Not in chronological order, but…
 I LOVE my new blog design!!! LOVE IT! Red has been my favorite color since the womb, so I’m thrilled to be using it here. Jules re-worked the PENSIEVE she had previously designed for me and I have a blush (blog + crush) on the end result. Me L-I-K-E-Y!
Maybe the new look is why my blog was hijacked yesterday!! I’m STILL giggling and shakin’ my head over the comments…who would’ve thunk a little, innocuous movie quote would get things cranked up?
If you haven’t read it and the comments, please do. And add your own insanity, why don’t cha? I’m still looking for answers to my second round of Jeopardy; obviously, readers had their OWN agenda, and that agenda did NOT include playing by my rules…! My Fun Monday post may have been spicy and fun, but that second post? Lucid dreaming!
 Ah HA! I just found out what last night’s comment section was all about…here, for your convenience, a cut and paste from my email:
It was Steve’s fault. He got me drunk. I didn’t leave a pair of panties over there did I?
This explains a lot…and I like it when my blog homies make up names for me. Waffle…go figure….
[2 1/2] Guess who sent one of her brooms to deliver this to me today…WHILE SHE WAS IN THE MIDST OF WEDDING FESTIVITIES, NO LESS?! Supersize the picture, you’ll be jealous… a) because it’s the sweetest, insane-ist note EVAH, and b) because (sing with me) "I GOT ALMOND TOFFEE, I GOT ALMOND TOFFEE!" c) the bumper sticker is gravy…or icing…depending on your preference (thanks, Broomhilda!).
 I received the nicest surprise from one of the nicest bloggers out there last week…one of these :):
Thank you, Deb!
I’m supposed to pass along this little sursee to seven other nice bloggers with this in mind: "This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog
friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for
those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you’ve
been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving
of this award."
Well, the following peeps have been nice in their own way to me, so I’m just passing along the goodwill: Molly, Kristy, Susan (she needs a welcome-back-to-the-blogosphere
or rather back from the dead and ready to party sursee), Kelly (she sent over 400 people to my blog one day!), Kim (who seems to hit my blog when I really need it…), Michelle (she wrote a post just for me….well, kinda sorta), and Malissa (one of my first commentors…and I’ve always said one of the sweetest…even if it’s sporadic these days…she knows I know why 🙂 ).
Pass it on, girlie-Qs :).
Thanks;) I was just thinking “I haven’t been good about commenting on Robin’s blog lately!”
Thanks you made my day!
I don’t know what Min’s talkin’ about. It was just grape juice. Okay, really OLD grape juice. In a bottle. With some vineyard label on the front.
And wait a second…is she sayin’ she left a pair of panties at YOUR place Robin-Waffle? ‘Cause there sure aren’t any lyin’ around here. Just this thong. Not sure what that’s about.
Geez. I was just tryin’ to have a little fun. I didn’t know a party would break out.
And those other quotes? Maximus (Gladiator) and Dumbledore (Harry Potter, Book Six), in that order.
AWWW, thanks Robin! What a treat! From the sweet!
Thank you SO much!! My first award!! 🙂
Malissa, yeah, I’ve been guilty of that with you and just about everyone else!
Steve, DINGDINGDING! You got ’em right! (FINALLY! Someone’s paying attention!). The party sure was fun, but I have no idea why you’re finding ladies unmentionables at your place…!
Kelly, you’re welcome…and the other sweet treat I promised ya? Gimme a little time…I need the heatwave to break!
Michelle, I’m your FIRST?? Wowza! 🙂 Long overdue….!
Steve, thank-you for inviting me over to see your graphics the other night. I’m sorry I didn’t stay longer, but some guys just take too long to upload. Maybe another time…
Congratulations on your score (the quotes, I mean).
Oh…and…that thong? That’s my bra.
Gee… my bloggers don’t send me things 🙁 SO, I suppose that’s how to get on your good side, huh?
Wait a minute, Min, you left your panties at someone else’s house? But I thought (chin quiver) I meant something to you!?!?!?
(and Rodin, your new look kicks butt!)
That would ROBIN! Looks like I need to learn how to type. Besides you already have a new nickname, Waffle.
Aw, nikki, don’t be like that. It was just one of those things. Honest, I don’t even remember what he looks like!
you mean blog & crush ???
I’ve never heard you curse…
I wish I could get in on the wonderful conversation – but you know they are just way over my head with their wit and spit.
Did they meet here – or are they already friends??
What? Min…don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already? Wait…does that mean you had the tattoo of me removed, too? But we agreed to keep ’em for at least a week.
Fine. I’ll stuff the bra in a padded envelope and return it to you right away.
I guess this means it’s over between us. Well…it was fun while it lasted. Hmm…this is where I would probably say something about your “upload” comment, but I’ll try to hang on to whatever dignity I have left and just pretend I said it instead.
Well, it looks as though “The Steve & Min Show” is destined to join a growing fraternity of programs canceled after only one episode including “Emily’s Reasons Why Not” (starring Heather Graham), “Lawless” (starring Brian Bosworth), and “South of Sunset” (starring Glenn Frey). And I was hoping to give “The Simpsons” a run for their money.
Watch for the spinoff, though, coming soon to the CW. It co-stars Patch Adams himself, Robin Wiliams. You guessed it: “The Mork and Min Show.” (Cue laugh track here to cover the sound of a thousand people walking out of the studio.)
Well I suppose I could forgive you Min, but did you have to leave your bra at “his” place too?!?!? What am I chopped liver?
“The Mork and Min Show” snort! Now that would be a classic!
Min! Behave yourself!! Rooowwrr!
MikeY, I’m still waiting on a mac from you!
Nikki, you are chock-full of typos today, lol, and don’t worry, I’m laughing AT you not with you! 🙂
Do I need to remind you girls my blog is PG-rated?! I often say that “blogging is educational” but I don’t want my kids asking “questions” from your shenanigan’s (that includes you, Steve).
Pamela, THANK YOU!!! I HATE my own typos…they DO NOT make me laugh! >:(
I really hate to take credit for their meeting, but I think it was over Braveheart. Or maybe they HAD met before that post, and we just weren’t privvy to their verbal machinations.
Steve, hey…whenever you and Min want another round, feel free to use my blog for your tete-a-tete. Y’all’s insanity (and whoever else tried to chime in) entertained the masses. And me.
That’s nice of Steve to give my new show a little plug despite the way things turned out with us. In return, allow me to insert a brief advert for his new program premiering on ABC this Fall. Steve, which one of the Geico Cavemen did you say you were playing?
I smell an Emmy!!
Min, I was originally cast to play “Trip,” but then John Heard told someone he needed a paycheck “real bad” and they gave the role to him.
I’m not that choked up about it. I’ve been offered a part on the new sitcom, “Sam I Am,” as one of Christina Applegate’s old boyfriends. Not sure if I’ll take the job though, the script says the reason I was dumped has something to do with body odor (that’s not a Emmy you smell).
I will, however, be reprising my role from the much regarded cult hit, “The Steve & Min Show,” in a guest appearance during season 19 of “The Simpsons.”
I asked Groening and the gang why you didn’t sign on the dotted line for that as well and they mumbled something about “scheduling conflicts”. Is that true? I guess I can’t complain. They got Kate Beckinsale to sub for you.
Good luck with “The Mork and Min Show.” (And say “hi” to Pam Dawber when she returns for a cameo as Mork’s alien mother. I mean, have you SEEN Pam lately?)
Gee Steve…you really know how to twist the knife. Groening and I go way back to the Film Roman days. Phil Roman was finishing up work on yet another Emmy winning Garfield special when he invited me to an animators luncheon. Groening was wooing him for the Simpson contract. Matt and I hit it off and started having a relationship, but it was HELL. He tried to bring a rabbit into it…and…well, we all know how I react to rabbits and menthol cough drops. I went on a ramage lopping off appendages with a pair of nail clippers and ended up tossing a rabbit ear out of the car window. Matt’s been trying to get me back ever since. I think he’s very nice, but I could never work with him.
As for Pam playing the role of Mork’s mother…you probably didn’t notice the other night that I’m about twice her age.
I love what a couple of shots of Southern Comfort do to a man’s eyesight!!
I have no idea what a ramage is, but I did go on one.
I LOVE the new look – I guess you could say it brought in tons of SPICINESS.
and here you were – bemoaning a few weeks back that NOBODY comments anymore. Geezareeni.
Nicely played, Min. Now I understand where all of Groening’s angst comes from. Life is indeed Hell, it seems, for one who has been spurned by the Min-ster. Let’s hope the end of our short-lived (mostly professional) relationship is much more civil. Does it help that I can’t draw?
And it wasn’t the Southern Comfort, it was my own advancing age combined with a rare but precious blindness known as “trust” (aka: gullibility). You said you were 29.
(BTW, Pam was born in ’51. Just so you know. You look pretty good for a centegenarian.)
Ah, yes, glad to see the conversation is still going…I go out for the afternoon, Steve & Min are at it again. Hmmm, interesting choice of words, don’t you think? Don’t mind me visiting my own blog…just checking in to see what’s going on.
Karmyn, who would’ve thought all I needed to do was to put on a sexyhot little red dress? Geezareeni is right…People are EASY! 😉
I WAS twenty-nine, but that was forty-three years ago. If you need a refresher on how I looked when I left yesterday morning go to Willowtree’s post from yesterday. I hired him to hide in the closet paparazzi style hoping to get some good blackmail shots.
You don’t know how to draw? Well frankly, neither does Matt.
I’ve got to get back to my site…I think there’s an argument breaking out in the war room.
Very nice blog layout – crisp but warm and inviting at the same time. Nice.
Min, when the cat’s away…;)
Catez, well, now…great to see ya and welcome back to the blogosphere :). (and thanks for your kind words)
Is she gone?
Whew. I was hiding under the table holding my breath. I mean, she’s all kinds of fun for a 72-year-old mother of teenagers, but…she scares me.
Now then, Waffle, did you get ahold of those intervention specialists? Good. So…just like we planned, you have them pretend to be representatives from the William Morris Agency…and they go to Min’s house and…
…hang on…someone’s at the door…
…wow, what a coincidence. It’s a couple of reps from the William Morris Agency. They want ME to star in a new sitcom on Fox this fall, something called “White Room.” (Sounds edgy, don’t you think?) I mean…I was just making up all that other stuff and now here I am poised to be a star…wait…what’s that white coat with all the straps? Oh…my character’s costume. Okay. Sure. Yeah, I can come with you to the studio…
It s ha a r r d d t o t yp e with thes s tr appss…………
Sorry Steve, “The White Room” was just the working title.
Welcome to “Shock Treatment”.
See what happens when I miss visiting you for 48 hours? All this “conversation” and I don’t have a clue what’s going on.
1) Except that you are sweet.
2) And even sweeter since you have now consumed the toffee.
3) My “wedding list” was things like: chapeau, shawl, gloves, shoes, bra, (Oh, no, wait! That’s Min. I don’t wear bras.) gift, card, Fed Ex toffee to my friend, Robin…
4. Slept with my 2 year old grand daughter last night. I can’t tell you the feeling of waking up to her soft, gentle breathing.
5. We are in the midst of a beautiful prefacae to a wedding on Saturday.
6. What can I say but be sure to visit tomorrow.
7. It’s a special day at The Asylum and you were a part from the beginning.
8. Sweet eats from Colorado.
So now I’m completely confused.
AWWWWW shucks, Robin! Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing! I’ve been told that I’m “too nice” before, but I’ve never been awarded for it! I’ll accept! Besides, the award goes nicely with my china. I’m a big fan of pink roses 😉
Swampy, I’ve been here for the entire ride and I’M confused! Entertained, yes, but totally befuddled, too :). #4 on your list was precious and I’ll be sure to pop in to find out about #6!
Kelly, yep, it’s like watching a train wreck, huh?
Susan, can you ever be too thin or too nice? Ummm, yeah and yep… That being said, I think you’re just.right. 🙂
Well, as you’ve probably all figured out by now, you’ve been watching the “lost episode” of “The Steve & Min Show.” No blog commenters were actually committed to asylums during this program.
Watch for the off-Broadway debut of the renamed-for-legal-reasons (something to do with the witness protection program) “Min & Some Other Guy Bloggy Musical Extravaganza” next month in a not-quite-condemned theater in downtown Atlanta. It’s essentially all the same content from Robin’s blog (both episodes), but set to music collaboratively composed by Andrew Lloyd Weber and GWAR. Min will be reprising her blog commenter role on stage and “Some Other Guy” will be portrayed by a series of no-name second-tier Broadway wannabes in search of a Tony.
Thanks for your patronage. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blogcast.
Some other guy is actually being portrayed by Bucket Head. The question is, who’s portraying Bucket Head?
Now I’m lost.
Take me home Robin.
“Robin’s not here Mrs. Torrence.”
But I’m happy to help those who are lost. My advice?
“Go into the light. There is peace and serenity in the light.”
Come with me Steve. All work and no play makes Stevie a dull boy.
Okay…so where are we going? That light doesn’t look so peaceful and serene after all. Is it an oncoming train?
And how did you know I was working? Okay, I’ll take a break. I’d hate to be a dull boy…
Good night Mrs Calabash where ever you are!
(I had to say something. I feel so lost)
The light is a Sno-kat traveling in a disturbingly stealth manner, piloted by an ethereal hooded creature who answers to the name of Guy Fleegman.
Dinka doo to you too Pamela!
Awww, Robin. . .
How kind of you!!! That was a nice bit of encouragement during a time when I’ve been “down in the mouth.” I’ve been on sort of a bloggy break most of the summer–just barely keeping up–and have felt so out of touch. Been thinking of giving it all up and slinking away. So this was especially appreciated!
Your blog is beautiful. Jules is so talented–not only in her designs but in her ability to see your vision with you!
Min…Steve…I’d like to invite y’all over for “tea” (and by “tea” I mean an INTERVENTION).
Now I’m having to google wtheck y’all are talkin’ about. Me…on my own dang blog.
Pamela, perfect remark…
Oops, Kim, I didn’t see your comment (which made my day, btw). I know how you feel about summer bloggin’…just doesn’t go over so well for some of us :/. Thanks for your kind words, too.
Wow! Love the new look! I am SO out of the loop! Reminds me I need to try to sneak away to my guilty blogging please more often when the baby is sleeping instead of unloading the dishwasher (dishes can wait–the blogosphere is constantly changing!)
Fleegman! That’s it! I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places!
Oh, and I meant to say – I love the new look! !t is so attractive that you’ve got company that doesn’t seem to want to leave!
That’s right Lloyd, you “corrected” me!
Thanks, Sabrina…havin’ a baby will do that to ya!
Nutso, thanks and…I can almost hear you singing that…
Min………thanks for the memories 😉 :).
“Sure, they’re cute now, but in a second they’re gonna get mean, and they’re gonna get ugly somehow, and there’s gonna be a million more of them.”
Guy Fleegman??? I thought you were dead!
I’ll tell ya this much, y’all are killin’ ME!
Shhhh!…Quiet!!!…Shhh!…Everybody hide. Robin’s back.
Back from the dead, Min…ready to p a r t y 😉
…and going, and going, and going…
Sorry I’m late…I fell asleep on the bus and missed my stop. Had to walk six miles to get here. But hey, I brought Cheetos, Diet Mountain Dew and travel Scrabble. Who’s ready to p a r t y?
Um…hello? Is anyone here?
“Diet” Mountain Dew? Are you implying that I need to lose weight?
Make it cashews and big ol’ bowl of M&Ms…with a side of chips and salsa (heavy on the cilantro)…and I’m there :).
Man, you’ve got a lot of comments. I almost forgot what I was going to say.
Red is one of my favorite colors – dark red. In fact, I’m hoping to find dark red roof shingles for my house. Hope the hubby goes for it.
Waffle, I don’t think I’ve mentioned how very effective the new look is. I feel very at home here.
Ditto Min’s sentiment. It’s a warm, friendly place. And magically delicious, too.
Like pudding in a cloud…and regular mountain dew.
Sally, I ALMOST forgot what I was gonna say! Glad you checked in and thanks for your thoughts :).
Min, I’m glad you feel at home… truly… really… you’re keeping my blog somewhat interesting while I weed through a thousand pictures trying to write our Wyoming trip…I’m having fun reliving THAT (but writing a post is about to do me in)!
Stephen, thanks, kiddo…and back to Min (I feel like I’m playing ping pong), better pudding in a cloud than drenched all over from pudding wrestling.
If that needs further explanation, I’m afraid you’ll have to read old Mama Drama comments…I have NO idea where to direct anyone to THAT!
And I’m with ya on REGULAR Mt. Dew–booyah, I like it caff all the way!
Okay. I’ll switch back to regular Mt. Dew. But that means I’ll have to start exercising again. I seem to recall having tried this once before back in the ’80s with questionable results.
Hmm…I suppose I could dust off that plastic exercise device I bought back in the day – the one I keep under the futon next to unopened collectible box of Quake cereal and the Twister game (with the broken spinner than always lands on right hand green). I don’t remember if I ended up purchasing the Simply Ab-Tastic! or the Ab-Relocater 2000, or the “Six-Pack, My Abs”.
Or maybe I could join the pudding wrestling circuit. Is there a chapter in Colorado? Do you need a cool nickname? Is there a dress code?
Sorry Steve, Robin mislead you. The pudding wrestling is “ladies only”…but your welcome to watch. I was always partial to Quisp, but pretended to prefer the more macho counterpart, because he was less popular to eight year old girls. Who can resist a small green alien early in the morning?
One question keeps me up at night, perhaps you can put my mind at ease: Where is the Yukon?
…And you’re welcome to use my thighmaster.
The Yukon is one of Canada’s three territories…wait…did you mean the lovable great pyr I’ve mentioned over on my old blog? He’s living with my ex and her husband (where the kids also currently live)…or did you mean Yukon Corneilus? He’s still struggling in dental school. Turns out you have to have steady hands for that line of work and he’s had Puppetarkinson’s Disease since before his well-documented partnership with Rudolph. I’m still cheerin’ him on, though. As long as he limits his practice to “bumbles” he should be fine.
BTW, I voted for Quake cereal during the Great Cereal Election of 1970 (I was eleven at the time, but you could vote as an eleven-year-old in this election). I just liked the taste better.
I’m not anti-Quisp or anything, though. I support all cereals, terrestrial or extra-terrestrial. (You can still get Quisp cereal at http://www.quisp.com)
And thanks for the info about the pudding wrestling. I guess I should cancel that order I just made at http://www.leotards.com.
Do you think it’s possible to reach 100 comments on this post? Because clearly y’all are ever-so-interested in my “Three things” posted here.
Yep…that’s what’s keepin’ this thing going.
Ladies and gentlemen, the animals are running the zoo…;).
I recall that election well. I think I voted for Quisp 14 times…If I remember right that was shortly before the independent “Buckwheats” party became the emerging trend. Ah but that was before my own “better-late-than-never” Haight-Ashbury days when I learned to subsist on wheat germ and thistle seed which is quite possibly what ultimately led me here…to Waffle…and you…and Yukon Corneilus (I don’t feel the need to go into a discussion on whether or not Bumbles bounce, because it has been my experience that they do indeed!)
A more difficult question for you, which if you answer correctly, you will win an ounce of nirvana in a convenient pocket-sized, carry-along spritzer:
Where is Savoir Faire?
Robin Kiddo Waffle, I’ve been meaning to ask you…is the “thrice” noted in your post title an implicit command for readers to select only three of your FOUR numbered items? Or is this sort of like Douglas Adams five-part “HItchhiker’s Guide…” trilogy?
Your blog design is REDiculously swell. And that Steve & Min show? Super keen and groovy. I like toffee, too. And nice bloggers.
There. Now it’s all about your three things.
On to 100 comments we go…
And Min…about Savoir Faire…give me a minute…
Steve, If you are attempting to google search the answer…You may want to include the word “mincemeat” in your search.
Or maybe you won’t need to.
Butternut squash soup (that has nothing to do with the answer…it’s just a pleasant thought).
OH MY EVER LOVIN’ WORD!!!!!!!
Savoir Fair Boy…it began as THREE and I never noticed the title didn’t match the post…until now…
For the love of butternut squash soup…I’ve lost my mind in public!
Have a waffle…you’ll feel better.
The Savoir Faire was an event instituted by well-meaning Christians from Scarborough who wanted to offer an alternative to the well-attended Scarborough Fair (which became the setting for a very old, paradoxical love song made most famous by Simon & Garfunkel).
This small but dedicated group had become increasingly concerned about the growing pleasure-seeking component of the famous mercantile event (jesters and jugglers and dancers, oh my!*) and intended to offer a Family Friendly, Church Endorsed variation for those who preferred to enjoy their worldly pleasure-seeking in secret.
However, by hiring the relatively cheap, Dyslexic Marketing Copmany, they doomed the event to failure since no one knew what a Savoir was. Additionally, too many of the people in their targeted demographic accidentally pronounced that extra “e” as an additional syllable and thought the event was for tiny flying creatures from the very sort of fantastical literature they had been banned from reading.
Or do you mean the Canadian television show on entertaining? The old-school computer text adventure game? Yeah, I guess I don’t win the nirvana. Do I get a runner-up prize? A signed photo of Kurt Cobain, perhaps?
I know…I really do…you meant the mouse always being chased by Klondike Kat. A cartoon that aired along with the Don Adam’s voiced Tennessee Tuxedo.
I just wanted to make up an answer of my own, too.
*This reference is intended to send you to Robin’s “The (not so) Wild West Post,” above, Item #8. Thanks for playing. Have a nice day.
And Robin, no worries on the numbering snafu. It’s an easy fix. Just skip item number four when you get to it in your “The (not so) Wild West” posts and the universe will settle into proper balance.
The natural result of this sudden shift back to equilibrium will jar your mind loose from its current location so it can settle once again in the middle of your skull where it belongs.
You haven’t really lost your mind. It’s just fallen between the cushions.
A recent photo of Kurt Cobain? That couldn’t be very attractive. The answer was just one word!
…and an ubiquitous word it is, too!
Do you happen to have one the original LP album covers of the Talking Heads, “Fear of Music”? The one with the raised bumps…not the lame one they mass produced later on because of the controversy concerning the issue of whether or not album covers do feel pain. Not that I condone cruelty to cardboard, but that album happens to be the Excaliber that I am currently in search of.
Ah, yes, “Savoir Faire is Everywhere!” I don’t think I know how to do one-word answers.
Alas, I have no LPs left. They went along with nearly everything else in my “If It Doesn’t Fit in My ’97 Dodge Neon, I Can’t Keep It” garage sale last year. I didn’t have that original in my collection…though I have a friend who might. I’ll email him and see if he’s saved his LPs.
I’m not wanting to purchase it…I’m just looking for the answer to a question that intrigues me…so actually, if he has the lame one, that would be okay too.
We seem to be alone now.
I’ll put on some music.
Looks like I’m alone now.
Good. I can listen to whatever I want.
….just as long as it’s Bobby Sherman’s greatest hits ;).
Stephen, lemme guess…brevity ain’t your strong suit…but levity just might be ;).
robin, Steve’s gone. It’s just us.
Got any candles?
…the scent of sun-ripened raspberries (are you good with that? I’m a Bath & Body luvah).
We have this great ice-cream here (made in Texas). It is the most wonderful vanilla in the world.
I love getting a bowl of it, covering it with fresh berries and taking it in to the tub with me. Of course, the tub is loaded with fragrant bubbles and I light a couple of candles for nuance.
I hope the guys aren’t reading, they’d try to make this something it’s not.
Or…maybe Steve’s just standing back in the shadows wondering what happens when Robin and Min think Steve is gone.
Okay, yeah. I was away. Out to dinner. With Real Live People. Two of them. I told them I was homeless and asked for money so they fed me instead. (This always works.)
“…I oughta know, easy come, easy go…”
“…Julie, Julie, Julie do you love me…”
I got a Bobby Sherman record off the back of a box of Sugar Smacks once. And an Archie’s record. I loved those cardboard records.
And what else do I love? Candles…the scent of sun-ripened raspberries…vanilla ice cream…fragrant bubbles…wait..did I just write that out loud?
Crap. Someone must’ve put some sodium pentothol in my drink. Please don’t ask my any questions or I’ll be compelled to tell the truth.
Double crap. Why did I just say tell you that?
Just don’t ask me if I used to sew clothes for my G. I. Joes back when I was in the sixth grade.
Oh, and my friend didn’t have his copy of the LP anymore. What was your intriguing question?
Hey, just a few more comments to go and we’ll hit the century mark.
Waffle, Steve has been fraternizing with real people.
We can’t let you do that, Steve.
Cyberspace is your home now. Everything you require is here. You no longer have reason to associate with natural or emotional things.
We have been programed to meet all your requirements.
Soon, you will be reprogrammed too.
You’ll feel no pain.
It will be a slight chill jumping from synapse to synapse until all becomes clear and you shall be at peace.
You can’t program me…I’m not so easily swayed. Hey, that’s a pretty watch…I like watches on chains…why are you swinging it like that? Left to right, then right to left, then left to right, then right to left…left to right…right to left…left to…
Daisy, daisy, give me your answer do, I’m half crazy, all for the love of you…
“Hello, Soylent Green? We have a pick-up.”
Soylent Green is people!
The hypnotism didn’t work. I was just pretending. Would you like me to sing another song? I know lots of songs.
Do you know Nessum dorma by Puccini? Or Nutbush City Limits by Ike and Tina?
So about the conga drums in tracks 1 and 5 on The Fear of music album…
Do you think waffle lady would forgive us if we stopped at comment 99? Where are we now.
I wish I had a coffee maker.
I think this is comment 89.
Waffle lady seems harmless enough…but don’t feed her after midnight and definitely don’t let her anywhere near water.
Nessun dorma – yes. Brilliant. I am less familiar with Ike & Tina’s body of work, other than “Proud Mary” of course, since I was mostly listening to ELP’s Brain Salad Surgery and Yes’s Close to the Edge and that ilk in 1973, 74.
A conga drum question? That IS pretty specific.
So go get a coffee maker. I think Wal Mart is still open.
1) I remember cereal box 45s! What a GREAT blast from the past!!!
2) I was thinking “Julie, Julie, Julie…”, too :).
3) SOYLENT GREEN TOTALLY FREAKED ME OUT as a kid!!! Disturbed for weeks…maybe even years!
4) Nothin’ wrong w/a man in touch w/his fem side.
5) I have a used coffee maker that still kinda sorta works…want that?
6) I was just kidding, btw, about 100 comments. Y’all really didn’t have to go to so much trouble. Do you think anyone’s reading all of this?
Wal Mart was still open!!! You should see all the stuff I bought!!
I got this gadget that will peel an egg for you if you attach it to the faucet!!
A snarky magic eightball.
A novel with a picture of two absolutely perfect people on the cover locked in an embrace…well…not “locked” in an embrace cause it looks like he’s about to drop her, which doesn’t surprise me with all the weight of her “upper area” to support. Her dress, however, is actually on the brink of falling off…
I also got a Pink Floyd, “Dark Side” T-shirt (prism and all) that, once discovered by my son, will never grace my bodacious ta-ta’s again.
A got some cool velcro that is sticky on the back, so now I can velcro anything to anything!!!
I forgot the coffee maker.
You shop like I clean…ADD shopping is DANGEROUS! At least you didn’t purchase any small appliances that could burn your house down.
And, Min, bodacious ta-tas??? You little trollop, you! 😉
I want a snarky magic eight ball. Does it say things like, “Yeah, right. Like that will ever happen”?
And you’ll soon discover that the power of the velcro is far greater than the power of the sticky. This tends to be a depressing realization.
Didn’t the Bodacious Ta-ta’s open for Floyd in the mid-70s? So…when you wear that shirt, it’s sorta like a reunion tour.
Let me guess the name of the novel: “Love’s Last Embrace”? No…”The Mostly True Adventures of Dashing Hero Guy and the Woman He Saves from Certain Death”? No…”How I Survived the Reagan Years”? Or maybe, “The Real Story Behind Sir Isaac Newton’s Discovery of Gravity.”
Your visit to Wal Mart reminded me I need to go there too. To pick up some family photos. Not from the photo shop. I just like the pics of the people in the frames. I give them names. My favorite is of Skip and Taffy. They’re a beautiful couple. Clearly in love. I think I’ll have them over for dinner soon.
I hope they don’t expect coffee. I don’t have a coffee maker.
I should get one. Maybe I’ll go to…Target. Yeah. The people in their frames are even lovelier.
Floyd and Ta-ta reunion! Makes me feel good all over. Of course, both groups are a lot older now and bodacious dropped (literally) out of the band a long time ago.
When I was a child, I carried around a swimsuit photo of Nancy Kwan. She must’ve been one of your cousins, because she came with the wallet. She quickly became my favorite actress…even though I never saw her in anything. I prefer to have secret carry around friends, because “People who have been framed” sounds too much like a support group or a new reality show.
The only two answers I got from the eight ball were “I don’t care” and “whatever”. Since I already have two teen-agers, I decided I get enough of that already, so it will probably become a blog prize of some kind.
I haven’t opened the novel yet, but the cover promises great things. I think it came highly recommended by the Pulitzer board or Oprah or somebody. I think I saw the author Whispy Windows interviewed on some show…yeah…it was the Jerry Springer Show.
So, if you had your choice between the Renaissance Fair and the Charles Dicken’s festival, which would you choose. Keeping in mind that the Dicken’s Fest is free if you come in costume, which would it be?
Hmm…I’d probably choose the Renaissance Fair only because I’m not a huge fan of gruel, and I just know at the Dickens’ festival that would be the food of choice and everyone would be saying, “please, sir, can I have some more?” when they don’t really mean it.
Of course, if the Renaissance Fair was hyper-commercialized or super fake, I’m not sure I’d enjoy that so much, even if the wenches were cute. I mean…let’s see some actual lancing at the joust, none of this pretend stuff.
So how about I sneak into the Renaissance Fair to grab some food (turkey leg anyone?), then get into costume and lose myself in the Dickens’ fest for a while? There’s nothing quite like a bleak portrait of England to brighten the day of someone who tends to live for tragedy anyway.
Still, as you can tell, I’m not very good at making decisions. Or maybe I am. No, I’m not. But I could be. I think. Probably not.
I’m lacking about 15 inches of white lace for the costume. Do you think Target would have that? And would you mind…(as long as you’re there anyway)?
It’s actually the same dress for both, except the Victorian one is not as old. For Dickens I wear it high necked, but for Renfest…the dickie comes out!
I’m comment 96. That means that if things continue this way, the burden will be on me whether to push the comments into the three digit category. Such a responsibility!
Passing the buck.
Is the buck naked or nekkid?
Sure, I’ll see if Target has the lace. And if they don’t, I’m sure the fabric shop across the parking lot does. And I’m afraid my jester costume doesn’t serve dual purpose. Unless…maybe there’s a Renaissance Fair going on somewhere inside the Dickens’ Fest? Did they have them back then to add color and frivolity to the gray?
I think we just have to leave the count at 99. Let’s watch Waffle wrestle with the decision to make that milestone comment herself.
Hey, if this is the last of my comments, allow me to say “it’s been fun.” Shake that snarky magic eight ball and ask if it’s likely we’ll have another blog coup someday.
Okay…one more comment from you, then we wait. Perspiration will bead on Robin’s forehead. She’ll swear under her breath. (Maybe even out loud.) Then she’ll laugh. But will she comment?
That seriously was driving me nuts.
Oh no! I’ve made the number odd again!
Steve, you ready to go 99 more to balance it out?
How come no one answered my question? Or did I ask the wrong one? Is it butt naked?
(thank you, Michelle…the flying monkey is now off my back…Min’s…AND Steve’s….)
In my house, if Phil’s talking the buck is nekkid. If I’m talking, it’s naked.
It’s all good either way. Nekkid, Naked, we have fun. 😉
Hey ‘chelle, I’m still nearby…
Nothin’ like good, clean, naked-nekkid fun! 😀
Sorry Robin, Steve and I have moved on, you and Michelle will have to keep your nasty nudiditity to yourselves.
Min, it was CLEAN fun!!! Steve’s so quiet, I wonder if he staged a blog coup elsewhere…
Stephen has entered a sensory deprivation tank and will return once he’s been sufficiently sensorially deprived.
[This message was autogenerated by the FauxReal 3000 Artificial Intelligence Program. Most of the comments in this blogpost were also generated by this program. For more information on the FauxReal 3000 AIP, visit the dark recesses of your imagination.]
Stephen, that sounds sooooo Michael Jackson-ish…
Min, I’ve always wondered what that meant…!
It means he’s watching “Beetlejuice” and smoking a pack of Kents. I understand he’s big on Winona Ryder.
I just finished Stephen King’s Cell. My mind is going crazy with the possibilities of Stephen’s re-booting.
I never quite understood where all those people were going? To Maine? Why Maine? I mean, I know that’s where Stephen King lives and all, but what was driving everyone North?
Min, I thought it was Kate…Winslet OR Beckinsdale. And Kents? What about Lucky Strikes?
Michelle, SK is just wrong on soooo many levels… What’s this one about???
Robin, if you have a cell phone, you may want to turn it off before reading that book.
[Rebooting sequence complete. Please enter the following information to complete start-up process.]
Cigarette: Kings (candy cigarette brand of champions, not endorsed by Stephen King)
Favorite Kate: Beckinsale
Second Favorite Kate: Winslet
Third Favorite Cate: Blanchett
Fourth Favorite Kate: Juliette Binoche
Gas or Electric: Gas
Licorice Altoids: Tasty
Statcounter or Private Investigator: Statcounter
Loss Leader or Bait & Switch: Bait & Switch
Please choose new password: ******
Please re-type password: ******
Stephen 2.0 is now fully operational. Would you like to vew the tutorial? N
Would you like to log in to the Internet? Y
Where would you like to go?
Cirque du Soleil.
I want to see acrobats.
Which Cirque du Show? Corteo? Kooza? Mystere? Quidam? Saltimbanco? “O”?
Or maybe Robin has Super-8 movies of her HS cheerleading days. You were a cheerleader, weren’t you? Or was it marching band? Chess club? Debate team?
And does anybody know what the rebooting software meant by “vew” the tutorial? I hope I answered that one right.
Not Corteo. Corteo makes me fall in love.
Is O the one in the water?
Vew the Tutorial is one of the muses. She took Erato’s place when the Internet was established. Erato was banished to a guy named Floyd McCree’s blogsite, but managed to sneak back into the grander universe of cyberspace via a bug known as the subway virus and is often found haunting children’s sites managing to slip-in when parental blockers are disabled. Vew the Tutorial is known to be difficult and displays behavior tantrums due to her jealousy of Erato’s popularity.
Thanks for the explanation of Vew the Tutorial. So is she related to Exit the Tutorial?
Yes, “O” is the one in the water. In Las Vegas. I’ve never been, but if my sources are correct, it’s best to wait for the midnight show. Patrick Duffy supposedly makes an appearance to hum the theme song to The Man From Atlantis.
Patrick Duffy. I haven’t seen him since Brideshead Revisited. (or even then, actually)
I recall most recently not seeing Patrick Duffy on that series with Suzanne Somers. And even though I wish I didn’t know the title of the show, sadly I do. Step by Step.
Hmm…that Somers reference circles back to a previous comment in which you offer to loan me your Thighmaster. Readers need to be careful here and avoid the temptation to re-read that Thighmaster comment or they might get stuck in an infinite loop.
Why not? We’ve been stuck in that loop for three days. I’m going to suffer severe culture shock when I finally get out of here.
Did you bring any food?
Yeah, I have food. Froot Loops (seemed appropriate) and beef jerky. Maybe that’s reason enough to find a way out…
Is there any fruit in them?
Are you going over the wall?
No fruit in them. Just froot.
Yes, I think it’s time to go over the wall. You?
Yes, time to slip out of this persona and find a soft spot in the grass to curl up in.
*Yawn*. Good morning. I’m ready for my Frooootloooops Mr. DeMille.
Man, I was
tossing and turningsleeping peacefully and y’all were having Fruit Loops and Beef Jerky? Didn’t even invite me to my own party!? Geez, that’s the thanks I get for hosting a three-day binge for you two?
Thanks for the fun, y’all. You give great blog ;).
Sorry I didn’t hear you earlier – I slipped over the wall during the night when the guards weren’t looking and fell into a gorse bush. I’m still pulling yellow flowers out of my ears .
I tossed a rope over so you can make your escape as well. Just don’t look back or you’ll turn into a pillar of salt. (Those strange looking grey-white gargoyles along the wall weren’t always there.)
A glass of cold milk and a bowl of froot loops await on the other side…
I didn’t tell you that I’m a bit agoraphobic. I think I’ll just stay here on Robin’s blog. It feels safe here. You may eat the Froot Loops…just leave the empty bowl where it is, Robin will clean it up. She cleans everything!
I suspected the agoraphobia. I’ll toss over a new box of the Loops and use the rope to lower a jug of milk. Sorry I can’t stay…I’m going on a little explore. Not sure where…but I’ll leave breadcrumbs on my latest blog.
I’ll check back when I can. Meanwhile, I’m sure Robin will take good care of you.
It feels safe there…because it is.
Min…wanna play Scrabble? I have a slightly chilled Pinot Noir and some cashews…
Yes, of course. I wasn’t ignoring you. I’m tring to build a scale model of the Eifel tower out of twist ties to give as my “secret Santa” gift at this year’s office Christmas party. Sometimes I get very involved.
Wine and nuts! How delightful.
Eifel? What in the world’s an Eifel?
It’s what my boys got when they accidentally walked in on me in the shower ;).
Yes, I saw your extremely humorous retort and didn’t think I could ever follow anything so very witty!
I am still tittering.
titter, titter, titter, titter,titter, titter, titter, titter, titter, titter…
I was sooo hoping I’d get a giggle out of you…that you have multiple titters? Icing on the cake :D!
Cake? You’ve got cake?
Hey, did somebody say cake? Is it Italian Creme Cake?
(Hi Min…how’s Robin treating you? Does she tease you with cake often?)
Steve? When did you get back? Any thing new? Did you get a haircut? What’s that…a tattoo!?!
Yes, a tattoo. Of the Eifel Tower. Do you know about the Eifel Tower? Not the two-eff one in France. This one’s in Tanzania and is a natural rock formation, not a man-made structure. If you stand in the right place at just the right time of day (early morning), you can see what looks like the shape of a woman behind the waterfall.
I think the name came from the first English explorer to see it. It’s a case of something getting lost in the translation. Locals did their best to record what he said…but somehow “eye-full” and “shower” were the only words they remembered…and they didn’t even remember them accurately.
I’m thinking of getting a tattoo of the Leaning Flower of Giza for the other arm. You do know about the Leaning Flower of Giza, don’t you?
I had wondered about that missing “f”, but Robin, as always, tried to make it all about her. I knew there had to be another explaination.
Are you by any chance thinking of the leaning flower of Gaza? Which I was always taught was simply a reference to the act of ultimate betrayal: Judas Iscariot leaning over to plant the bittersweet flower of a kiss on the tender lips of Christ before wandering off from the ironically named “hanging Gardens of Gesthemane” into the brutal guilt ridden desert.
Or were you refering to the old hanging flower of the “geeza” who lives on the corner and is always trying to talk my kids into petting his cat?
Okay…I committed the typo felony again.
Robin, why do you let editors onto this site?
Well, now that IS interesting about the Leaning Flower of Gaza. Because now that I think of it, the Leaning Flower of Giza does look like a kiss of betrayal if you squint and tilt your head and blink rapidly.
The Leaning Flower of Giza I’m referring to was discovered in one of the burial chambers of Khufu’s Pyramid – which was built more than 2500 years before the birth of Christ. Hmm…prophecy, or coincidence?
How did a flower grow in that dark tomb? Is that the miracle part? I think the ‘geeza’ down the street was born about 2500 years before christ too.
Yes, that’s the miracle part. The leaves and stem were pure white…but the flower itself? (Not a variety any had seen before or since.)
As you can tell, I didn’t waste my time away from Robin’s Safe Haven of Thrice (in which she means four).
Next adventure for me? I’m thinking of going diving in the Bermuda triangle. Searching for evidence to support Erich von Daniken’s alien theories. (I ran into his daughter, Cornelia, at the Giza pyramid. Nice gal. She’s radioactive, you know.)
My you have been busy. I knew you weren’t wasting your time (at least, I knew about eight minutes and twenty seconds worth).
I recall reading those “Ancient Astronauts” books. Von Daniken was quite popular for a while…at least until Wilson Bryan Key’s book came out and everyone lost interest in examining the droppings of aliens in olden times in lieu of observing naked shellfish writhe around around on a lunch platter and other equally sensible subliminal methods of coercion.
Have fun with Cornelia. I’m waiting for Robin to come back with the Italian cream cake.
Hey, Has anyone seen Steve??
I thought he was with you.
Watch out, Honey, your dripping electrons all over the place. Robin likes a clean blog.
[Shh…don’t let Cornelia know I’m here. I mean, she’s a lovely woman and all – but she glows and I don’t mean because she’s pregnant. I always have a Geiger* counter with me (you never know), and she was really putting off the rads there under the pyramid. I’m just not ready for growing a seventh finger on my left hand, you know? (Don’t ask about the sixth…and please stifle all sneezes around me. They always sounds too much like “Chernobyl”. Thanks)]
Why am I suddenly hungry for shrimp scampi?
*That’s Geiger as in German scientist Johannes Wilhelm Geiger, not Giger as in H. R. Giger, Swiss surrealist and creator of the biomechanical life form and otherworldly environment in Ridley Scott’s brilliantly creepy Alien movie.
Ridley Scott. I’m quite greatful to him, because he catapulted Sigourney Weaver to the esteemed position she now holds in the cinematic realm. Back when she was just “little Susie Weaver” the kids used to laugh at her height. Her Uncle “Doodles” used to work with Spike Jones (not to be confused with Spike Jonze of Being John Malkovich) back in the olden days of radio. Doodles was well liked, but how much can you respect a man who hangs an upside down crucifix over his fireplace? Anyway, Little Susie, being much my senior, never wore those big pink curlers in her hair like Cybill Shepherd did when she used to hide down in my friend’s fall-out shelter during tornado warnings. Those were the lovely salad days when we dreamed big dreams and ate salad…lots of salad.
Shrimp Scampi sounds nasty! I want some too.
Oh, and I’m grateful for being greatful. (Why can’t I just take a second and read these comments before I push send?)
I remember tornado warnings and hiding in the basement until the “all clear” siren would sound back when I was a youngun. (My mom always brought Hershey bars downstairs to join us in our Adventures in Wind-Waiting. Ever since, I always picture roofs blowing off of houses when I see a Hershey bar. Not sure that was my mother’s intent.)
Northern Illinois wasn’t quite tornado alley, but we had our share of spinny-winds and fallout-shelter dreams. The closest thing to a celebrity to join us in the basement was probably an old Bob Dylan LP my dad hadn’t sufficiently hidden from his impressionable children who believed he only listened to hymns and classical music. (Though it would have made for a cute-and-funny-maybe-poetic-not-ironic mention right here in this comment, “Blowin’ in the Wind” wasn’t on that particular Dylan album.)
About those little typos of yours? I think it’s grate I’m not the only one who makes ’em. But when I do? I am reminded quite vividly that I suffer from a rare form of Editorial Tourettes and spit words at the computer screen that I otherwise almost never use. (Of course, as I say ’em, I’m spellchecking them in my head. There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there.)
Is that a question? (Your punctuation is a little vague).
Illinois, makes me think of warm buttered toast. Y’all had some weird stuff there…I think it was called snow and it always piled itself high around the posts at the Brookfield Zoo. I’m pretty sure that the ghost of Elvis haunts that zoo. It would be just like him.
“Vague Punctuation” will be the name of my new CD. Now I need to learn how to play an instument and sing.
So…you’ve seen my posts about Brookfield Zoo over at countingonwhales.com? Gotta read all about the Amazing Mold-A-Rama if you haven’t yet. And I didn’t run into Elvis, nor his ghost…but we did run into a group of Amish teens who were singing an a capella version of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.” (Those wacky Amish.)
I do remember you mentioning the Brookfield zoo. I was, however, drawing on my own memories of being a mere speck of a child engulfed in a red manatee-shaped outfit that the locals called a snowsuit. The fence posts at the zoo were also red and very tall, but they had piles of white around them, as if they had run off of the candycane poles leaving only the red part behind. This memory is intertwined with one many years later when I stood at a lion’s cage on a white hot summer’s day watching the king of beasts, when a near-by transitor radio announced that the King was dead.
We were seventeen that year, remember?
People are always mistaking me for being Amish!! I hate it when that happens.
Hi guys, can I play?
Thought I’d share a cake update with you. Sadly, it’s not Italian Cream…in its stead, a Sour Cream Pound Cake. It travels better (and we’re a travelin’ for the spectacular Labor Day holiday). I’ll be happy to slice you a piece and mail it. Notice I didn’t say “peace” because that would be a typo, and I.don’t.do.typos.
I am subject to periodic demarcation, you never know when it’s gonna hit.
Re: YOUR typos, well…I just figured you meant each and every one of them.
I’m hearing a LOT of Pavlovian conditioning between you two…not that you’re conditioning each other (this isn’t “that” kind of blog), but apparent repressed conditioning from days gone by…tornadoed roofs and Hershey Bars…warm buttered toast and the state of Illinois?
I think I heard bells ringing…want some Scooby Snacks?
I’m inviting some others to your party…hope it’s not an intrusion…and who knows if anyone else will show up?
(it’s little more than a gratuitous attempt to set a Pensieve record for comments…since I’m the reigning SnarkQueen, I might as well be the Comment Hoe, too (not a typo…imagine a “comment hoe” to be a tool used to help wade through all this linguistic verbosity) (was that redundant and repetitive?).
Who are you?
Hey Robin…of course you can play. It’s your home, after all. And maybe if we’re really nice to you you’ll give us a break on the rent?
Mmmm…do I smell cake again? Smells great. You can leave that cake here and take beef jerky or something else on your little holiday trip.
And are you sure you hear a singular bell’s (possessive) ringing? Hmm…I’m sure that was on porpoise since you don’t.do.typos.
Min, I mighta been 18 when the word came down that the King was dead. Yeah. I was. Does that make me the elder statesman of this little group? Until someone else hobbles up and enters the conversation, I mean.
If you want to avoid being mistaken for Amish, you might want to stop wearing coffee filters on your head when you go out. That sure helped me (though I wasn’t being mistaken for Amish so much as just “ish”).
And no, I don’t know what that means.
Uh oh…I think Min’s been getting into your liquor cabinet, Robin. She’s forgetting things again. Just what do you keep in there, anyway?
They call me Mr. Tibbs…!
What typo, Steve? And MIN in the liquor cabinet???
House of the vanishing typos! It’s really not fair that she can do that!
Steve, you are older, but not by much.
Ahem. Robin, where were you when you heard Elvis was dead?
I’m not going to lose the coffee filter, as I’ve finally found one that offsets my eyes…I may try shaving the beard though.
I’ll stop this car right now and you’ll get what’s comin’ to ya if you don’t fess up to your typo coverup, li’l missy.
You know darn well there was a typo in that post. You sure you want to stick to that Denial of Typocity? What do you think I’ll find if I dust for fingerprints around that “edit comment” button?
And…wait…is that a slice of cake? For me?
Who me (blink blink)…involved in a Typocity Cover-up? Perish the thought! NEVAH in a catrillion years.
Ah…yes, the day Elvis died. I was a mere 14 years old…getting ready to begin what would become a most memorable season called “high school”… I remember standing in our den–you know the one…the one with an orange, tan and white flame-stitched sofa, tv with a high-falootin’ corded remote (lol!)…and I had this original thought: “The King is Dead…”
…followed by “how could they call ANYONE ‘King’ who wore a white, caped, rhinestone-studded JUMPSUIT for goodness sake??”
…wise beyond my years…
That must be Min’s cake…I’m watching the clock for mine to get ready… Maybe it’s just a Twinkie in disguise ;).
Maybe we should bail before the guests get here. I wasn’t expecting company and I really don’t want to be seen in this old thing!
Robin, do you have something I can wear? Something in Royal blue with a few sequins and a little fringe?
Here ya go:
What’s mine is yours.
Except in this case, they just had this lovely outfit on loan to me…kinda like the diamonds at the Academy Awards….
I remember that dress. Can you do my hair like that?
Hey it’s awful quiet in here. Where are all the guests? Did I forget to mail the invitations? This feels like a premonition for my first book signing event. Whenever that happens.
And what are we gonna do with all this watered-down punch?
A few people peeked in, but nobody felt like staying…I should’ve warned you, all my parties are like this. I didn’t even get one person all the way through the first of my kids’ baby albums. I figured I could just put on “The Remains of the Day” and cry myself to sleep…after a small slab of cake.
I’m thinking I shouldn’t have included “Slides! We’ll be showing lots and lots of slides accompanied by real-time longwinded narration!” and “Bring your mad Twister skillz!” on the invitation.
Maybe I’ll go crash a wedding or something tomorrow. Gotta get my money’s worth out of this awesome rust-colored 3-piece polyester suit I bought at Goodwill.
And…how long do perms last? Can you un-perm your hair?
Tonight I’ll just enjoy a quiet evening watching Wings of Desire or The Science of Sleep or Serendipity.
Not that these movies have any particular significance. They’re the only ones on the shelf.
I think we can safely send the chef and the clowns and the magician home now. And the band. Well…maybe after one more number. I do wish they knew something other than “Hot for Teacher,” though…
The most interesting thing about the Science of Sleep was their use of language. The dialog was a multi-cultural crazy quilt of languages and dialects. I think I’m thinking of The Science of Sleep…maybe I’m thinking of SpidermanII.
you two need to get a ROOM….oh, you are in one – Robin’s!
We have to use Robin’s room, because all Steve has is a futon and in my place the feng shui is all off.
How are things in Karmyn-world?
Hey Min – Doing well – two more days until the Hubby gets home – so just hanging out at Robin’s – biding my time….its either that or do laundry.
Don’t you hate it when people say, “Did you get your laundry finished?”
I’ve been doing laundry all my life and I’ve never once gotten it finished. The process did come to a temporary standstill yesterday, though, when I pulled a capless Sharpie from the dryer. It was a sad, sad situation.
Don’t you hate it when people say, “Did you get your laundry done?”
I’ve been doing laundry all my life and I’ve never once gotten it done!
The process did come to a standstill yesterday, though, when I pulled a capless Sharpie from the dryer. It was a sad, sad situation.
Hey Karmyn! Glad you decided to stay for some cake :). Finishing laundry? I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about…it’s worse than rabbits at our house :/.
And…..Min….oh, my…feeling your pain (if that’s true). Years ago I dried a tube of LIPSTICK w/a load of lights (as in “light-colored clothes” not as in “spot” or “Christmas” or “night”). OF COURSE it was everything we wore all the time and we were in NO position to buy new stuff. A friend of mine felt sorry for me, gave me a tub of “Dap”–some kind of pink paste that I scrubbed with a toothbrush for HOURS into each stain…and then rewashed. Remarkably, a good bit of it came out…and even for the clothes it didn’t? At least they were semi-wearable. I played it “The Emperor’s New Clothes”…if I pretend not to notice, maybe no one else will (and if they did, I obviously really didn’t care).
(Actually, it’s not my futon. I’m just borrowing it.)
It was horrible. We just bought all new clothes for the school year. Fortunately they weren’t all in that load. Maybe speckles and smudges will be the trend this year.
Steve, if I had a futon, it would be a borrowed one as well. I just got to your birthday, so you are indeed QUITE a bit older than me. Not just a month or two, but several of them. Now I understand why you are so wise.
I draw the line at borrowed toothbrushes.
Wait a second, no I don’t! It just depends on WHOSE toothbrush it is.
Min…btw, WHO was responsible for the Sharpie in the dryer???
Sharpie in the dryer! ACK – that is bad…My worst was a ball point pen which BROKE while in the wash – and I didn’t see it until AFTER the dryer was done – and it left dried ink all over the inside of the dryer barrel. That was a nasty clean-up job.
Robin – next time you get lipstick or crayon – use WD-40 to get the stain out.
W4-DD?? Yeah, great, then you have a hugenormous grease stain to contend with.
If you just cut a couple of arm holes in a large plastic trash bag it can look pretty chic when worn belted. If you wash it with ink, it won’t stain. Don’t put it in the dryer though, I’ve never mastered unwadding molten fabric.
Hey guys…I’m outta here til Monday. Don’t tell anyone…I’d hate to come home to an empty house ;).
(p.s. I’ve left our family boa out of his cage for the weekend, though).
I’ll miss that cake…I mean…you…I’ll miss you!
I haven’t seen the family snake yet…but I did notice a pink feather boa under the dining room table. I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.
Something has to protect that nifty new pantry/cabinet…are you sure that feather boa is ferocious enough? That question isn’t really directed to anyone. I tend to get rhetorical when I procrastinate.
I don’t know about you, but I am generally afraid of all feather boas. And leis. Now kitchens…that’s another matter.
Yes, this is indeed an amazing pantry. And so very…red. I am falling in love with Robin’s Red Pantry. I’m sure it’s just a temporary crush and that I’ll swiftly shift my affections to the first marble countertop I see in someone else’s house. But today?
“Red Pantry, you have my heart.”
And from what are you procrastinating?
Oops. Missed that one. I must be a wee bit tired. So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.
The conga player. Willy Wonka played the congas on that Talking Heads Album!!
I’m learning so much today. I don’t know if I’ll remember any of it tomorrow, though. I sprayed (low fat) Pam in my ears to help the thoughts slide around better. (Writer’s block.). But some my brain slipped out instead.
If you plan to have the brains put back in, you should preserve them in milk, before taking them to the reinsertion clinic.
If you still have some of that Pam left, you could fry them up with a couple of eggs.
Why don’t write about the impact that the distribution of Sreaming Yellow Zonkers had on the economy of Lybia?
I wrote about the impact of SYZ on Libia in one of my previous blogs – I think it was the “Snacks and Economics” blog. But a cease and desist order from General Mills over something I said about Bugles and the impact of this snack-that-doubles-as-witch-fingernails on the cauldron industry in Romania killed that blog.
Of course, it’s likely that my original SYZ article was misunderstood since readers might have thought I meant Libya. But of course the whole point was that the distribution of SYZs in Libia led to the complete anihilation of that small African country. That’s why we don’t know much about it.
Did they really effect the cauldron industry? Isn’t the ‘Romanian Iron Works’ unionized?
Why are you having trouble chiseling away your block? Perhaps you are temporarily content and that would not be conducive to your writing style. Are you happy? Have you had a lovely evening?
Don’t worry, I’m certain that pleasantness of the evening will wear away and you’ll recapture the misery that all of us readers love to wallow around in.
I don’t know about the Romanian Iron Works. I rarely do any actual research for the factual articles I write.
And I have no shortage of emotional pain this weekend, thank you very much. I think I must have the Overwhelming Unhappiness of Collected Hollowness variation of writer’s block.
So the misery is still here. I just wrote about it in a post about not being able to write about anything.
Feel free to wallow.
I just returned from your post and I apologize. I had envisioned you out somewhere feeling breezes brush by you, carrying the delights and aromas of new excitements.
I forget that there are others who stay home on Friday nights too.
You are very brave to rip yourself open and allow the world to see and touch your inner workings.
I tend to encase myself in glass, so that no one is tempted to touch.
Bravery and stupidity are kissing cousins. I’m never quite sure which of the cousins is my muse in any given moment.
And no apologies are necessary. I happen to be a huge fan of gentle breezes and their accompanying delights. Maybe they’ll return next week. That would be nice.
And while I certainly understand the glass-encasement approach to self protection, it’s not necessary to David Blaine yourself to avoid touch. All you have to do is continue longing for impossible things. People stay away naturally.
Okay…um…no. I just wanted to use “David Blaine” as a verb.
So the real story is…if you can express the pain and heartache somewhat accurately and perhaps occasionally with lyricism, it tends to draw other heartbroken people to you. (Turns out there are a lot of us.)
There is, however, a firewall preventing touch in the virtual world…so as long as you don’t blog naked in the company of real life friends you’ll be fine.
There is an interesting paradox there, but I understand that the compulsion for self-expression overrides and sometimes mangles common sense. That’s as it should be.
You’ve never been touched in the virtual world?
I’ll bet you have.
Paradox is my real last name. And it’s not.
Touched in the virtual world? Certainly “touched” as in mentally unbalanced. Beyond that? Well…
[Sound of airbrakes, accordian door opening]
Gee…I think this is my stop. We’ll have to continue this conversation another time. Enjoyed it as always.
And for those of you lurking in the background of this comment thread? What are you still doing here? Don’t you have stuff to do? Laundry to “finish”? Soap operas to watch?
Sad Italian movie Saturday.
I need to put Kleenex on my shopping list.
What’s the movie of the day? Or is the reference to “Sad Italian movie Saturday” more about the day than a particular film?
And will you actually buy Kleenex brand tissues? Or Puffs? Or whatever’s on sale?
I’ve been busy writing another 8:20 post. Now it’s off to the first meal of the day…okay…the only meal of the day. I’m thinking I’ll go for a hamburger. With bacon and cheese. Not a cheap, fast-food burger, but a fresh one from Ted’s Montana Grill.
Either that or a deep-fried Twinkie. Wait…we don’t have those here in Healthy Colorado.
I just got my 8 minute and 20 second fix for the day. Can’t wait to see what dreams and nightmares are destroyed next. Brilliant concept the whole thing.
The movie was “The Son’s Room”.
Bacon cheese burger from Ted’s? Don’t let the waitress slap your face and try to get you to drink a V-8.
Fried Twinkie? That doesn’t sound right. (Insert any emoticon here…I’m too lazy to figure them out for myself).
I’ve heard of “The Son’s Room” but haven’t yet seen it. I’ll rent it along with a box of tissues. (I’ll probably buy the tissues outright…I’m not sure you can rent those.)
Ended up going to the mall with my 13-year-old son so he could buy a couple CDs (an old Yellowcard CD and the Oasis one with “Wonderwall”). He chose to eat in the food court. We had our usual delicacy there – Chick fil A pizza. No, it’s not really on Chick fil A’s menu. We just get cheese pizza from Sbarro and then customize it with chicken nuggets. (They stay on better if dipped in bbq sauce first.)
I’ll save my burger meal for tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll change my mind and to go P. F. Chang’s for double-fried noodles. Hmm…decisions, decisions…
Sorry, I’m late. I’ve been out. I’ll let your imagination go wild on that. (please, the wilder the better).
Dinner with the son sounds much more uplifting than the Son’s Room. Very good film…much pain with strains of Brian Eno.
I’m writing down the recipe for Chik-fil-a pizza for the next time I find myself dining at the food court (which happens all too often.)
Give me a “key word or phrase” for the imagined “wild night” and I’ll work it into an upcoming “8:20” post.
Yes, dinner with Scot was quite fun. He’s a smart kid. Funny, too.
And Brian Eno? Eno and I go way back to his Roxy Music days and the early solo projects like “Here Come the Warm Jets” and “Another Green World.” So he contributed a track to The Son’s Room? Cool.
When I’m ready for more pain (and when am I NOT?) I’ll rent it. Tonight, though, I’ll be watching the German film, The Lives of Others.
The Lives of Others was next on my list, but it was out, so It’ll have to wait.
The wild night out consisted of driving a van full of teenagers to the MarqE to see Balls of Fury. I did not watch the film, but instead I walked around and mingled with the Saturday night atmosphere. I tried to read a little, but my mind kept wandering back to the fact that some of the kids may never see each other again. Some, being graduates, were about to flake off and begin new lives on new planets. I was reading (or rather, carrying around) “Arrowsmith” by Sinclair Lewis. Maybe that will serve your purpose…maybe not.
I’d like to say I have a lovely labor day planned, but we have had nothing but thunderstorms all summer. You?
Didn’t get to The LIves of Others last night after all. Perhaps today sometime.
I’ve carried around lots of good books in my day, but “Arrowsmith” has not yet been one of them.
My labor day is likely to look like any other. Not much planned around here, either. I’ll take the thunderstorms, though. Great writing weather…
Do not watch The Lake House! But when you do, watch it alone. The ultimate chick-flick. I’ve now decided to sell all of my shares in Avery Office Products and put it into Procter and Gamble (Sales of Puffs must be skyrocketing!)
I don’t really care what kind of tissues I shed tears into or blow my nose on, as long as they aren’t those slimy ones with lotion that feel like they’ve already been used.
I love to write during thunderstorms too, but it gets to the point where the kids are going stir-crazy and there’s mold growing on everything, and even your ideas begin to mildew. So instead of writing, I watch uplifting films and read inspiring tales about the glories of being a medical researcher in the early part of the previous century.
When life gives me lemons, I like to seal them in a plastic bag and watch them decay.
Already saw The Lake House. (I’m not afraid to admit I go to chick flicks.) I saw it with a friend, though, not the person I was in love with. I can relate to the story in The Lake House far too well. The first part anyway, the part where they’re communicating across time and space…not the part where they finally get together. That is the only part of the movie that feels like science fiction to me.
(Don’t mind me…September is my least favorite month. In part because it used to be my most favorite month. It is, for me, the definition of “bittersweet” but with more bitter than sweet.)
I agree completely about the ending of The Lake House. The only joy in unrequited love is that it is unrequited.
Now I understand why the world ends in September.
…And for the good news…
I’ll be back in a little while, as soon as I can dig up some good news.
Or is the joy in unrequited love some strange, unsinkable hope that someday the object of that love will suddenly recognize the inarguable truth that you are indeed “worth everything,” drop “un-” from the word and leap into your arms?
(I didn’t actually realize the “September” connection in the “8:20” story-blog until you just noted it. Ah, the power of the subconscious.)
Here’s something good to brighten the day: Oreos Cakesters. Have you tried ’em yet?
I’ll run right out…
*Sigh*. The world is out of Cakesters. I searched high and low in the driving rain and there were none to be found.
We had a recent hurricane scare, so I imagine there was a run on all Nabisco products.
Much to my children’s delight, the video store did have a copy of the Lives of Others. My children are not huge foreign film aficionados, but as they put it, “Anything’s better than Eraserhead”.
y’all didn’t even notice I was gone, did ya?
I’m gonna be so…sooo sad if you take “this” to another room… It is …. interesting … to follow your… um…. conversation. I know you OH, so much bettah……..
Off to do a thousand loads of laundry (it’s what I get for showing off before I left :/).
Welcome back. I hope you had a great time and came back with lots of blogging material.
Of COURSE we noticed your absence, Robin Waffle.
(See “…and cake” in Min’s previous comment.)
I didn’t care that much for The Lake House.
My favorite Chick Flick is “While You Were Sleeping” (Sandra Bullock) followed by “Dance With Me” (Cheyenne) the last one because of Joan Plowright.
I love Joan Plowright! What was that silly Italian one she was in? It had Tracy Ullman (?) and The Klein in it. Actually, the film wasn’t Italian, but it was an Italian family.
I woulda come home with SOOOoooo much more blogging material if I had just gone skinny dippin’ by moonlight. My husband even offered to take pictures for my blog (now THAT’S pimpin’ a blog like nothing else!).
Six in the morning just wasn’t appealing. And it was too cold. And it was a lake and I was scared a snappin’ turtle might get me in the dark…or a snake…or a squid.
But mostly I just wanted to sleep and stay warm. So much for carpe dieming :/.
That being said, my cake was GONE by day two, and so were the three loaves of homemade sourdough bread.
In spite of the above, I have more stuff to blog than I’ll ever actually get to (y’all know how that works).
AND PAMELA…WELCOME PAMELA!! I’ve never seen “Dance with Me”, but I sure do like the title…Do I need to rent it?
I wish you had gotten to frolick au natural in the lake. It is a very fun and whimsical thing to do. The YMCA didn’t even allow swimsuits in the pools until around 1962. I understand animals do it all the time.
1) Are you tellin’ me you don’t have no stinkin’ need to shop for bathing suits?
2) Are you calling me an ANIMAL???
OR did you just want to make fun of nekkid pics?
(I swear to goodness, y’all make me lol so much, if I’m not mistaken, I just had a smilegasm!!)
I’d love some nekked pics to make fun of!!
Yes, Darling, you are an animal.
(Is it safe to come in yet? I’ve been standing outside the room waiting for the conversation to become a little less…um…nekkid before rejoining it.)
Smilegasm? GREAT word!
“Is it safe?” That’s a very Szellian thing to ask.
(I had to research that one…but now I can picture Sir Lawrence O. asking this question. I wonder…have we circled back to Yukon Cornelius and his dentistry skills with this reference?)
You could have just answered, “No. It’s not safe, it’s… very dangerous, be careful.”
Seems to fit.
“yes it’s safe. It’s very safe. It’s so safe you wouldn’t believe it.”
either one is appropriate.
Before you joined us, robin was discussing the finer aspects of “demise by snapping turtle”.
“Would it be swift and painless?” we pondered.
“Demise” was one of Snapping Turtle’s best tunes. It deserved to be more than a B-Side to that sellout teen summer anthem, “Let’s All Go Skinny Dipping.” Most music critics agree the “nekkid swimmin'” song (and the accompanying video directed by George Wendt) killed an otherwise promising band’s career. Well, that and their unimaginative followup, “We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Bathing Suits”.
Wow! I always thought that song was called “Them Eyes”. I agree that George Wendt shouldn’t have directed that video, at least, he shouldn’t have included the nude cameo. That man is always looking for more exposure. I agree with the critics…that was a bit too much. I always thought that last song WAS imaginative, but again, must have misheard the lyrics because I thought it was called “We don’t need no stinkin’ bandicoots”. (The Snapping Turtles were Australian weren’t they?) Some say that rivaled Tom Petty’s “Don’t want to live like a Deputy”, but I, myself, am partial to Petty and didn’t think the Snapping Turtles were destined for much more than Flonase commercials.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the two of you were totally mocking me.
S U R E L Y you wouldn’t resort to that, now, would you?
Nope. No mocking here. Just picking up a phrase or theme and riffing on it for a bit. Sort of like handing off solos during a jazz improvisation. Consider us your “house band.”
Besides, we like you too much to mock you.
I was mocking you.
So was Steve…he’s just in denial…or a reeeal nice liar…or both ;).
Mock away……it STILL entertains me!
I just missed the memo, that’s all.
But you’re right, I am a real nice liar. Or am I?
I dunno, Steve-O…you seem like the honest (albeit incredibly writerly prolific) type to me…you might just s t r e t c h the truth a little, I’m sure only when convenient ;).
Hee! I’m in S.C. Tee-hee!
Secured Confinment? Solvency Court? Smart Clothes? Suspicious Circumstances? Sexual Confusion?
Oh, you mean South Carolina. Or is Tee-hee short for TEnnEss[H]EE?
And Robin, I only stretch the truth if it doesn’t quite fit as-is.
All of the above…except Tennessee.
WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU????!!!!!!!!
(I know you’re not talking to me, Robin. But in case anyone is interested…I’m living in a dumpster behind King Soopers on Briargate Pkwy. and Union in Colorado Springs, stealing wireless Internet access from a nearby unsecured network creatively named Linksys and I am living solely on Oreo Cakesters pilfered from the Nabisco delivery truck and Gatorade I actually purchase with money I earn as a part time professional karaoke singer.)
I crossed a brdge and found myself in SC. heading East on hwy 17. Sign says 45 miles to Charleston. I’m stealing wi-fi from a Krystal Burger. I have to turn around though… i’ve got to be back in Texas by tomorrow. I too am living on Cakesters and Mountain Dew, but the car is full of empty Gatorade bottles. I’ve been in six states in three days! Which way to Colorado?
I’m not sure of the actual directions…but I think you go to New Mexico and then turn right.
Steve, I had suspected everything up to the professional karaoke singin’ gig… I was s.u.r.e. you were a professional pudding wrestler.
Min, is Violet going to school in SC??? In Charleston? Do you understand how close you are to GOD’S COUNTRY (aka Kiawah Island)????!!!
p.s. I think Steve just gave away his “real” gender…;)
Just what are you implying Robin? Hmm?
I didn’t make it to Charleston or Kiawah…I did take a turn around Hilton Head.
I didn’t bother heading for Colorado, I was told that particular dumpster is emptied on Mondays and I knew I’d never make it in time.
Poor Steve. He’s doomed you know.
stevarina, the fabuloso directions gave you away ;).
min, WHAT WERE YOU DOING????????????/
Are we playing ‘guess Steve’s gender’?
How many choices do we have?
I was just out running around and I thought I’d swing by SC and see what it was like. I’m impulsive. Don’t you ever do stuff like that?
Okay, I’ve been outed. I’m actually a woman. I drive a yellow VW Beetle (the new one) and put a fresh daisy in the bud vase every day before heading out to shop at Pottery Barn or to meet girlfriends at La Bistro Chocolat for a chat and a caramal macchiato and to flirt with the hot waiter who has a crush on me and I never shop at Victoria’s secret (except when they’re having a sale on those really comfortable panties) and if I get stopped for speeding I can usually flirt my way out of a ticket and when I’m driving from South Carolina to Colorado I don’t mind asking for directions along the way.
Are you happy now? I think I’ll go have a good cry.
Comfortable panties? What are they called? Are you sure you get them at Victoria’s Secret? When do they go on sale? Do they come in Hipster style?
Damnit! This is important!!!
Okay, you caught me. I’m not really a woman. I don’t have any idea if you can buy comfortable panties at Victoria’s Secret or when they might be on sale. I CAN tell you who won the Broncos/Bills game today or how to build a computer from scratch or where to find the best waitresses…er…I mean ribs in town and how to make a really delicious cold lemon souffle with raspberry sauce.
Hello to my favorite odd couple :). I’ve been slavin’ over a hot stove today, cookin’ dinner for a friend who had surgery last week….pork chops, gravy, smashed potatoes, green bean casserole…and this time, a CHOCOLATE pound cake (they daggum transport the best!). I soooo woulda loved to have the two of you for dinner just to see if we had anything to say.
LOLOLOL, did that make you laugh?
No, Min…I DON’T do things like that.
…s i g h…
hence, why I was sooo interesting in YOU doing it.
And Stephen, dear…you imitate a girl ever-so-well, my friend….’cept I’ve tried my durndest to flirt my way out of tickets…never worked yet :/.
Min, back to the VS’s thing…YES, they go on sale, but good luck! They have bins and bins of various and sundry choices, none of which are comfort panties. Then again, I don’t think they’re intended to stay on very long :/. That being said, my most favorite pair in my chest of drawers (snicker) IS a VS pair, but it was not out of no stinkin’ sale bin where a thousand leery men had “sifted” through them “for their girlfriend” (I got ’em free…with one of their coupons in the mail!). I actually intended to go back and buy some more of the same kind, but I hate going in there. Reminds me of all the things I’m NOT.
Steve, you can wake up now, I’m sure that little paragraph put you to sleep (or made you very glad you aren’t actually a girl). And IF you make your trip east to see your brother in the future, AND if you come by way of Tennessee, I will buy the ingredients for you to make the lemon souffle thingy…cause that sounded REEEAL fancy and I wanna see you put your money where your mouth is.
How many comments are we up to now? Me likey my own personal chat room :).
comment # 258
Robin, you like to torture me, don’t you? You know that the one thing that I like better than a nice comfortable pair of panties is nice comfort food! I’m becoming horribly large just from reading about all the stuff you cook (Stevo’s cakesters aren’t helping much either). It’s a good thing that the first thing I learned how to do on photoshop was to slenderize figures, so at least my readers don’t know my real size. If you know who Dale-the-whale is you’ll have a pretty good idea of what I really look like. Victoria’s secret locks the doors when they see me coming.
So Steve’s not really a girl…I guess we’re learning a lot about each other tonight, but who cares as long as the souffle is light and tasty. (Berry sauce!!!! I LOVE berries!!)
Yes, the souffle is indeed light and tasty. The perfect ending to a home-cooked southern meal. And that raspberry sauce? Hmm…delicious…just like a comfortable pair of panties. Um…wait…that didn’t come out quite right.
I think this is pushing the limits on a G-rated blogsite.
When are you going to Tennessee, Steve?
I thought the MPAA gave the site a PG-13 rating? I suppose we could edit a few comments and resubmit in hopes of getting a PG, perhaps. But G? Um…I don’t think Robin would want that, would you Robin?
I don’t yet know when I’m heading south. Next month maybe. I’m escaping for a month-long writing trip. Gotta finish a novel. I’m going to spend most of my time in North Carolina at my brother’s house, but I hear Tennessee is somewhere in that general vicinity.
Min, I think in the color of “R”, but I write (publicly) in the shade of “PG, PG-13ish). It’s our secret, k?
Steve, I’m ignoring your first comment (well, if Min’s # is right, it’s 259th), but you NEED to finish your novel. Then edit it (is an editor editing his own work like a physician healing himself or that whole “fool for an attorney thing?). Then sell it. Millions of ’em.
Then I’ll cyber-know a REAAL live author! Unless you fix the flippin’ souffle, then I’ll know one irl.
Min, wanna come for the celebratory dinner? 🙂
What? And hoist myself out of the Lazyboy? I might do it for you. I wish we could meet at Kiawah…at least I know where that is now…and I’ve now got credit at most of the truckstops along the route. I’ll see if I can find Tennessee on the map. I had a flat in Gatlinburg once. Is that near Tennessee?
Robin – You already know some REAAL live authors. But I’ll work on that novel. I’m thinking it’s going to be about these people who get sucked into a blog post and are held hostage there by a southern gal who makes sour cream pound cake and is a paradox of sweet and sassy. Or maybe I’ll write fiction instead.
Min – So how do you like that “hoist” feature for your Lazyboy? I thought about getting that as well, but couldn’t afford the Lazyboy in the first place so the hoist adapter would have been a bit useless. Do they have hoists to fit futons, too?
Who am I trying to kid? It was a lie. The whole thing was a lie. I don’t have a Lazyboy. I just rest in an old refrigerator box on the front porch (so when the coronary finally gets me…they won’t have to tear up the side of the house to get me out).
There, I lounge in relative comfort where I peck away at my novel…which is about a blog post that sucks people in where they are held hostage by a dominatrix named “Sweet and Sassy”…I feel a lawsuit coming on.
What? You lied to me? How could you, Min? I trusted you.
But your intuition is right on about that lawsuit. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer some time later today. If I can post his bail, I mean.
Sorry Steve. There isn’t really a novel either…just a broken dream and an empty bag of chips.
I never meant to lie to you. You’re a good man and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I had a man like you once…a good man. A guy who treated me right and called me “Princess”. He gave me a bracelet. I threw it back in his face and spit in his eye. I thought it was his way of calling me a floosy, but now I realize that he was just some big dopey jerk that adored me and didn’t know how to say it. That’s what I get for marrying a bottle of gin. I never could see men for who they are or what they really wanted. I had that guy…if I’d have only known it. If I could’ve just sobered up for an hour…or a minute…I’d have grabbed hold of him so hard you’d have had to pry me off him with a tire jack.
But I threw him away, like I throw away everyone and everything that tries to get me to care.
Walk away, Steve. Don’t look back and don’t be sorry. I lied to you once and I’d lie to you again. It ain’t my nature to be honest. I belong here…on a lonely barstool in a forgotten dive on the wrong side of town.
Thanks for sharing that excerpt from your novel. I think I can leave the lawyer in jail after all since yours is a different story than mine. Still, they both have their tragic charm.
I’m familiar with what it’s like to be lied to, so I’ll hang around if you don’t mind.
Me, a good man? Yeah. I am that. There are a few of us left in the world. But do you know how to find out if a man is good or not? You have to break him in half and look inside.
No you don’t. You can usually just look at a man, if they’re not all covered in mold, they’re probably still good. When in doubt, you have to sniff them.
I’m sure you’re a good man…but then…so is Charlie Brown.
Why do I feel like I’ve just stepped into film noir?
You’re thinking of leftovers. And while many men are like leftovers, you can’t always tell if they’re bad simply by checking for mold. There’s always that hidden threat of Salmonella.
And while it’s true many a football has been pulled away last minute by cruel Lucy’s, I still have more hair than Charlie Brown.
(I think I’ll start a band and call it “The Cruel Lucys”. We won’t have actual lyrics in our songs, though, we’ll just use that parent “wah wah” sound for vocals. What do you think?)
You could do old cover songs from the Royal Guardsmen!! You might even be able to get Peter Frampton for the lead singer. I think I saw him and Kevin Federline playing in a Wal-Mart parking lot trying to raise money for the Guatemalan banana famine victims (The squirrel monkeys have resorted to eating grapes). Terrible, it’s just terrible.
Yes, but what did they sing besides the “Snoopy vs. the Red Baron” song? Maybe we’ll add a few screamo versions of songs by The New Christy Minstrels. And if Frampton isn’t available, I’ll just call on Kenny Rogers. He should still remember all those Minstrels songs from way back before his facial transmogrification.
But it really is sad about the squirrel monkeys. BTW, why are there no chipmunk monkeys? That would make much more sense to me. And you could abbrev them chipmonkeys. Now that would be cool. Who names all these creatures anyway? Robin can have the opi naming job (and new, from our Spice line – “I’m Just Mad About Saffron,” “Don’t Be Such A Nutmeg,” and “Close the Window It’s Chili In Here,” and “She’ll Be Cumin ‘Round the Mountain”)…I want the monkey naming job.
Is that what happened to Kenny Rogers? I saw him on T.V. not long ago and wondered when, exactly, the body snatchers got hold of him.
I don’t want a naming job, because everything would be named Bartleby. Actually, is not that I don’t WANT a naming job…I just prefer not to.
I can see it now…
Bartleby Jones, starring Bartleby Ebson – In this version Jones lives in his office
Bartleby and James wine coolers – New tagline “You can drink three before your work as a scrivener begins to suffer!”
Bartleby Rubble – In episode 7 of The New Flintstones, Bartleby Rubble won’t leave Mr. Slate’s office and finally is dragged to the Tar Pits where he starves to death
Bartleby & Friends – Still a show for preschoolers, but the purple dinosaur’s theme song will have to change from “I love you…” to “I prefer not…”
Hey, I think you should take that job.
[Disclaimer: I had to do some research to remember Melville’s Bartleby. Keep in mind, I don’t have an English degree. Please don’t tell my publishers.]
I think maybe you should stick to naming monkeys…or tears…or coffee cup sizes.
Sorry for the obscure reference. I guess I should name things Billy Budd.
Yeah, like a Melville novella that wasn’t published until after his death is gonna make it any easier on my pop culture overstuffed brain. Let’s just call everything “Moby” and make everyone in the general populous feel literarily smarter for a moment.
[I have to riff on this just once…I have to…it’s a disease, I know, but there’s one Moby thought just achin’ to get out…]
Doing this would give new life to that Michael McDonald/James Ingram hit, “Yah Moby There.” A song about spotting a while whale would sure make more sense than the original.
I thought Billy Budd was required reading for all high school students…don’t tell me…you didn’t go to high school either.
Additionally, I thought that Michael McDonald was required listening in every dentist’s office (personally, I’d rather listen to Fran Drescher). I lucked out, my dentist likes the Eagles, although I now associate the tune of “Life in the Fast Lane” with severe root canal spasms.
The rest of the blogging world has no idea what they’re missing. These little gems are MUCH better than Britney’s performance at the MTV awards last night. Apparently, she IS an MTV Video Hoe :/ (bless-her-heart).
First snort in this riff? Squirrel monkeys eating grapes. Second guffaw? My OPI color line, the spiciest colors EVAH!
Y’all so don’t “need” me but every now and then I have to remind you who’s the boss.
Last giggle (or maybe just proof that Min DOES, in fact, live in a box–PERFERRING FRAN DRESCHER OVER MICHAEL McDONALD??? That’s choosing William Hung over Taylor Hicks (who really IS MM transmorgrified).
Oh oh oh, I forgot! What’s a “while whale”??
And the “Snoopy vs. the Red Baron Song”??…oh, my…what a GREAT memory from my youth! Thank you for that, it was when everything was “good” and as it should’ve been :/ :).
I think he meant a wily whale…like the coyote. Or maybe he meant a while wedding, which I think was a Billy Idol song.
Robin, you should drop in more often (and bring cake).
A while whale is a whale that sorta just hangs out in a story until he’s needed, then gets top billing because…well…he’s a whale. I thought you both knew that.
Yeah, Robin. C’mon in. There’s room here on the couch. Um…it IS your couch after all.
So what are we watchin’ tonight, Robin? Briney Spears? I always knew she was a salty dog.
Oh, but before you have a sit, could you get that cake. Like Min said. And…um…maybe some Rodney Strong Pinot Noir, too?
Did I mention I have fresh chocolate pound this time? It is sooooooo dang DELICIOUS!
And Steve, really, truly, I sooo appreciate when you TRY to correct me. Alas, you forget (actually, I’m sure you don’t, but…) I have the power of Typepad “edit”…it is my new bbff :).
DID I TELL YOU THAT’S MY FAVORITE PINOT???
You know what’s so disappointing about your choice of Pinot? It’s not really Russian. I always wondered why his name wasn’t Rodney Strongski.
I just picked that one because it sounded like a backwoods wrassler’s name. I really don’t know wine at all. Glad I landed on a controversial Russian/Redneck bottle.
It was either that or Hangtime Pinot Noir (naming a vineyard for an action performed by sweaty basketball players somehow just seems wrong).
I DO know my designer soft drinks, though. Ever had Green River soda? Mmm…like melted lime Jello.
Green River soda? Sounds murky…a little like Mountain Dew. Okay, I guess I’ll have to haul myself (all 425 pounds of me) out of this crate and down to the market for the latest “Steve recommends…”. What are you trying to do to me? Does this canvas kwansit hut make me look fat?
Ah, the Green River is regional so you might not be able to find it. I had to order mine via some expensive soda webstore. The soda itself wasn’t expensive…but the shipping? Yeah. Bottles filled with liquid tend to be sorta heavy.
And if you’re 425 pounds, your skill with Photoshop is beyond compare. Say…do you do Photoshop rhinoplasty?
(And though I always spelled it “quonset” – I am familiar with this word. The college I grew up near and eventually attended had a few of these corrugated metal buildings on campus before they were bulldozed to make way for dorms or parking spaces – one was used for the gymnasium. The low curve of the ceiling made playing basketball less of an art form and more of an exercise in Euclidean geometry. Or something like that.)
I think the military calls it a “quonset” hut, but I don’t think they’ve ever worn one. In the Roly Poly section of Target it is spell Kwansit after Shelby Kwansit the designer who maintains that the canvas may not breath as well as your average mu-mu (did I spell that right?), but that it is at least water resistant.
Do you like my photoshopping? It is the only kind of shopping that I really enjoy. The slimming filter works to a degree, but I like to just draw out the vertical a little bit and run the magic eraser twice around the hips. I usually, put on a long line foundation (undergarment)before I have my picture snapped…the results are amazing.
If I’m in a hurry, I just enlarge everything else in the photo, so by scale, I look smaller.
Shelby Kwansit is one of my favorite designers. I love her Plastic Tarp Socks and just about everything in her Dual Purpose Pregnancy/Beer Gut Cellophoane Stomach Wraps line (or as she calls it the “Roly Poly Celly Belly line”).
And yes, your photoshopping is brilliant. I’m still looking for that “Apply Changes to Real Life” button though. Have you found it?
(BTW, Min…I haven’t forgotten my promise to somehow incorporate your “carrying around of Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis” moment into one of my 8:20 posts. It’s the next one in the queue, but I haven’t had time yet to write it.)
Steve, you are not a ‘made to order’ writer, you do beautifully with no cues from me. Someday I’d like to tell you ‘why’ I think 8:20 is so F***ing brilliant. I can’t really tell you, because I don’t cuss and it sounds so much more than just ‘brilliant’ with the F***ing in front of it. You have sold your soul to the devil and have gotten out of the contract…In Bergman’s game of chess you have broken the stalemate and taken the king. The chocolate factory is yours Steve, you can move into it right away.
I would buy you a cup of coffee for the so ironic concept alone, except the coffee house is gone now.
Oh…and if I’d found the ‘apply to reality’ button on any program, do you think I’d settle for slimming down a few pounds?
Thank you for kind words. If I swore I’d tell you that they’re really too f***ing* much, but on a day like today…ESPECIALLY today…I can use some encouragement, curse words and all. It was exactly three years ago today that I took a fateful and irrevocable step toward someone I shouldn’t have and three years ago yesterday that I honestly believed for the first time I could write fiction. Yeah, the two events are intricately connected…thus the pain-and-ache-infused nature of my writing.
I’ll stop there.
And about the “made to order” bit…I like the challenge of weaving something from an outside source into my writing. It keeps me sharp. (Ask Robin about this – she gave me quite a list of words to fit into a story back on the old blog.)
*No, it’s not what you think. The missing letters are “arm”. I know it doesn’t make sense. But I thought it was mildly amusing.
I’m not an idle flatterer and I have not yet addressed the subjects of style or content in your work, (nothing personal, but it’s nothing personal…yet)although it is always interesting to understand the motivations of a writer and you do have a healthy (or perhaps, unhealthy) share of that. I am still too busy being overwhelmed by your cunning in providing a solution to the artist’s (any artist’s) dilemma established by the Love/Hate relationship he has with his work. I realize this makes no sense to you, because you would have to see it through my eyes, but I think I would only have to ask you two questions to get you to understand why I marvel at what you have created.
I cannot ask them here. Although you don’t seem to fear displaying your innerself, there are fragile parts of you that you still shield from your audience.
Without knowing where those boundaries lie, I respect the fact that they are there.
P.S. “too Farming much” doesn’t make much sense, but “Farming brilliant” is perfectly acceptable.
Hmm…now you have me curious. Two questions and I will understand? Well, feel free to email them to me. I’m a kind-hearted soul and if I don’t feel comfortable answering them I’ll say so in a friendly voice. My li’l ol’ email address is right there on the blog.
Are there no peacocks in Egypt?
Perhaps my brain is especially muddy from the day’s surreal rain of distractions and blocked thoughts, but I find myself stumped by your question. (Though it seems, of course, to be rhetorical.) I’m sure it is something I should figure out right away, but it ain’t happenin’.
Is there a Cliff’s Notes booklet for this chapter of the Nice,Thrice story?
That’s not one of the questions…I was just wondering.
The answer is “yes.” There are peacocks in Egypt. They were first introduced to Egypt from Phoenicia as early as 3000 years ago. At least that’s what the guys were sayin’ around the water cooler this morning.
Ah…that explains it then.
Y’all are SOOOooo just lookin’ for an excuse to leave me. Dirtwads.
Min, CAN YOU NOT TELL STEVE WILL TELL YOU ANYTHING? Now, you’ve dragged me into the whole sordid mess…WHAT TWO questions?
I bet y’all have been emailing up a storm while I was sleeping.
(it’s the insomnia that’s speaking right now…kinda 😉 )
Robin, Poor thing. I’m sorry you’re an insomniac! (Is that when you can’t help but steal stuff?) You may end up doing a little time, but I think they’ll put you in a program that will help.
So you think Steve is lying about the peacocks?
Um…hellooooo…I am standing right here, Min. Helloooo? Hmm…maybe that invisibility spell worked after all. This ought to make the day all kinds of fun…
Robin, I know insomnia is a disease and you can’t help it…but can I have the rest of my name back? I woke up this morning at four and most of it was gone. Not that there’s anything wrong with a three-letter name, but now it just looks like an abbreviation for Suite.
And if I sort of nod off during the day it’s because I’m really tired. I’ve got that darned kleptomania again and it keeps stealing my sleep.
I thought Ste was a female saint. That’s why I didn’t know you were there, Ste. Half of you is gone and you were standing sideways.
Sorry about the kleptomania. Keep the room dark and drink some Teddy bear tea “Celestial Seasonings, Sleepy-time herb tea”. It’ll cure sticky-fingers and lull you to sleep.
I don’t think robin took part of your name (unless she’s marrying you in small doses). It probably just got stuck in your calendar again. Check under May 8th.
Hmm…well, I checked May 8th and it wasn’t there. But February 18th seemed a little thicker than usual and look what I found! My first name in all its regal glory.
Now that I have my name, can you see me? I was enjoying the idea of being able to wander among the crowd unnoticed. Wait…I already do that.
Guess there’s no advantage to real inivisibility except maybe sneaking into movies without having to pay or repeatedly waking people up in the middle of the night so they think they have insomnia.
Loved your post over at the MamaDrama, btw, Min. In fact, it was so inspiring I’m gonna start counting waffle houses now, too. (How do they do it, anyway? I mean withstand inclement weather. You’d think a good rain would turn those waffle structures to mush.)
Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.
I’m not much of an expert on Waffles…but I know who is!
I’m in the process of booting out the kids and getting a little of my personal freedom back. I wonder which calendar page I’ll find that on. Thanks for the compliment. The writing is not what you would call Pulitzer material, but it’s fun and it’s what the editor wants. I would never want to be one to tick-off “Evil Dwight” the editor…even though he doesn’t seem to mind getting my dander up from time to time.
Robin, have you got any input on the waffle house thing? How long would such a dwelling hold up?
You have an evil editor named Dwight? That’s such a good name for an evil editor. I don’t know anyone real with the name Dwight. Just that guy on The Office.
I am quite familiar with the sort of writing that’s not fit to be called Pulitzer material (See also: everything I’ve ever written), but good writing that brings a smile is award-winning enough for me.
(I know…that sounded awful cheesy. Like some Hallmark card in the new “I Wanna Be a Writer but My Husband Just Laughs At Me So I Could Use Some Encouragement From Someone Else” line.)
Where is Waffle, anyway? Maybe she’s found a cure for her insomnia and is returning all the stuff she stole.
Dwight called me into the Chronicle office to do some pro-bono writng (what other kind is there?)with him. His computer wasn’t behaving, so we went into a conference room where he set me up on a terminal. Once I got started, he left for some reason and I found myself so tempted to print-up a little sign that said “Dwight’s Work Space” and tape it on the conference room door. Sadly I didn’t do it. It would have been a fun way to end my career at the paper.
The committee (meaning me) has decided to present you with the Cheesy Hallmark Award, you wanted it, you earned it, you deserve it. It has nothing to do with your writing though…I just thought it might look good on your mantle…I mean your…whatever you have that you pile your awards on.
I’m sure that Waffle made a stop at the church for a few teaspoons of salvation. Petty theft tends to bring out the prayer in people.
I would like to thank the committee for the Cheesy Hallmark Award. It will join my other awards, including a third-place ribbon from a third-grade checkers tournament (there’s a certain beautiful checkerboard symmetry in getting third place in third grade), a first-place certificate from a fifth-grade spelling bee (no symmetry there, but I do feel like I should have won on a harder word than “photograph”…that just seems cheap to me and steals some of the glory I could have known had I been asked to spell crepuscule), and a button I found in a dumpster that says “#1 MOM” (I just flip it upside-down and pretend “WOW 1#” is a poorly-translated Japanese celebration of my brilliance as a human being).
I don’t have a mantle. I do have a dusty cardboard box.
Can you still get salvation in small doses? Are indulgences making a comeback? I miss those days. Now that salvation is free, what’s the point of bribing the clergy? Sorta takes the commerce out of Christianity, and where’s the fun in that?
I guess that’s why they came up with Christian publishing…
Don’t be silly…there’s always gonna be Christmas for commerce.
I think you can still acquire the larger sized Salvation product…but I doubt you have room on your cardboard box. It’s like this: Absolution is available in limited quanties (and you have to have coupons…an “Our Father” or a couple of “Hail Mary’s”, humility comes only in small doses, you can get blessings by the ‘case’, Faith in large ‘Units’, and rebirth is ‘Gross’.
Of course, with some denominations, you have to already be a member, so be prepared to show your badge.
I have lots of badges in another dusty shoe box. Perfect attendance badges; Bible memory badges; Missions badges…and I think I still maintain “membership” in at least a half dozen churches. I don’t think denominational polygamy is legal, but I don’t want to cancel any of them because you never know which is The Real Church and I’d hate to be standing in line at St. Peter’s gate only to discover it was the Lutherans who had it right all along, and there I just went and transferred my membership to a non-denominational church that welcomes former Lutherans but doesn’t offer spiritual credit for having read most of Garrison Keillor’s books or allow us to bring Real Wine to communion services.
I’m not very good with all things theological, having been spiritually monogamous all my life, I closed-mindedly have no knowledge of any faiths other than my own. I may have picked the wrong one, in which case your chances of entering Heaven are probably much better than my own which could be equivalent to a llama passing through a coffee stirer. Which brings up the question, did I choose my faith or did it choose me? I realize that robin is very spiritually open-minded, but we probably shouldn’t be discussing such a controversial topic in the comments section of her August 21st post.
You want to talk about National Security?
I’m not really here, but keep goin’…I’d love to hear the two of you talk Godsmack.
(when I re-apparate, I’ll have a bit more to say about ALL y’all’ve been carrying on about…)
Uh-oh! She keeps coming in here and shaking her finger at us. I think she doesn’t like our Godwaffle comments!
If you ask me, I think Robin secretly wishes she could spend all day here, lounging by the ocean, talking about Godwaffles and llamas and coffee stirrers and raising her finger only to catch the attention of the bartender for another round of drinks.
I’ll have a glass of wine, if that’s okay. But since I don’t know anything about Jesus’ favorite beverage, do either of you have any recommendations? (I mean besides Stretch Armstrong Pinot Noir or whatever that was.)
Disregarding all National Security issues…
I’ve been in the church since the womb, but while I never felt my faith was forced on me (or that I chose it merely because my parents did), it has changed over the years. I’d like to think it’s matured, and I suppose that’s the right word, but this has more to do with screwing up and finding grace than discovering the Secret to Living the Perfect Life of Faith.
And I’m sure this is one of those “watch out for lightning” comments (might want to stop wading in the ocean right about now), but of late I’ve also felt like I’m “in the church, but not ‘of’ it”. That’s a discussion for another time, and we could watch more than a few cycles of high and low tides before even scratching the surface of those thoughts.
Gee, I’ve been talking too much. My throat is suddenly dry…hey, Robin? Wave your finger again…I think the bartender forgot us…
Oh my. I think I may have dozed off during that last soliloquy. My apologies to the pastor.
Actually, I snuck off to read the “Barbie Murders” and began pondering whether or not it might become the next episode of CSI.
Is robin here yet? Didn’t she say she was coming back? Did I miss her? It must be quite late in her village by now. I wonder if she’s watching Craig Ferguson.
Fine. Sleep during my sermons. It won’t hurt my feelings. I sleep during them, too. I was trying to spice it up a bit, though, with all the drinking and the talking about screwing up. At least I didn’t preach on Leviticus.
Do you think CSI: Special Barbie Victims Unit has a shot at cracking the Top 10? Maybe I should write another episode.
I saw Robin earlier. She was a few posts up, writing some words about time spent with her sister as a lead-in to the real point of the post – that I won the guess-the-tiger-thingy contest. I don’t know what I’ve won yet, but I’m hoping it’s a cake.
I’m sure robin said she was coming back. You’re lucky for winning. I notice that you win a lot of robin’s contests, that cardboard box must be overrun with stuff.
Hurricane Humberto has completely messed up my schedule today. All of my meetings and appointments were cancelled because of the expectation of inclement weather. “That must be nice!” I hear you cry, but “nay, nay”. There are always raptors waiting in the wings ready to pounce on any open spaces that develop in that 8:30 AM to 6:30 PM block on the agenda. With strains of Hurricane Rita in the background, Humberto decided not to visit us during the night, but instead ventured to grace our neighbors in Louisiana with a bit of deja-vu instead. So I’m left with a schedule full of undesiralbles and don’t even have a storm to set the proper mood.
Even hurricanes stand me up.
My apologies, I thought it was time for some of my inherent whininess to rear its lovely grimace.
Steve, I had breakfast this morning with our mutual friend Wendy Kirkwood. I know you are much better acquanited with her than I am, but I discovered that she and I have a frightening amount in common. (Not just because “ellipses” happen to be our favorite form of expression).
I am very happy that she is going to die.
I haven’t known Wendy for long, but I have enjoyed reading her blog since 2017.
And I am beginning to think there are two kinds of people in this world…those who live a life of ellipses…and everyone else…
I have indeed won lots of Robin’s contests…is two a lot? I have some of that Spanish moss stuff, just like you do. And a jar of sand from Kiawah. If I get enough jars of sand, I’m going to build my own beach. It’s only going to be big enough for a few lounge chairs, though. A place to go when hurricanes change their minds and head to neighboring states. Or a place to go just because it’s a good place to go.
Maybe I’ll read a book there. Any recommendations?
Helllllo, my dear little Wafflenistas. And you thought I wasn’t coming back…or was asleep at the wheel…or was off getting drunk by the ocean or something.
I’ll have you know, I’m no lush, thankyewverymuch!
Anyhoo, the past several days I’ve been hither and yon, at the same time, pulled like taffy in at least two directions at any given moment. While attending to home and family, I’ve neglected blog and my imaginary friends (which are probably entirely too real to me!).
So let’s recap:
– peacocks are/aren’t in Egypt (my vote is yes, since they’re the National bird of India, they’re within walking distance…or flying, if they board a jet).
– insomnomania? kleptsomnia? is no longer a viable defense for sleep-stealing…I’ve been busted :/.
– in addition to trying to win EVERY contest of mine, Steve is winning cheesy Hallmark awards to pile on his stack of lifetime achievements, apparently the burning of which will keep him warm all winter.
– Evil Dwight has entered the conversation, and let me say here, I’m always amused that his initials are “E.D.”…could be a problem.
– min is a spiritual monogamist and steveo is a spiritual poligamist, and perhaps both will allow for wine served during communion. Veddy interesting when a bit of realism creeps into the surreal, and I get to see naked body parts. Thing is, you flash and run, and where’s the fun in that? Me? I gave up judgment and condemnation when I came to the realization I’m capable of just about anything. I cast no stones. It gets REEEAL hard when I hear about a bunch of sorry rednecks in WV behaving worse than a pack of wolves…cause I sure would like to chuck a few rocks upside their heads :/.
Waffle Houses…waffle houses… They are an enigma. They’re indestructible in spite of their mobile-home appearance. Perhaps it’s the healthy coating of years’ old grease…or the layer of nicotine somehow acting as preservative…it’s debatable.
I do know this, their extra crispy smothered hashbrowns are a delicacy rivaling truffles and caviar…
(Say, um Robin…can you throw an “n” there at the end of “know” in my previous comment using your Super Powers of Typepad Editing? The missing letter is causing me to feel just a little out of sorts. I’m sure you understand…)
Mmm…extra crispy hash browns. To quote a friend, “me likey.”
(I’m sure you’ve already seen it…but a Cockney accent ‘as slipped into your previous comment there next to Evil Dwight. For anyone reading this later in the day, there USED to be a missing letter there, but Robin’s already fixed it.)
Your recap is quite helpful, Robin. But when exactly will we evah reach “enough said???”?
Wait a second…I missed some stuff.
Min…don’t let a little hurricane rain on your parade. Or, in this case, not rain. Humberto’s a man…he just wanted to control things. He knew you needed a good storm. He’s withholding. I’m sure Rita will be more generous.
And who the heck is Wendy? I’M the Queen of the Ellipses!! I dare anyone to use more than me!! (Exclamation points, too!!!)
Steve, as an editor, you must be haunted by the hanging typo…it’s worse than a hanging chad in a national election. However, in this case, there was nothing to worry about–I couldn’t fine your cause for concern ;).
Agggggggggghhhhh! You keep sneaking in!
1) What typo?
2) Any by anyone else wandering into the conversation, do you mean Min? We lost everyone else at “Hello”.
3) Apparently, I have a few sticky letters on my keyboard…h’s…and a few others…:/.
It is soo unfair that she can edit at will!
Robin,you summed everything up so nice and neatly that now Steve and I have nothing more to talk about.
Unless it’s about…how WRONG you are!! Some people are exhibitionists, others are not. I know many vegetarians who find it difficult not to nibble a sausage with their waffle…but could never bring themselves to devour the entire link. I will simply order the waffles from now on, and leave the gutsy sausage to those who can handle it.
I have no comment about Dwight’s condition because that would be equivalent to ordering an entire slab of bacon.
“No lush” you say, ‘tasting’ just a tad more nectar from the fruits of Tiger Valley.
As for those WV rednecks…yeah, I’m with you there.
Okay, your not wrong about much, but as far as glimpsing naked body parts…well, I’ll show you mine if you…
(Gotta love those ellipses!)
P.S. I have a parenthetical phrase up in comment 230something that never got closed. Could you close it? I’m tired of talking in asides.
I seems my keyboard has a problem with homonyms. You just can’t get good equipment these days.
So nice to have you back, Robin. Now where’s Min gone?
Wendy’s a friend from 8:20. You should go meet her. I hear she’s sorta like Min. But that’s just a guess.
Did you already fix the two newest typos? ‘Cause I’m running out of antacids. About The Hanging Chads – I thought they were a vigilante gang that used to run with Jesse James.
And by anyone else wandering into the conversation I meant Homeland Security or maybe a slightly lost freelance proofreader. You never know.
Sticky letters? Wasn’t that a Stones’ album? You should run that keyboard through the dishwasher. Top shelf only. Light wash cycle. Spot remover optional. Or maybe tat won’t elp ery muc ater all.
Oh, hi Min. Didn’t see you there. I had to cover my ears and sing “la, la, la” and look away when Robin said “Naked Body Parts” so I must have missed you slipping into the room. Did you bring waffles for everyone? Or bacon? Maple glazed bacon, perhaps?
I went off to check on my own blog and look what I come back to! Y’all have completely muddled-up the comments with your Instant Messaging! I’m really confused.
Which one of you had the mid-morning scramble with a side of grits?
“Sticky Letters”!! Ha! I have to confess, I unzipped that fly a time or two!
Robin, as for your not so very subtle implications as to the nature of my interactions with Steve, (Sorry Steve, you weren’t even part of that conversation), I just want to make it clear that with Steve and I our relationship is purely physical. All sex and no substance. That’s the way we like it and nothing’s going to change.
MIN, YOU IGNORANT SLUT!!
(lawsy, I miss vintage SNL)
Robin U. Moron!
Min’s right. Purely physical.
So Min, continuing our conversation…you were saying something about the relationship between “L’Âge de raison” and “L’Être et le néant”? And on that other theme we were discussing, I would contend that Sartre’s bold attacks on one’s illusions of self aren’t at odds with a true desire to understand the mystery of God and what it means to wrestle with that mystery (in contrast to a blind embrace of specific dogma) and instead could be considered oblique affirmations of the relational aspect of such theological wrestling.
1) That’s R.U.M. to you ;).
2) Show off!
(back to cleaning…had to come up to see if y’all had anything to say, and yep, I wasn’t disappointed 🙂 ).
Oh…and could you hand me the remote? I don’t want to watch Oprah anymore.
Stephen on the Sartre thread I was just trying to express my misunderstanding of Satre’s implications, having read the two works in inverse order. Indeed, I did have a knee jerk reaction to some of his ideas that I thought he was establishing as absolutes. It wasn’t until I got hold of Being and Nothingness that I understood the step by step process that Sartre went through in forming his (what I took to be) shockingly revolutionary ideas. That it wasn’t that he wasn’t showing leniency to those whose understandings of their faiths were more traditional and acceptable, but simply paving a small road for others to be publicly introspective.
I wasn’t trying to say that it was wrong. I hope you don’t see me as staunchly conservative on this.
Robin, now what were you talking about? Cleaning?
Yes, yes. That’s exactly what I was saying! That in Being and Nothingness Sartre, the temple himself, was cleansing his ideas of such dogmas in an effort to make space for replacement of old as well as unconsidered thoughts on the nature of being.
Steve, Oprah’s talking to Nelson Mandela again. Can we watch Springer instead?
Springer is on? Why didn’t you say so earlier. Is it one of the “less than 10 teeth per guest” episodes? I hope it’s the one where those wives are caught cheating on their husbands but don’t know that the women they’ve been cheating on their husbands with are actually their husbands in drag. In that one, they have a knock-down, drag-out fight right there on the stage! Oh, and I love the episode where the castaways try unsuccessfully to get off the island.
I’ll go pop some popcorn. You want artifical butter flavoring with that?
Absolutely! Heavy on the yellow oil! A little sprinkle of parmesan too…please. I love it when the women start tearing their clothing off and the undergarments don’t match. Not because I have a thing about women in mismatched underwear, but the Springer audience seems to. A woman’s place in our society is never so well defined as in the coordination of her underwear.
So this is where old politicians go to die.
“A woman’s place in our society is never so well defined as in the coordination of her underwear.”
That’s both brilliant and hilarious. Can I use it in one of my novels if I give you credit somewhere on the acknowledgments page?
Parmesan it is, then. With plenty of yellow oil. (I think I have some 10W30 Quaker State in the trunk of my Neon. Will that work?)
I think they must use 40 wt oil at the theatres but it wouldn’t hurt me to give-up a couple of calories, so okay.
You may have the underwear line as long as you do not acknowledge me or associate me with it in any way. People would make assumptions and I’m not prepared to buy out Victoria’s Secret just to prove that I’m not a hypocrite. Unless that comfy panty sale is going on.
About that show where they’re all trying to get off the island in that one episode? I must be confused and thinking of a different show, because on the one that came to my mind, EVERY episode was about the castaways trying unsuccessfully to get off the island.
Now I’m really looking forward to my movie tonight with the boys. That 40wt oil is gonna be super yummy.
It really isn’t fair that guys don’t have underwear matching challenges. Well, some of Jerry’s guests do, I suppose.
And that island show? I think you’re confusing Gilligian’s Island with The View. Or maybe I’m thinking of Dubya’s cabinet members…
Are you going to the movies tonight?
Let me guess…hmmm…Invasion? Superbad? That other Bourne movie? Mr. Bean? Balls of Fury?
The choices are overwhelming!
I think I’ll watch a rental. I have three movies that I know nothing about:
1. Heavenly Creatures
2. Harvie Krumpet
3. Capturing the Friedmans
Any input? I never know what’s in my queue, because I chose the (cheapest) option of having my movies selected by the ‘Society of Cultural Ignorance’which means my films are always a surprise, but it only costs me six dollars per month as long as I sign the disclaimer.
Pick one for me.
If I’d asked you yesterday, you could have added “The Green Butchers” to the list which is a sort of Danish version of “Eating Raoul”…except without Buck Henry, of course.
Well, though I haven’t seen it, I’ve heard good things about the Friedmans – so if you want a documentary about a Jewish family, that might be fun. I don’t know the Krumpet (it’s a short film, i think), but I am a big fan of Heavenly Creatures. Peter Jackson did this long before he delved into Middle Earth, but there is an air of fantasy to it as well and it features one of my favorite actresses – Ms. Kate Winslet – before Titanic.
Off to 3:10 to Yuma for me. I like Christian Bale’s work…we’ll see how he handles a six-shooter.
(Where to start, where to start….thinking…thinking…)
Remember in grade school when the teacher would hold ends of a long jump rope and turn it while students lined up to take their turn? You’d watch the rhythm of the twirl, and intuitively (or maybe after much practice), know right when to run in and begin jumping. At first, you might misjudge the timing, temporarily becoming entangled in the rope, but when all was well, you’d get it right, and then on a good day, your friends would join you, and sometimes you’d have half a dozen or more jumping in unison.
When the heck do I jump in with the two of you?! I don’t know nothin’ about stinkin’ French existentialism! I think I’m the college freshman in class with a couple of doctoral candidates…but I have a reeeal sweet personality and I make good snacks, so y’all let me play.
Really, truly, it’s an honor…a privilege…”something else” to watch the two of y’all at work (a dual compliment/back-handed compliment, and I really mean it both ways).
And then, to top it off, you riff for hours about W-D-40 and greasy popcorn and movies I’ve never heard of and Springervision and coordinating drag queen underwear and I swear to goodness, I am so tangled in that jump rope the teachers are gonna be unraveling me for hours while y’all play another round of dueling banjos and I just listen and smile with a vacant expression on my face.
I love it when blogging is educational.
Robin–It was movie night. What did you see?
Don’t worry about what Steve and I are talking about. We just like to listen to ourselves type. If you don’t know anything about French Existential philosophy, than feel free to jump in and change the subject to Thor Heyerdahl’s pre Kon-Tiki days on Fatu-Hiva…or..even better, pose a new challenge, such as, “What would you do for a Klondike Bar?”
You’re actually the person turning the jumprope, you know. Both ends. At the same time. As well as jumping in from time to time.
Who’s the one with the talent in this scenario?
For the record, I don’t really know anything about French existentialism but I do know how to do research on a computer and how to fake my way to sounding reasonably intelligent.
At least I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…
I forget who said that…was it Descartes or the Little Engine that Could? I always get those two mixed up.
Ooh..ooh…[raises hand]..pick me…pick me!
Here’s what I would do for a Klondike Bar: I would diagram all of Eugene Ionesco’s “The Bald Soprano” then perform an interpretive dance based on this absurdist play while juggling three naked mole rats and one fully-clothed mole rat.
make it juggling 8 rhinoceroses and one little pig and I’ll buy you an entire crate of Klondikes. I do that everyday on one ankle. Ionesco and I go way back.
How was the movie?
oops. How silly. I only juggle 7 rhinos and a pig.
How about five rhinos, a pig, a steering wheel and a pad of Post-It notes shaped like a bare foot?
The movie was quite good. Christian Bale and Russell Crowe were excellent and the script was smart. It was just a bit predictable in a classic western sort of way (shootout at OK Corral-style), but very well done.
I enjoyed my movie too, although it was quite disturbing. I’ve seen that look in my daughter’s eye too often to take it lightly. Tomorrow I’m removing all bricks from the premises. (Guess which movie I watched).
I’m going to bed now because tomorrow is trash day and I want to get out early to watch all the neighbors come out and avoid looking at each other. I’m placing bets on which ones accidentally make eye contact and have to perform the obligatory wave.
I’m guessing you watched…um…let’s see, bricks, disturbing…was it Pink Floyd’s The Wall? Krazy Kat: The Movie?
No? Heavenly Creatures, then. Yeah…it does have that halo of creepy floating around it’s semi-sweet, diabolical head. The Mario Lanza as Saint George bit is particularly disturbing.
[Insert clever segue here]
Let us know how the trash day neighbor-watch goes.
It didn’t go at all well. Mr. Cochran spotted me and said, “mornin'”.
I was forced to smile.
Drat and bummer.
Starting the day with a smile is just so depressing.
I always stay in my basement until everyone upstairs has left for work to reduce the chance of an accidental forced morning smile. Of course, sometimes Sammy the Siamese cat is waiting by the front door and does something very un-catlike in an attempt to elicit a smile. (At least I think his actions are un-catlike…is it normal for a cat to say “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!”
For a Klondike bar I would juggle six M&Ms (one each of the original colors), four cotton balls, three feathers, two Q-tips and a flaming fire baton…because I’m a lightweight who likes to live on the edge (and frankly, the thought of being impaled by a rhino horn freaks me out, I’m allergic to keratin).
What did I see last night? Hmmm, a tigereye butterfly tattoo right above a lady’s derrière, accordion pleated paper, acorns and pumpkins, scuppernongs…the usual.
Gotta deal with an auto repair emergency…I’ll be back :/.
I don’t know about cats. Most of them were transported here from other planets to study human behavior. They have a certain number of Skinnerian tests that they are scheduled to perform on humans each day to monitor their resposes. A few cats are communicator agents and have specially honed antennae in their tails. Sammy sounds like one of these (my own cat, Toonces is working as a double agent and she reveals these things to me). Observe whether or not Sammy carries his tail upward…these are the cats that send the test results to the mothership. They are essential to the Earthling Annihilation Unit and must be destroyed.
If you suspect Sammy may be one of these it will be your resposibility to eliminate him. The only other option is to gain his trust.
Inform me of your decision and I’ll see to it that you recieve the correct packet (Black capsule or Catnip mouse toy).
Catnip mouse toy.
And how is Toonces? Is he still driving?
Toonces is no longer insurable. Too many cars, too many cliffs.
You have cliffs in Texas? And insurance? Wow, Robin is right. This IS educational.
Any suggestions for another 8:20 post? Not that I have time to write one right now (or anything else besides the occasional nice/thrice comment), but my brain is feeling non-creative these days.
(A military helicopter just flew over and rattled the windows of my little office. I was really hoping it was the first wave of an alien invasion.)
How about a criminal scenario? Prison?
A circus…I love the circus.
Tour bus? Or a gambler in Reno.
A Unibomber or terrorist
Head of a Chinese toy manufacturing plant caught up in scandal?
How about that guy that spends days and days setting up the dominoes for those domino thing-o-ramas (or a perpetual motion “mousetrap” display)?
Claustrophobic support group making a break through?
homeless dude, wandering around being homeless, maybe finding a lottery ticket or something (Wait, that might be too ‘My name is Earl’.
Set of a T.V. soap opera?
A day at the wienerdog races?
Little Herbie’s barmitzvah?
Watermelons rotting in a field because there was too much rain that year…or too little demand for organics since most fruits were now hydroponic and genetically engineered.
A martian businessman anxious to return home to his wife after having an on-road affair. Regrets, regrets, regrets. (If earth is going to go, Mars has to go too).
See anything tempting there? I’ve got plenty of ideas…I’m just a horrible writer.
You do indeed have plenty of ideas. Good ones. (I will use some of them, I think.) But though I’ve only read bits and pieces of your writing, I’m inclined to disagree with your “horrible” writing self-analysis. And even though you calligraph your writing under the non-fiction banner over at Mama’s place, there is much evidence there (and here at Nice/Thrice, too) that your skill at crafting story (both fiction and non) is likely much greater than your self-esteem is willing or able to admit.
That’s just a guess, of course. But as a card-carrying member of the “my writing is crap no matter what nice things people say to me” club, I am authorized to make such an analysis.
I’m glad you haven’t read any of my other “pen and paper”, off-line writing.
I do enjoy jotting down an occasional sing-songy sonnet, but primarily I pen whimsical tales of self-mutilation and castration. I play with the language to the point of absurdity and most of it comes out so esoteric that I don’t even understand what I’m talking about.
Some things are just best left unwritten.
In 8:20 the potential for new ideas is limitless, indeed you could choose from anyone’s life whether it be adventurous or mundane…It doesn’t matter. You have your readers sitting on edge anxious to know who will be the next to die. You are excellent at weaving the fibers so tightly and choosing the right combination of words to develop entire lifetimes in a matter of minutes. (Naturally, I don’t suspect you write any of your vignettes in eight minutes), but to be able to condense such intensity of emotion and complexity of situation into the ‘unreal’ and solitary eight minutes in which they exist to us is more than remarkable (and we’re ‘showing’ not ‘telling’ here…to put it back into elemenatary Creative Writing 101 terms).
None of that, however, is why I find 8:20 so exciting.
Give me a flippin’ break!!
Both of you.
Rolling my eyes so far in the back of my head, they might just fall out…of the back of my head.
“Horrible writer”?? “My writing is crap”??
Y’ALL ARE SO FULL OF CRAP IF YOUR EYES WERE NOT BROWN ALREADY, THEY’D BE BROWN BY NOW!
Reading you here, there, wherever you write (including a lovely bathroom wall soliloquy or a sonnet carved into Blue Bonnet) is a feast for the reader!! I’m the luckiest person on planet earth to watch the two of you dance with one another.
Seriously, you BOTH have got what “it” takes! Give it up…quitchur excuses…YOU CAN MAKE MONEY DOING THIS (btw, Min, what IS your day job??? STRAIGHT FRIGGIN’ ANSWER, PLEASE!).
Your summary of Stephen’s 8:20 series is spot on…perfectly summarized.
Of course, you had to end with a cliffhanger, sorta (what would your ending be called? It’s not a cliffhanger, but I wanna know why you find it exciting, and you’re dying to tell, but SPP will find a way to engage you, and y’all will hippity hop down bunny trails, and you’ll probably skirt the issue.)
That was for the ongoing parenthetical comment thread you’ve left dripping in Thriceville.
THAT shut y’all up???
…or did you elope and not invite me as your witness?
or Min, are you off counting Waffle Houses again?
or Steve, did the alien cat zap you?
Robin, you don’t have to wrestle with words do you? Phrases pour out of you like fish eggs. I want to be you when I grow up!
I told you, Steve and I have no long term plans. We’ve just been having sex and making sandwiches. We were craving Reubens but didn’t have any Swiss…or rye…or kraut. No corned-beef either, so we settled for bologna.
I hid under the futon after reading the words about my words because I didn’t want the ego monster to find me and steal my low self-esteem.
But then Min said something about sex or sandwiches. And who doesn’t like sandwiches?
I’m thinking maybe a fluffernutter next. Do you have any marshmallow fluff? I prefer creamy peanut butter, and if it’s a brand new jar I just HAVE to steal a spoon’s worth off the top first.
I have never had a Fluffernutter, because peanut butter is dangerous deadly stuff. Will cashew butter do? It’s not as fun to dive into, because it’s so oily that the crater closes up (like silly putty). I loved breaking the surface of peanut butter when I made PBJH for the kids.
That is definitely one of the files in my “cheap thrills” folder.
I think cashew butter should work just fine. Is it any good? I mean, I love cashews, but how does it taste as a spreadable?
Say, you never did answer Waffle’s question about your real life job. I’m guessing it’s not working in a peanut-processing plant.
So why is bologna pronounced “baloney”? I must prefer “bah-log-nyea” anyway…
Me? I’m a crunchy peanut butter girl and it HAS to be Jif (because I’m a choosy mother, not to be confused with choosy mutha, an entirely different thing). But, like you, Stevolini, I like to swirl a KNIFE into a new jar to break the surface…mmmmm, soooo satisfying!
Min, hmmmm, phrases pour out of me like fish eggs? LIKE THAT ONE??? Even more fun than pudding wrestling is word wrestling because then I’m not so sticky after.
Well, sometimes that isn’t true…which sounds dreadful, but it isn’t because we are talking peanutcashew butter here, right?
Interesting to think about, while y’all were writing about PB&Js, I was making a very late lunch for my youngest, a SMOOTH PB&blackberryJ sammich. His soccer team lost 6-1 and he had the biggest heel blister I’ve ever seen…it was almost bigger than his foot. I missed the game :/…guess he didn’t have his lucky charm…
1) WAIT, ALL THREE OF US like to break the nutbutter surface. JINX!
2) Steve, it’s rude to talk while I’m talking, clearly, I was writing a much longer comment than you were, so I should’ve gotten to go first. How wude!
3) My real life job is the OPI Sommelier…cause after naming all those colors such sensually appealing names, everyone needs wine!
not that anyone asked what my real life job is……
I am a Material Control Specialist, but do occasional roadside surgery (there’s an obscure reference for you)in the off season.
Do you remember when they came out with peautbutter singles that were individually wrapped like those American cheese things? Do those still exist?
Since this is the first day of National Singles Week (It truly is) I want to stock up on as many different kinds of singles as I can find. Cheese singles, puddingskin singles…
Min, for you: http://www.pbslices.com/index.html
And I’m uber curious…just what kind of material do you handle? Sounds interesting… Can we see pictures of you in a hazmat suit???
I work for LesterCorp on the 7 1/2 floor of the Mertin Flemmer building. They aren’t those kinds of materials, although I did work as a HazMat specialist many years ago. Saved the whole city of Burbank by throwing kitty litter on a foul smelling substance. I thought about making a career of it, but there were so many other kinds of materials in the world that needed controlling!
Thanks for the link.
Robin, let’s hear one of your OPI names…from the new “Whines and Wines” nail polish collection. I’m looking for something in a pinkish red. Oh, it’s not for me to wear (I stopped wearing nail polish weeks ago). It’s for…um…writing disturbing messages on mirrors in gas station bathrooms.
And Min, about that roadside surgery, are you referring to Tom Waits and Iggy Pop in Jim Jarmusch’s “Coffee and Cigarettes: III”? (If so, I must give credit to Google rather than my own memories.)
I’m not so sure about the peanut butter singles idea…it just seems like the sort of product I’d rather entrust to a materials control specialist.
And is it really National Singles Week? How is that different from any other week?
Min, just how is John Malkovich these days?
Was this your first kitty litter save, or did you happen to be at the Chapel Hills Mall Carmike Theaters a few years ago when someone behind the snack counter had the brilliant idea to pour a couple bags of the scented gray and blue granules on the floor to reduce the likelihood of accidents related to a recent artificial butter oil spill? (True story. And maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but I heard more than a few moviegoers hacking up hairballs during Patch Adams.)
Okay I’m not a Material Controls Specialist…but I would be if Kato Kaelin hadn’t been in line in front of me.
You googled “roadside surgery”? I’m amazed they even had that link. What can google not find?
Robin, I’ve seen only a few of your color choices, but your writing is very colorful so I know you’re very good at your fantasy job.
I don’t know anything about National Singles week except that it starts now and it makes me feel very special. Every year my married friends send me their condolences. I wonder if there’s a National Marrieds Week.
And Steve, why are you always bashing Patch? I liked that film…at least more than ‘Ishtar’.
I thought Ishtar was pure brilliance. Of course, that’s assuming the goal was to make Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty into buffoons while simultaneously immortalizing the movie’s title as an adjective meaning “disaster.” (As in: The actual sinking of the Titanic was an Ishtar, whereas the movie Titanic was a giant success.)
What can’t Google find? Well…the romantic answer would be “love,” of course. But I’m putting my money on Howard Hughes.
I know exactly where Howard Hughes is. He is buried here in Houston. One of my friends has a vial of his blood in her freezer because she was working ER the night they brought his body in.
Google is amazing did you ever type in “Steve needs” to find out what you need? I did that once but I already forgot what I needed. Whatever it was, I hope I got some.
Mmmmm, Earl Grey!
Ha! Here’s what I got:
Stephen needs to dump kristen because she reallydoesn’t like him
Stephen needs to improve his punctuation and use of tenses
Stephen Needs a Reality Check Every now and then
I suggest you get rid of Kristen immediately…I don’t understand why you’ve kept her around for so long. Do you think the third statement is referring to the second one?
I need to dump Kristen? If I could find her, I would, but I’ve checked everywhere and she will not have been here;
Did you Google min needs? Here’s what I got…
“Min needs to get some Shout wipes for her filthy Lewinsky dress…”
“Min needs to blow things up…”
but most of all,
“Min needs your help, ASAP!”
I wonder what Robin needs…
“Robin needs help going downhill.”
“A normal-sized adult robin needs about 40 calories a day…” (Is Waffle a normal-sized robin?)
“Robin needs a spanking.” (no comment)
“Robin needs a hug…”
That’s what I found when I Googled “Robin needs”.
I don’t think she needs help going downhill, but she’s pretty much a normal sized robin, so I guess we’ll have to limit her calorie intake a bit.
I have no doubt that she needs both a spanking and a hug (don’t we all!)
As for me, I’ve been wondering what to do about that Lewinsky dress for some time now. Shout wipes you say?
Blowing things up is good therapy…I do need to blow things up.
And as far as needing your help ASAP…sure why not? How soon can you get here?
Well, if I start walking now…let me see…it’s mostly downhill, so that helps…um…I’m guessing it will take a few weeks (I’m padding the time a bit to allow for a meal or two along the way). Does that work? And just what sort of ASAP help does Min need? (Google didn’t elaborate.)
I need somebody to get the raccoons out of the attic, I’ve got a jar of anchovy stuffed olives that I can’t get open and I need to know if this mole looks like melanoma.
Well, I can help you with the raccoons from here…just leave a note with directions to Robin’s house in the attic, and be sure to mention the delicious pet food as well as the photo op raccoons get when they visit. All racooons are secretly vain, so the chance to get their mugs on a blog will have ’em out of there in no time.
Oh, and here’s an answer for your second problem, too: Why do you have anchovy stuffed olives? Give the jar to the raccoons.
Can’t answer the third one long distance. Unless the mole you’re referring to is the kind that burrows underground…and if so, just send a snapshot of him and I’ll play along with the animal kingdom Rorschach test.
Robin, I’m putting the raccoons on a Greyhound to Atlanta. Can you get them the rest of the way from there? They’ll be hungry when they get there, please don’t feed them crackers. They like to dunk their food in water and wring it out with their paws. Crackers just don’t hold up well for that.
One of them will have a jar of olives in their backpack…that’s for you.
I guess the mole was just a little drop of steak sauce that dripped onto my knee, cause when I took a shower it washed off. It probably wasn’t cancerous, but may have contained some carcinogens so I’m glad I had it removed.
You just never know with steak sauce.
Hey kiddos, sorry it’s been a while. I had a date with a Christian comedienne last night and today I’ve been sick all day. One has nothing to do with the other.
Lemme catch up to y’all a bit…
Steve? So you’re needing a recommendation from my OPI “Whines and Wines” collection? You might try “Que Syrah, Syrah” (very pinkish red, ideal for whatever may be, may be…); or perhaps “Mama! I NEED TO GO Merlot” (mostly for mothers of young toddlers, it’s not in the pinkish red family at all…it’s more of a pee green, although fully knowing in advance Stephen will undoubtedly feel the need to correct me, that’s way more accurate than “pea”); you might be inclined towards “I’m Bordeauxed out of my Mind”, a lovely reddish pink for when you have nothing better to do; there’s also “Cab or Neigh” (for those considering alternative public transportation, primarily in large cities where Hansom cabs and taxis are available…it is a lovely dark brownish, reddish shade). That’s a start, I’m sure you’ll find something that coordinates well with dingy bathroom walls.
Hmmm, Min owns a dress? A Lewinsky dress?! If ever I needed an interrobang, it’s now! At least Min doesn’t need cigars…that would’ve just been wrong (unless she needed one to light the fuse to blow things up).
Steve, I guess you’re in good shape and don’t need help walking downhill to Texas. Google didn’t mention it.
40 calories a day…I eat that many just LOOKING at a bag of chips! Geez… And, although my blog is red, my breasts aren’t, so I think you might’ve been a bit misguided in the google search. A spanking and a hug? yeah, probably….
Min…glad your “little problem” went down the drain…I was beginning to worry. Irregular borders are cause for great concern.
It’s so nice to have you back, Robin. I mean, who else can get away with writing “pee green” in a post? But…um…green? What do you feed your children? Blue raspberry popsicles?
Love the OPI names, though. You’re hired.
Steve, it matters not that you’re an editor…I will ALWAYS win in Thriceville.
(but thank you for helping me to sound less blond than I might on my own…I owe ya 😉 ).
Robin, mjd says “hi!” I think this is what I left melissa’s blog to get away from!
s u r e l y that’s not gonna start… Molly’s a sweetie–she’s not starting a “hi” revolution! Just letting us know she stopped in:).
In that case “Hi mjd!”
Can I play, too?
I think I’m going to be sick.
Too many exclamation marks for you? Not enough angst?
Maybe it was that steak sauce. Or did you catch something from Robin?
All right…let’s get back to what’s really important: which circle of hell are you feelin’ right now? I’m having a hard time deciding between circle two and circle three, but since I can hear the Cakesters calling out my name I’m leaning toward three.
I never leave the eighth circle. I migrate between Bolgias 2 and 6. Not the greatest of environments, but hey, it’s home.
Hmm…excrement or lead-lined robes…tough call there. Both sound ever so wonderful and welcoming.
I guess I have a ways to go to get to the eighth circle. Know any short cuts?
I watched Princess Bride last night.
just to hear the priest say “maywidge.”
Hey Pamela, go to google search and type in ‘google elmew fudd’and push ‘I feel lucky’. It’ll translate the google search page into Elmer Fudd. You can do ‘google klingon’ too.
Hey, it works for pig latin, too.
…and Swedish chef.
The lead robes seem so heavy today and the excrement so deep. Robin, did you give me a bug or something? I missed the news, did anyone hear anything about the gravitational pull being exceptionally strong today? The leaves are all hitting the ground with resounding thuds and the birds have been slower at getting up to cruising altitude. I think I’ll just lay down on the floor of the classroom and wait for tomorrow.
A stronger gravity today? I think Sir Isaac Newton would roll over in his grave if he heard you posing such an outlandish theory…that is, if the additional pull of gravity let up enough so he could actually roll.
All the clouds here are lower than usual (not quite low enough for my head to be in them, though) and most of the people are shorter (as evidenced by ill-fitting clothes). I think that lends support to your gravity theory.
Ah, the floor of the classroom? Is this a clue to what you do? Let me guess…are you…um…a street vendor?
Yes I am. I sell philosophies in packages of 3 for $ 5.00. This affords me just enough money to take a class on my lunch hour on Mondays and Wednesdays. As a street vendor I’m required to keep up with the lastest innovations in the profession. Today’s topic: Kiosk or Canopy? the Changing Trends of the Millenium. Big test next week.
3 for $5? That’s a pretty good price, depending on the sort of philosophies you’re selling, I mean. I usually pay four bucks each out here in Colorado. (Of course I always get mine with a side of fries, so that may be the difference.)
How’s the business going? Have you found a good location for your cart? Who is your leading competition?
I always wondered what those philosophy majors did with their degrees.
The problem is not with the other philosophy majors, we have a tolerence and understanding about the corners we inhabit. It’s the food vendors that kill my business. I can almost see it in the customers’ eyes as they fondle that fiver, “Do I want to spend this on a Kant and a Hegel…or do I really want a Long Beach Eggroll?” The eggroll usually wins out. Some guy from Philadelphia tried to wheel his soft pretzel cart on the South side of my intersection last week…the guy with the windshield cleaning monopoly took care of him real fast! It’s a dogma eat dogma world.
(I was all ready with that “dogma” bit myself, but you wove it in just perfectly. Nicely played. 10 bonus points for you.)
Oh, and good luck on that upcoming test. I dropped Kiosk when I was in college so I can’t offer much in the way of study help. I went to the first couple of classes, but it just seemed so temporary and pointless, like knock-off Crocks and cell phone accessories and colorful knitted hand warmers and remote-controlled plastic helicopters.
I think some of the Kiosk manufacturing moguls are hoping that the kiosk will one day replace the cubicle as a space saver for corporate industry giants. Aint gonna happen. Those old gray walls are passing the baton to Less Nessman style masking tape lines on the floor. 9-11 caused a lot of things to change.
Masking tape is a brilliant tool when used correctly. Using it to create an actual mask is less than satisfying, however. (And on a completely unrelated note, never mention the words “masking” and “tape” in the same sentence if you ever find yourself in a conversation with either of my sons around Halloween season. Thanks.)
Personally, I’m buying stock in the company that created that Invisible Fence device for pet owners. I just got an email stating it’s a “hot buy” because they’re developing a similar device for the workplace that will render cubicles AND masking tape obsolete. The shock collars are supposed to be available in dozens of designer styles and colors. I’m half-thinking of rejoining the regular workforce just so I can wear one. (Something in a blue to match my eyes.)
Are you a street vendor too?
Yes. I sell broken dreams. Well, they’re actually irregulars. I buy them direct from the manufacturer at a deep discount and then I break them myself. Each is broken by hand to justify the “Rare! Collectible! One-of-a-Kind!” stickers (and the huge mark-up). I made a ton of money when the American Idol folks stopped by Denver last year. I always do pretty well at writers conferences, too.
(clap clap) “Dogma eat dogma world” (me likey)
And are knock-off Crocks shoes or a small kitchen appliance? (Crocs or Crocks? one letter, BIG difference)
Speaking of masking tape, how does it compare to duck tape (NOT a typo, Steve…hold that trigger finger)?
Knock-off Crocks are knock-offs of Crocks which in turn are knock-offs of Crocs. It was not an error. I just assumed everyone knew about Crocks. Yes, the knock-offs are knocking-off each other these days. You can even get a Fedni knock-off of a Fedni knock-off of a Fendi purse if you know where to shop.
And I know of duck tape. But isn’t it Duck tape (as in a brand name)?
I think he’s got you robin, but I think Steve loses points for that whole load of crock. I could care less about knock-offs, it’s getting knocked-up that I worry about. (Okay…that’s totally unrealistic).
(Yeah, the Crock bit was a load of crock. But not a regular load of crock, a knock-off load of crock.)
It’s easy to avoid getting knock-offs, by the way. Always buy from a reputable source like Sachs or Bloomingdeals.
What’s that? Those aren’t real stores?
Crap. I don’t suppose this Huggo Bass suit is the real thing either.
I think the same rule applies to avoiding getting knocked up, though. Always buy from a reputable source.
NO NO NO, he does not “got me”!!! I was NOT referring to Duck brand products (although their site is boasting $500 for Duck tape duct tape Halloween costumes…perhaps we should tell Steve-Os sons about that…
I was referring to duck tape…you know, the stuff that holds their feathers on when they’re otherwise nekkid after molting season. Masking tape doesn’t do well under water.
Steve has a suit made of diapers??? Gross!
The only way I’d better be getting knocked up these days is if someone takes a two-by-four upside my head…(as long as it’s padded with masking, Duck or duck tape–to cushion the blow).
I came back to see where the duct tape was sticking… ?
I see everyone is quacked up
A brief pause for comment identification.
THIS IS COMMENT # 424.
W o w, Min…you’re welcome.
What a lovely, symmetrical number…too bad I had to ruin that with this comment!
(Pamela, you aren’t kiddin’ 🙂 ).
I need to know the difference between MST and CST? I have this strange sense of foreboding.
I wonder where we’ll all be twelve years from now…
I plan to be getting very, very drunk.
MST stands for Mostly Something Terrible and CST stands for Completely Something Terrible. So your sense of foreboding is probably right on target. (BTW, I’m trying to write another 8:20 post but paying work keeps stealing my time.)
Same here. I was at the shop til nearly eleven last night and came in early this morning. Having a child at an out of State college is going to seriously effect my party habits. Okay, my party habits haven’t changed, but it is disrupting my television viewing.
Hmm…”the shop”. More clues about your Real Life Job?
Are you a whip-wielding supervisor for a sweat shop that makes knock-offs of designer shoelaces?
(I never was very good at 20 questions.)
Knock it off with the knock-offs.
Great Balls of Fury!! Christopher Walken is running for President.
No way. Really? Christopher Walken? President of….what…exactly?
I don’t know how to do links in this program.
I thought it was a joke. But if he won…the state…of the…union addresses…would be…entertaining…at the very least.
I really need to steal some time today to write or I may just implode. Thanks for celebrating the negative 12th anniversary of the end of the world with your comment yesterday. I suppose I should have gone drinking last night in honor of the impending end of civilization.
BTW, what’s it feel like to be drunk? Is it like taking two Sudafed instead of one?
I have never taken more than one Sudafed…that one was when I was seventeen (almost eight years ago). I still haven’t recovered from that! Come to think of it, I think that was probably the last time that I wasn’t drunk too. I don’t need an excuse like ‘the end of the world’, I celebrate everytime my car odometer ends with a zero. Not good when you’re on the road all day like I am.
I don’t think Christopher Walken is really going to run…that’s what SNOPES says, but he might surprise us.
Whoooaa, Nellie, I read these comments as they came in on email, but geez, it’s so much better when I actually visit Thriceville.
1) I TOTALLY missed the 12-year negative anniversary of 8:20. Crap. I could’ve used the raison d’celebrate. I wondered where that came from, Min. BIG D.U.H. (Then again, I’ve been called “Robin U. Moron” before).
2) Min, I thought you were just being punny w/the “Walken is running” comment. IT’S A REAL WEBSITE???!!! Hmmm. Oh…my… As far as links in TypePad comments–P.I.T.A.! WT swears there’s an easy way, I have to code it if I link…google html link and you’ll find out how (wasted key strokes writing that, wasn’t it?).
3) Stephen, just don’t take two Sudafed(s?) with a shot of tequila…
Robin…oh shoot…I’ll be back in a minute.
Min…you didn’t just take Sudafed with a shot of tequila, did you??
8:20 didn’t hit you early did it?????!!!!
tell me you’re okay!
Sorry, it was just small explosion in the research lab. Potassium permanganate and glycerin together in a sealed container…bad idea.
Anyway, don’t worry about the 8:20 anniversary, because you still have eleven more chances. Today is “Talk like a Pirate Day” if you’re looking for an excuse to get drunk. Don’t tell Steve, he’s still in bed because he ignored your advice about the Sudafed. I’ve told him a million times that red pills should only be taken with really dark liquors (bourbon, brandy or a heavy rum). If he gets drunk again tonight, we’ll never get another installment of 8:40. (Ive added an extra 20 seconds for last minute primping).
Here’s what really happened last night. The lights flickered and I thought for a moment that maybe I was off with that 8:20 thing by 12 years and I’d died and gone to…well…this is where I got confused because everything seemed sorta the same as before and that would suggest more of a “hell” than a “heaven” and I’m reasonably certain I’m current with my “Anti-Hell” Insurance premiums and as I pondered this conundrum my head started to hurt and I wondered if maybe I was getting a cold or if I should start drinking to forget the impending end of the world and it’s possible in all this madness I might have chased a couple Sudafed with some tequila.
Do you see dead people?
Come to think of it…yes, I do see dead people. I see Sigmund Freud on Tuesdays (we have a standing lunch meeting); Elvis on Fridays (he’d be more popular with the karaoke crowd if he would sing something other than “Louie, Louie” but does he listen to me? No); Goliath (of “David and…” fame) every third Saturday (he’s on my volleyball team); and Abe Vigoda two weekends every winter (we go ice fishing in Minnesota).
Wait, is Abe Vigoda dead yet?
I’m not sure Abe Vigoda was ever really alive. The last time I saw Abe Vigoda on ice was in the movie “North” when they put him on that chunk of ice and let him float away to die. I guess that’s what comes of ice fishing. I suppose we’ll never know if he’s dead for sure (I understand he did all his own stunts).
Sounds like maybe you should be seeing Freud a little more often, because I know you don’t go to the Brookfield zoo every Friday.
Oh, the lunch meeting with Siggy isn’t a professional appointment. We usually argue about his whole “cocaine as cure-all” theories or talk about the different levels of awareness in the unconscious mind or laugh about the whole “ego, super-ego and id” trinity.
But you’re right, I don’t go to Brookfield Zoo every Friday. Maybe you haven’t heard…Elvis doesn’t live there anymore. He lives in Monument Colorado in the kitchen of the Village Inn. (He’s subs as a chef when the regular guy needs to slip outside for a smoke.)
Dr. Freud has been helping me with my sub-un-nonconscious mind. He says my dreams about Poultry halfway houses have a direct correlation to my blogging and the different trends phases and stresses that my Internet interactions are going through. The rehab that I dream about is primarily concerned with the struggles of chickens who are mentally challenged or or lost due to physical or mental illness and (in my dream) I act as a sort of sponsor trying to encourage the birds to commit and stick to the 14-step program (It takes a few extra steps for chickens than for humans). He was a bit concerned that recently a Robin has featured dominantly in the picture and I (in my dream) literally ‘moved-in’ to the roost in order to study it more closely. This is not an easy task as there is this one hen that is constantly hovering around. I find myself trying to encourage this bird to ‘get with the program’ and often wake my self up calling out “Step hen!! Step hen!!”
It is a very haunting, reoccuring dream.
THIS is how you dream about me??? Sheesh!
Did I mention that you aren’t wearing any clothes…?
That’s funny…I’ve had that very same dream.
Except in addition to the hovering hen and the naked Robin, there’s a rooster named Hugh who DOES wear clothes and wanders the henhouse spouting faux fowl wisdom in an effort to convince the chickens (and himself) he is not one of them, but is instead, a homo sapien with a career dream of someday becoming a lexiconic aesthetician.
As this addendum to the dream you described continues, a new character wanders into the picture – a chicken psychologist who once was known as Max (she originally chose her name from the right side of a volume knob but then after a season of radical simplification, spun the knob counterclockwise to come up with the name by which she is known today). The dream gets a little feathery right about here, but I think what happens is the naked Robin introduces the two new characters by saying, “Hugh…Min” and in that moment, the rooster’s dream of flying the metaphorical coop is crushed by the ironic realization that he’s only a rooster, upon which realization he suddenly has no clue what metaphor or irony are and instead just wanders aimlessly making clucking sounds and pecking at the ground.
I’m not sure what happens next because this was the dream season cliffhanger. Dr. Freud says this is unusual because cliffhanger dreams usually occur in the late spring. He gave me some time-release Sudafed and said that should fix things.
Then he said something about my mother and left.
Stephen, you are such a good retorterer. I’m so wiped-out from back-to-back meetings this morning that I stumbled back to my computer to check our site, half expecting to read one of your usual lame responses, and I was quite delighted and amused by your latest come-back. I laughed for quite a while…but then, I’m so tired right now the fire hydrants are looking hysterical!!
In truth, I’m not feeling quite Hugh-Min right now. I think I’m coming down with something. What are the symptoms of gingivitis? I better get an MRI or something…
Robin, I forgot to tell you. Not only were you not wearing any clothes in my dream, but you also couldn’t remember your locker combination.
Oh, my…oh, me…
Hughmins…comedic fire hydrants…word beauticians…naked birds…CLOTHED birds…death by gum disease…
it doesn’t get any better than this.
Min, take two Flintstones vitamins and call me in the morning.
Did I tell you that story before?
Does it involve two German ferrets in a rowboat with 2 peppers and a clove of garlic?
Yeah, you told me that one.
My usual lame responses. You mean like this one?
Sorry. I was tired and I just had to unjustly berate and demoralize someone…and you were so convenient. Back to the cilice for me.
(Here’s how to drive a robin crazy:)
Your comments are always quite poignant and humorous and I’m sure that my outburst was simple jealously manifesting itself in an unproductive fashion. It is my own inadequacies as a writer that cause me to try sardonically to lessen the impact of your talent, but in fact, only permits my true and inferior colors to be displayed.
I wasn’t really bothered by it at all, Ms. Min…I was just enjoying the opportunity to write a lame comment. No apologies necessary. I hope you already knew that and your above comment was meant merely to provide yet another springboard into a wordy, entertaining, psu-psu-pseudo-intellectual conversation about inadequacies or jealousy or inferior colors (like peacock blue and mauve and puce).
I kind of ‘get’ the whole peacock blue thing. But what’s the difference between mauve and puce? Puce sounds like puke, which is where I think the name came from. Feeling that the general public would not be receptive to a color named for vomit, I believe that Ste. Catherine of Bologna had the name officially changed to mauve.
What does the OPI Sommelier have to say about this?
Interactive blogging. If I write the questions, then it’s no longer about you.
Yep. Then you can shape my life according to the questions you choose. I’m rather malleable that way. It’s just like in “Stranger Than Fiction” except not quite.
mauve would be a water color
puce would more likely be in rock… tile etc.
I just made that up.
Just staying with the game here.
peacock blue is a stage of depression. (:
oh… and peacock blue could very well be the color of a naked robin in winter
Pamela I believe everything you say, because you are a famous artist. But if peacock blue is the color of a naked robin in winter then what color is a naked peacock in the winter? Come to think of it, I’ll be able to tell you in a month or two…one has recently made its home on my neighbor’s roof and cooler temperatures are approaching. (It’s not even blue, it’s kind of greenish…teal! I think its teal.
Are we still talkin’ about NAKED ROBINS???
And for the record, only MY LIPS turn blue when I’m cold…sheesh!
Suddenly I need to hear Phil Collin’s “No Jacket Required” album…on a turntable. Hmmm, wonder where that could’ve come from?
AND, Min, when you were trying to drive me (or the birds) to the brink of insanity, I’m just so happy you didn’t use split infinitives. I checked…you didn’t. Kudos.
I try to never without good reason use split infinitives. Although I will try to more frequently do so, just to possibly bother you.
Stephen, are you there? You’re being very like yourself today and in doing so have unraveled the life I had planned for you.
Stephen is no longer here. He has moved into his own interpretation of a Keane song and isn’t responding to emails there. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be gone.
The birds can nest again.
Thrice won’t be the same without you…
Hey guys…remember me? Robin? WAFFLE???
I need ya! I have some ideas for something and I’d love your brains weighing in…
Chop, chop…we need this comment thread to top 500….!
(and I miss you…:) ).
Did someone say waffles? I’ve been living off papaya and coconuts for a couple weeks now and a waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream is just what I need. Um…wait…where are the waffles? I thought someone said there would be waffles…
Oh, hi Robin.
There aren’t any waffles, are there. Oh well, as long as I’m here, how can I help?
Stephen, go back into hiding. There aren’t any waffles. I fell for this one last week.
But there were waffles once upon a time, right? Or was this all a dream? And if it was all a dream, I’m disappointed because that’s such a cheap literary device. I expected more of myself.
It wasn’t just a dream. That blow to the head you suffered while trying to defend Robin’s precious stack was the dull smack of a cast iron frying pan which resulted in your plunging into an unresponsive coma for a year and suffering subsequent amnesia. We thought you were a goner. You were even granted absolution, so you’re starting with a clean slate now. The waffles were safely recovered. Turns out the butler did it.
Y’all came back 🙂 (I’m feeling very Sally Fieldish right now, kinda all warm and fuzzy).
I’m looking for some tongue-in-cheek lines about blogging…making fun of ourselves as bloggers (and by “ourselves” I don’t just mean the three of us). A way to poke fun at the things we do and why we do ’em…
Or, blogging terminology and what it really means…
Does this make sense??
You mean stuff like:
It can be stressful staring at a screen all day, therefore I recommend that bloggers set aside some relief time by turning off the computer, relaxing and watching a little T.V.
You know you have a problem with blogging when your post has gotten 376 comments and 345 of them are from you.
Bloggers often write posts in letter style expressing a grievance of some sort. I think they do this in the hopes that the person the letter is directed to might happen to read it and appropriate action will be taken. I’ve read letters that start with “Dear Branch Manager”, “Dear Expletive”, “Dear Corporate Head”, “Dear Husband” and “Dear Child”. The signal for me to ease up on the blogging is when I sign-on and begin my post “Dear Dog”.
Blogging is just my way of sharing my innermost secrets with 68 million of my closest friends.
Or did you mean something funny?
Typepad–What blogger ladies wear to avoid leakage.
Blogspot–those colorful dots you see before your eyes when you‘ve been looking at the bright screen too long.(or what blogger ladies get on their underpants when they forget to put on their typepads).
sidebar–A small mobile pub attached to a motorcycle.
headline–a worry furrow which appears on your brow during brief spells of creative blockage
byline–the line that divides heterosexuals from homosexuals.
Blogs are the funhouse mirrors to the soul.
I may have said that bloggers have no life…but I didn’t MeMe it.
Am I the only one playing this game?
Min, you’re getting closer to what I’m talkin’ about (with the definitions). I’m working on an idea for a post….but it’s top secret. Can I trust you? Cause if I tell ya, I might have to kill ya ;).
But you SEEM so trustworthy :/. You’ve shattered the illusion.
Okay, I’ll just keep stabbing in the dark.
When you read a post that you find particularly irritating and that makes you want to start a small nuclear reaction in the comments section, I find it best not to overreact. You are on someone elses blog and your host(ess) deserves respect. I’ve found the best way to handle this is to glance at the refrigerator noticing the string of magnetic alphabet letters that your child most recently composed. Choosing a series of 4 to 7 letters, type the random letters in Caps and leave it at that. You have thereby fulfilled your responsibility as a fellow blogger by leaving a comment, but you will also have succeeded in frustrating same blogger by leaving a fictional IM tag.
Definitions, Min…the definitions were definitely the route to go…lol…
Some people might call this comment thread a nuclear reaction ;).
Blog Feed–What most bloggers get paid. Usually equivalent to nothing.
Blogosphere–Fear of Blogos (the Roman God of Blogging)
blogroll–type of sushi made from blogs (And Blogs, after all, are the world’s sweetest frogs–Dr. Suess
(sorry I don’t know how to link that)
Blogstream–Where the sushi chefs go to find blogs for their blogrolls.
Spambot–Latest flavor of Berty Bott’s beans from the Harry Potter series.
Linky Love–Sardonic anagram for Envoy Kill, implying that the inconsidrate blogger who posted this before me needs to die.
Can I hire you, Min?
Only thing is, I’m headed out of town…I’ll be back in a week…not leaving til Saturday, but I haven’t been able to fool around with this yet.
I already miss you….
I think Stevolini is back on his island :/….
Sunday I stayed home and made a huge pot of Noni’s chicken Stew! Yesterday the weather turned chilly and it was so nice to have all that warm comforting stew to just heat up and eat! I’m having some now.
It is delicious. Thanks for the recipe!
Min…something is REALLY weird (maybe the “something” is ME!). I SWEAR I left a comment here this morning :/.
(grrrrrrrrrrrrrr 🙁 ).
How much do I love that you made this? I can almost eat an entire pot myself. How ’bout sharing one of your favorite soup/stew recipes with me–I could always use another.
Did I tell ya via email when I checked my stats sometime over the past several weeks I had a visit from someone in “Niceville”? For a second, I thought it was from this post, but that would be THRICEville I suppose :).
I’ve been getting up and eating stew first thing each morning. We haven’t lit our furnace yet, so it’s nippy in the mornings. I’m loving it!
I’ll find you a good recipe. I love both soups and stews, so there are plenty of good ones to choose from.
That’s funny about Niceville.