The Way Things Are






Loose is my specialty
2006-03-24, 1:43 p.m.

Oh, my internet. My beautiful, beautiful, patient internet. I have so much, yet so little time. A big huge deal that I’ve spent two years laboring over is scheduled to close today, come hell or high water (high water being very improbably since it only rains once a year around, but be that as it may…) or Huge Governmental Housing Agency with Issues, and I have lots of loose ends to wrap up. Since loose is my specialty, I don’t foresee any problems.

Another thing that is taking up a lot of my time, work-wise, is an actual federal case that we’re involved in around here, which requires lots of paperwork retrieval (digging around in file boxes and storage units and making copies), and going to court. However, since we spend much time in court around here, I’ve become an old hand at getting sworn in and such, and I realized as I drove home yesterday that the most enjoyable part of my day was gossiping and bullshitting with the Officer of the Court about our mutual friends and acquaintances at the end of the hearing.

I’m pretty cavalier about testifyin’ and such. Blah blah blah, do you swear? I shore do!

My sister, EB, called yesterday (or was it the day before? hmmm….) and I had to call her back since I was already on the phone. Here’s how that conversation went:

Her (very subdued): H’lo?
Me: Hey.
Her (quietly): I just walked into class.
Me: OK. I was just calling you back.
Her: I called because I heard “Brass Monkey”, and it reminded me of you.
Me: I love that that’s the song that reminds people of me. It reminds my boss, the Pres of the Board of Directors, of me.
Her: That’s awesome.
Me: I know. Also, that song “Put Your Big Beat Inside My Boombox, Baby” reminds him of me, too. He sings it to me.
Her: That’s really awesome.
Me: I know. OK, go to class now. Bye.
Her: Bye.

You know, there was a time, back in the 80s, on whatever that soap opera was – was it General Hospital? - you know, the one with Luke and Laura? And there was that song by Christopher Cross, that whiney one with “When you…think of Laura…laugh, don’t cry…” ad nauseum, and that song got a lot of play on the radio, and it would remind people of me, and they would sing it to me.

And that bullshit SUCKED.

I am so glad those days are over, and nobody knows that stupid song anymore, and now songs like Brass Monkey and Put Your Big Beat Inside My Boombox, Baby remind people of me. As well they should.


I got a deep pore cleansing facial yesterday, because apparently I did not have enough scheduled into my day, and felt it was necessary to spend two hours having somebody be quite shocked at how clogged my facial pores are. It was good. I liked it. It didn’t feel like a waste of time, like the facial I had done a few years ago when my break-outy skin was flummoxing me.

My clogged facial pores kept the woman quite busy for a good while. I’ve got some aggravated spots on my face now, but shit, who cares? People are used to that, and ain’t nobody looking at me that closely, anyway. And you know all DW’s concerned with is whether I’m wearing panties (maybe I’m not, and maybe I’m NOT).

I’m a big walking advertisement for geriatric acne anyway, so it’s all good in the name of science. I’m making up for the spots by WAY overdoing the eyeliner again. See? Too much is fun, is what I always say.

In case you have forgotten what I look like.


This is getting a LOT of media play lately in these here parts, and this morning as I drove to work, I was listening to it being rehashed again on hate-filled right-wing talk radio. All this talk about bars, and having a few beers, and blood alcohol levels, and public intoxication, and presenting a danger to oneself or others has left me REALLY wanting to go out tonight and do ALL of those things. So I called DW, and here’s how that went:

Him: H’LOOOO!!!! (Remember, he has no indoor voice)
Me: Do we have any plans for tonight?
Him: None that I know of.
Me: All this talk about the TABC arresting people in bars for being intoxicated is making me want to go out and get intoxicated in public.
Him: So you can get arrested?
Me: No, I just want to drink beer in a public venue. I don’t think anyone’s going to get arrested unless you start dancing.
Him: In my underwear?
Me: That would be sweet. If you could strip your shirt off and whip it around your head, that would be even better.*
Him: Consider it done.

YAY! A boner bonus is that the local TABC agent is, in fact, one of our good friends. Which of course, does not exempt us from being pulled out of the bar and hauled to the pokey for being drunk in public, but would definitely make for a much better story than having a stranger do the hauling off of us.

DW, in his concern for both our (but mainly his) growing weights, ran right out and purchased us some speed Hydroxycut Super Meth 1000. I took one a few mornings ago, but stupidly did so on an empty stomach, something I have had a lot of lately, the empty stomach, BECAUSE I’VE BEEN SO FREAKING BIZZY, and it made me feel sick on my drive to work.

In fact, I had to sit in the parking lot when I got to the office, with those annoying pools of drool puddling in the sides of my mouth, and wait for the nausea to go away so I could walk upstairs.

So this morning, I decided to give it another try, and had that most healthy of breakfasts – a cupcake – and took my Hydroxycut Super Meth 1000 on an unempty stomach. Good Christ! Y’all, you need to run right out and get you some of this because, I don’t know or care whether it stunts your appetite or makes you burn fat or braincells, this shit makes you HAPPY. In fact, it spurred the following conversations, sometime after the drinking-in-public phone call:

Me: Does Hydroxycut Super Meth 1000 have a hornifier in it? Because I am full of horn right now.
DW: Well, that’s just fucking great. What am I supposed to do about that right now?
Me: I know. But you know when I get horny appropos of nothing in the middle of the day, I have to call and tell you about it.
DW: Maybe it will last til this evening.
Me: I’m afraid my horn rises and sets with the sun. But good luck to ya.

And this one:

Me: Is Hydroxycut Super Meth 1000 supposed to cause excessive gleefulness? Because I feel like I took ecstasy.
DW: I have noticed that it’s giving me more energy. That’s why I came home and did the dishes and two loads of laundry and vacuumed the living room instead of collapsing on the couch last night.
Me: Well, I’m going to take another one this afternoon and we’re GONNA PARTY ALL FUCKING NIGHT LONG!!!!!!
DW: How many did you take?

*I am obsessed with people dancing at bars and stripping off their shirts and whipping them around their heads because I’ve done that before I saw a redneck at a lake bar do that once whilst dancing to ACDC, and that’s when I knew I needed a picture phone.

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