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I Can’t Even Look at These Photos Without Needing to Roll My Body in Pancake Batter and Flip Myself into the Non-Existent Arms of the Badly-Combed-Over, Green-Suited Fisher-Price Man Who Worked Changing the Stoplight From Red to Green in the Toy Village of My Youth
To summarize that title: for me, much of the zest of life is tied up in food and toys. If Buzz Lightyear could hobble up to me, holding a cob of corn dripping with butter, I’d take him to infinity–and beyond. If a Chatty Cathy doll could toss me a quesadilla, frisbee style, I’d pee…
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Gallery in the Galley
In which I blather again–oh, holy Jeebus, yes–and then some more. If you can’t tolerate the video, or if it just makes you cry too much, the upshot is: my husband can’t get a critique of his art work. So that means you should give him one.
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In the End, Only Quentin Tarantino Could Do It Justice: Part IV
Silence. More of that. Then some silence. After two minutes, Groom finally put down his bowl of ice cream and meandered over to my prone form. Holding his spoon up to my mouth and noting that it fogged up with my breath, he returned to his snack and enjoyed the unaccustomed silence. The next day,…
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Clearly, Because This is Part III of What Could Have Been a Two-Sentence Story, The Director of This Overblown Epic is Kevin Costner
Thus, from then on, I couldn’t sleep on the couch. I couldn’t stay on the main floor after Groom went up to bed. Part of our marriage vows is that he will never leave me alone in the presence—real or implied—of a rodent, just as I will never leave him alone in the presence of…
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…And If the Coen Brothers Won’t Direct It, Don’t You Think Jonathan Demme Could Tap into the Necessary Pathos?
Part II: Subconsciously, of course, I had an inkling about the culprit. Them was animal scats. Looking at Former Naturalist Groom, I pled, “You used to teach Small Mammals class…so what creature emitted this junk?” In our marriage, this question is the equivalent of “Does this make me look fat?” in other marriages. The poor…
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Still Negotiating with James Cameron to Direct, But Since He’s Kind of a Crusty Wanker, I’m Working a Side Deal with the Coen Brothers
We used to live about one hundred yards from our current home, in a house that had one bathroom, which was located on the main floor, off the kitchen. I got pregnant while we lived there. The father of the baby was my husband. Whew. At any rate, right about Month 7 of that…
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Won’t Someone Come Vacuum, Though?
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Try Honoring Thy Child for Damn Once
While I like to pretend that I channel Julie Andrews as Maria Von Trapp and yodel through life as though I’m about nothing more than playclothes for the children and enjoying myself high on a hill with a lonely goat-herd, the truth is I do get irritated sometimes. Early in life, I got irritated when…
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I Find Myself Hard to Tolerate for Seven Whole Minutes, So You’re Not to Be Faulted for Skipping the Video and Just Going Straight to the Question; However, Skipping the Video Means You Will Not Be Hearing Styx Today–Unless You’re Humming ‘Babe, I’m Leaving/I Must Be On My Way’ As You Click Over to Another Blog
The upshot is this: I need to re-invigorate my Ipod playlist so that I am motivated to run faster than a snapping turtle whose feet are caught in a mixture of quicksand and molasses. While you ponder what kind of evil genius stirred the molasses into that quicksand and then plunked a turtle into…
