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Archive for May, 2006

Forget having teenagers; go on and stab yourself in the fucking heart.

Piper has a website…more specifically, a blog; from her comments area earlier:

“but you are right, we dont talk. and i dunno if we should start, right now i dont feel comfortable with the idea; every time i think of dominos, or tongue rings, or barns i think of you.”

I liked that fucking kid immensely. He has heart. I hope she’s not very, very sorry somewhere down the line.

How do you flap your arms frantically and wave your kids off the tracks? More importantly, how come you can’t? What’s the overriding reason there?

She was born to another mother, but she is entirely mine. All mine, as a matter of fact. Fuck, you people. Just fuck. This mother shit is hard, when push absolutely comes to shove.

|| May 28, 2006 || 2:10 am || Comments (0) ||

‘Cos I am a GIVER, damnit!

So I am going through all of these books and videos and things; I’m getting rid of lots of stuff. Two things that I am disposing of, well….let’s just say I don’t think the Salvation Army set on this mountain will fully appreciate them in the way they were intended to be appreciated.

So then, if any of you wants ‘Eazy E: The Videos’ and/or a Suicide Machines video compilation (both on the mighty VHS!), then drop me a line. Come to think of it, if any of you people wants a list of the other books and movies I’m getting rid of, let me know. Between me and media mail, you could have some stuff nearly free.


All the necessary tools. Drat. Foiled again!

So here I am, knee-deep in furthering our home renovations. Every four or five weeks we tend toward making a valiant push and getting one more major (or a sweeping series of minors) task out of the way. Today I am hell-bent on painting the family room, culling the bookshelves of needless extras, and just generally putting the sonofabitch together once and for all. My vinyl collection has been in boxes for nigh on two years now (GASP!), the spankingly awesome striped vintage drapes I bought off eBay are going unused, the lucite lamps are not resting in an organized fashion on matching deco end tables and the clutter, my merciful stars, the clutterrrrr! I can no longer handle this madness like a reasonable person.

I have run upon a problem, a stumbling block if you will, and it is thus: I’ve finished all of the walls (hot damn, we love freshly-painted beadboard, don’t we, tender Muffinasses?) and about a third of the trim, which includes built-in cabinetry and bookshelves along with your standard four-inch crown, six-inch baseboards, door facings and windows. Humming along nicely. However, –and a big ‘however’ it is, all you folk– I’ve only one glass of wine left. I’m in all kinds of condition to paint, but no kind of condition to drive. If I lived in a REAL place, or there weren’t so fucking many babdistses around these parts, I could have some snooker delivered: “SEND ME WHATEVER YOU HAVE THAT RINGS IN AROUND TWENTY BUCKS A BOTTLE, TATER.” Alas, it is not so.

This will never do.

|| May 23, 2006 || 1:35 pm || Comments (6) ||


All you ever needed to know about tonsilloliths. You are SO VERY welcome.

I have no fucking idea how I find these things, I just do.

Because around these parts, we honor the fallen and the limping.

Dear Irritable Chinese Guy,

I sure am sorry that your ticker betrayed you the other day when you went in for a simple battery of tests. Generally Smarmy Waitress told me that you’d up and had a heart attack not just right before, but during surgery, as well. Silly man, the midst of an emergency quadruple bypass is no time for theatrics!

You are the first recurring character on my website to get really, really sick. I hope that you’re also the first recurring character on my website to get really, really better. You work too damn hard. At first it irked some of us regulars that you closed on Mondays after all of those seven-days-a-week years; we then realized that we are selfish bastards and got over it. I’ve taken a small poll, and the selfish bastards all agree: You should close one more day per week and let someone else run the place on a third. I’m sure the idea of this appalls you, you dear(ish) man, but a few glasses of red wine should quell your uneasy spirit. Hell, I’ll even bring some over and drink it with you.

What kind of box do you like yourn from?

Fondest regards,

Jett “Sending Good Wishes Aplenty” Superior

pee ess…I didn’t realize until I’d already dropped it in the mail that when I signed the card ‘The Szechuan Vegetable Girl’, it sounded as if I’m composed of Szechuan vegetables. Haha, I bet you’ll be loving that shit. I’m sure you will mock me over it, but I’ve already decided to start calling you ‘Stitch’ to your face, you crazyman. PEACE!


(here’s some truths for fans of sech thangs)

Lord, I know I am shameful to thee,

and anyway, I am tired of being good.

I drink wine from a thirty-three dollar

glass, and speak twenty-seven cent words.

I wish I was enough on all counts.

But you know all about that.

Whatever: Almighty or not.

UPdate: I had waaay too much wine. I have heartburn. Funny how heartburn isn’t even an issue when you are twenty. Then again, neither are mortgages. Or a guy showing up from your past to interrupt your happy marital idyll. Hot damn, I love thirty-five. My calves are fucking hot, even if I have to spend twice as long in the gym for them as I used to. Pie=evil. (bastard pie)

Can you tell I’m drunk?? If so, what exactly gave me away?

|| May 4, 2006 || 6:59 pm || Comments (0) ||

Sweet Mother of Pete, I’M HOOKED!

Laydehs and Gennelmens, I hereby proudly present to thee DRAGAPELLA.

Personal favorites of yours truly are Men Are Pigs (But Why Keep Kosher?), Gay SerĂ¡ SerĂ¡, Locked Out Of The Chapel Of Love, Cruise People Uglier Than You, Proud Marys, and Snatchmaker, Snatchmaker.