is actually made from soy but it occurred to me that it had been so long since I’d eaten an actual hot dog that I don’t even really remember what the hell they taste like.  This made me think of hot dogs at the ball park. Then I thought of Ball Park Franks.  Then I thought of Oscar Mayer and that weiner song:

“Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener; that is what I’d truly like to be. Cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener, everyone would be in love with me.”

And I thought about it… can you imagine what it would be like if everyone was in love with you? What a sordid, dirty mess.

That’s when I decided that my life would be complicated if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener.

2.  As I walked through a parking lot today, I saw an orange on the ground. My first thought was that I wanted to throw it. It was about the size of a baseball and I wondered if I could throw it all the way across the parking lot. This made me imagine playing catch in a parking lot and I wondered if someone would say that was stupid because there could be a wild throw that ended up with a baseball busting through a car window. But that didn’t seem as likely with an orange. Unless, of course, it was the middle of winter and the orange was frozen solid.

I left the orange alone.

3.  Little Filthy had some bumps on the back of his neck, on the skin – flaky bumps. When I tried to look at them, he would jump if I touched them. So he went to the vet today. He got a full check-up, routine shots, etc. They did a fungal and bacterial check on the bumps… both negative. But he got an antibacterial shot and some shampoo and if it isn’t better in a week, he goes back for a skin biopsy. He got home exhausted after the day at the vet and I gave him some wet food. This pleased him. Then I gave him a bath.  This displeased him. Then when I made him sit on a chair and covered him with some pink blankets?  Then he was downright pissed.

I asked Besos tonight if she wanted a cookie. She said yes and opened her mouth. I grinned and grabbed a cookie and put it in her mouth.  While I did so, I said reverently:  ”The body of Christ.”

I mean, I know it’s not.  Sometimes, these things just strike me as funny and I am not good at resisting the urge to amuse myself.  Why should I? Why should everyone else be able to enjoy my humor but me?  The thing is, I’m sort of fun to have around!

Yes. I realize I sound like an idiot. It’s a problem.

Anyway, back to the story. I said, “The body of Christ.” as I placed the cookie on her tongue.

Her eyes got big and she reached out and swatted me.  This is because Besos is good and would never say such things.

I then went to open my beer and reached into a drawer for the opener. I have a kick ass vegetable peeler which saw fit, at that moment, to slice my thumb open.  I looked down at my bloody thumb.

*sigh*

Dammit, OKAY, I get it, Jesus. It’s a cookie. Not the body of Christ.

This just means that should the situation arise again, I will now say: “The body of Christ…but not really.”

Which, quite frankly, is probably good advice for anyone.

1. I have the song “You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille” in my head. Except, I keep saying, “You picked a fine time to leave me, loose wheel” because of some goofy joke I heard as a child.

2. I’m going to write a book called “You’re so vain, you probably think my Facebook status is about you.” Maybe. Or maybe I will call it “You’re so vain, you probably think this FAP FAP FAP is about you.”

3. I cleaned behind my fridge for the first time in years. I found something that belonged to Boss – it was candy. It somehow made me remember one time when I had done something that had upset her. I drove 200 miles and stood outside her place, which I think was on the 7th floor, called her and told her to look out the window where I was holding a huge posterboard sign that said, “I’m sorry.”

4. Christmas is almost here. Someone is excited.