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Jett Superior laid this on you on || August 29, 2002 || 11:27 pm

Maxim enters dining room, where Jett is busy stowing (in extremely well-organized fashion) all manner of things into canvas shopping-type bags and placing them neatly alongside two suitcases, one small and one medium. He has very recently awakened on the couch, where he passed clean out after a wretchedly-hectic day in the wage-slave trenches.
MAXIM: There is no way that all of this nonsense will fit.
Jett sighs, having both witnessed and participated in this dance before.
JETT: Yes, darling, it will.
Maxim, as a matter of course, feels that it is his responsibility to eye her dubiously.
MAXIM: I don’t think so.
JETT: That’s why you are the beauty and I am the brains of this outfit. Besides, I am the master packer, yo.
MAXIM: Look, it’s not all gonna fit and I am not breaking a sweat at six in the morning to try and make it. Can’t we just do something about all this? *generalized sweeping motion with arm*
JETT: The way I see it, you can sell a kid or you can get me a bigger vehicle.
JETT: Don’t you start this whole ‘Crabby Vacation Daddy’ bullshit with me. I am busy, I am tired, and there’s still a load of shorts in the dryer and groceries to pack. I’m icky-hot and need a shower. What I DON’T need is shit. Go to bed, crabass, and have your keys and defensive driving skills laid out for quick departure in the morning. The kids need every juice box and sand pail that I am squeezing in, okay?
Maxim smiles, kisses her forehead and shuffles off to bed.

Yes, darlings, I am in the midst of a vacation-preparation maelstrom. As always, I lone it. People have so little appreciation for The Mom…they just show up and –as if by magic– have an unencumbered good time. It occurs not just in this household, but in countless households across the nation. I’m sure it has happened since the dawn of man: Mother cavewoman packed all of the spare rocks and gathered up hair-bones and made sure everyone had pelts and carcasses to spare while the rest of the cavefamily counted down the minutes until they left for the dinosaur mating ground or wherever the fuck it was that cavefolks wandered to in search of a good ole time at great detriment to the tenuously-held family budget.

Ahhhh, the days long ago, when I would throw some sheer-type things held together with strings, a bottle of TaKillYa, a jar of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter, a Walkman, a couple books and notebooks and pens in a backpack and hit the white sands blessedly unencumbered and unfettered….

So, all of the Superior ingrates family lies sleeping peacefully while I gather the props for the Time To Be Had this week. I owe God for being the “advance team”, as it were….for getting on in there and building the backdrop, laying the scenery and sets so that I don’t have to worry about that, too. *Looks heavenward* Thanks, Big Guy. I owe ya. You make a meaner Gulf of Mexico than I ever could. Those sunsets are to die for! And those gently-shimmying waves at daybreak, wow. Leave it to the Master, I say.

While I am away, please try not to rumple things overmuch. You can have all the parties you want, just take your empties with you, vacuum up a bit and –I will NOT repeat this– stay away from my grandmother’s bone china, for fucksakes.

Here, I hired clowns to entertain you. Their show is of the mostly G-rated variety, but they are hella, HELLA funny. Enjoy!

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3 worked it out »

  1. waistdog 8.30.2002

    Those kids look oddly familiar.

    But I won’t think about THAT!

    Have a good time.

     
  2. The Fancy Llama 9.4.2002

    COME BACK DEAR JETT!! COME BACK!! =(

    “C3-PO, C3-PO!! Where could he BE?

     
  3. The Fancy Llama 9.4.2002

    (end quote)

     

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