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Jett Superior laid this on you on || January 25, 2007 || 1:11 pm

Applaud, you people!

Oh my God, I am so stunningly great at False Gleetm this week. I have elevated it to a breathtaking art form.

Pretty soon I will be able to charge large rolls of dollars for my expert advice in this arena; stay tuned.

As always, your standard Muffinass Discount will apply.

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Earlier I was cheerleading one of our patients via phone. She was being sent out for tests and was nervous.

“Just take a couple shots of rum and sing ‘Victory In Jesus‘ at the top of your lungs. You’ll do great!”

There was a Baptist preacher sitting in the lobby. “Um, I don’t think it works that way.

“Just what religion are you?” The First Church Of The Bobby Jesus’ Magical Train Ride To Heaven. That’s what I wanted to say, but there is indeedy the matter of professionalism. I smiled sweetly at him and blinked slowly.

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A little bit later than that, Tess’ daddy came by to see us. He is one of my Very Most Favorite Men On The Planet. He’s a tough old country cuss with a stinging sense of humor; he wears Carhartt overhauls and an Auburn ballcap wherever he goes. He visits us once, twice a week and brings us fresh produce (pineapples! tomatoes! nanners and onions!) when he does.

“That’ll be five-seventy-five, laydehs,” he tells us. Tess says back, “I’ll pay you on Saturday.” Daddy says, “Then you’ll get that mess of produce on SATURDAY.” but he never means it. It’s just a back-and-forth that they do. He always leaves us sacks and sacks of whatever’s in his produce van, the crusty old so-and-so. I bought him a five-pound tray of shrimp for Christmas brunch this year; you’d have thought I gave him the deed to the Taj Mahal. He sat and plowed through three pounds of it. The rest of us combined threw back a pound. I sent the remainder home with him. Tess says he bragged on me for three weeks afterward: “That girl shore can thow a party.”

Today we were cutting up and he said to me, “Now listen here, you little pigtailed shit, you’re cute but I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.” and pinched my right cheek. It made my damn day.

He always admonishes us before he takes leave of us: “Now, beee-HAYVE.”
When we are trading neck hugs goodbye, we also trade ‘I love yous’. Well, he says, “I love ya, meanness” and I say in return, “I love ya, but I don’t like you much atall.”

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Funny how you can be all, ‘I’m closer to losing my mind than I ever have been before’ and then the next occurrence will trump that one entirely.

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Somebody say something. All of you mouthy bastards have been disconcertingly quiet as of late.

8 worked it out »

  1. MotherFury 1.25.2007

    as you command…

    I love you in spite of your dislike of kitties in hoodies. :-P

     
  2. Shamrock 1.25.2007

    I’m happy! That thing you wrote on 1/20? I dunno . . . I thought you were talking to your blog (is that like talking to yourself?) and were done with it. I’m a dope.

     
  3. skillzy 1.26.2007

    You know that song Love Rollercoaster? The Ohio Players said it like it was a good thing. Not so much, rilly.

     
  4. Jettomatika 1.26.2007

    I am sad we did not have time for forty-eight beers last weekend.

    FUCK THE GALLERIA.

     
  5. Suzanne 1.26.2007

    I’m pretty silent most of the time but I’ll bite on that request. Random question that popped in my head when thinking of you just now: does the Superior family have any animals? (Now or ever?)

    (Pets are my version of chirruns.. and what’s been on my mind lately given the fact that my 1 1/2 year old dog died 2 weeks ago for no known reason. Just waiting on the necropsy results to hopefully find some answers.)

     
  6. Suzanne - part 2 1.26.2007

    OK – and one more thing. Tess’ daddy sounds fabulous!

     
  7. skillzy 1.26.2007

    Yeah, fuck the Galleria. FUCK GAMESTOP TOO!

     
  8. Jettomatika 1.27.2007

    W(h)ii(inerrrr)!

     

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