A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || September 29, 2002 || 2:35 pm

Saturday Nights On The Cusp Of Fall are perfect for meeting Someone Who Is Not Originally From Here Just Like You and sharing a few pints. Especially if the Someone has wonderful green eyes (always your favorite) that always seem to be smiling and you both end up sloshing your pints around while singing honest-for-true Irish folksongs in the best brogue imaginable because you both had drunken Irish grandaddies to learn them from. Life is funny sometimes. April Love and I were just discussing the Irish accent yesterday afternoon as she is in a panic over a part she landed: “My Irish sucks, Beth….it always mutates into cheeky British.” I told her to watch ‘Angela’s Ashes‘ over and over and over.

While I’m thinking about it, here is the key to a good Irish accent: Think absolute, abject misery…you know, drowning in it. Then give that misery a good glaze of gleeful, “Fook bayin’ oonhappay!” then marinate lovingly in copious amounts of red lager and there ya hov et. Trill them arrrrs, baybee. Never forget that.

I woke this morning with my body well-rested and screaming, “WAAAATERRRRR!” Thirty-two ounces of iced-down aytch-two-ohhh later I felt centered again and watched ‘Me, Myself and Irene‘ (what a waste of celluloid) while folding clunky sweatshirts and dainty underthings. At one pee emm I recalled that I’d not eaten a thing in sixteen hours, so I slid into a t-shirt dress and my favorite brown thong sandals to go to the grocery. I left on the mussed hair because I was uninterested in taming it and besides, it’s too humid for hope anyway. The humidity brings crooks and twists in my hair that are normally easily-camouflaged but hopelessly stubborn when presented with hurricane-leftovers weather.

Stares from males at the store were indecipherable as to whether I’d made a bad hair decision…were more of them than usual ogling because I looked like a hellcat or because I looked hellish? Hard to say. Even harder to give a fuck.

April Love loaned ‘Sixteen Candles‘ to me and I gave her a slice out of my Edwards Key Lime Pie two-pack. What am I gonna do, eat them both?

Contemplating a story with an antagonist by the name of ‘Tangle Eye’….but it’s a very sad story about being eaten alive from the inside and best left to another day. Today is a good day in my world. You can join me if you’d like. I like to share my riches.

Speaking of sharing riches, I forgot to remind you fuckers lovely critters that TACKY PACKtm submissions were closing, so they shall remain open until the first of October. Of COURSE, with Halloween being right around the corner, this month’s PACK will have a Halloween-y (Halloweenie?) theme. Tell me something scary, and if you’re selected as the winner, I shall send you spookified boodle. Ciao for now!

3 worked it out »

  1. Johnny T 9.29.2002

    I once thought of selling hotdogs on halloween and calling them Halooweenies. Actually, this was a friend’s idea that I stole and like to tote as mine while always betraying myself and giving the nameless lad credit in the end. regardless, isn’t it a good idea?

  2. waistdog 9.29.2002

    Being of the half Irish, half English persuasion…..I tend to want to drink bunches of pints, and then spend the evening yelling that I have bad teeth, and trying to light rags that I’ve shoved into my beer bottles, so I can throw them at myself.

  3. Gil 9.29.2002

    Lady Jett,

    So good to read your blog, and as always, I love what I read. Good move on the H2O… now go have some nice iced tea at Luby’s with a LuAnn platter, always a fantastic cure-all for the hangover.


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