Another fine morning spent at CyberBrew Coffee, only I’m stuck with green tea today. The better to boost my metabolism, reduce cortisol levels, and eliminate all pleasure in my life.
Thank goodness I still have my Super Sabado this afternoon. I haven’t yet read anything substantive tying Margaritas to higher cortisol levels, though, so let’s have another round!
Lots of fun posts in the blogosphere this week: take a look.
Well I’m off to the airport to watch the grannies get fondled…
… I mean, who is it that always gets picked for the extra pat down and wand check? Not some swarthy fellow of Middle Eastern descent? Noo. That would be racial profiling. Instead, security will have a dowdy, blue-hair from the Midwest standing arms out, wand nearly up her ass.
Maybe it’s the smell of cookies that attracts airport security. “We got a granny on line 3 and she smells like chocolate chip. Who wants her?” “Me, me, me!”
Pat Kirby of Ramblings from the Desert, who does seem to find her entertainment in the oddest places.
She was huge. Monstrous. I didn’t have a chance. At least 180 pounds of PURE MUSCLE. She thought she was so important in her official uniform. She thought that uniform meant she could do ANYTHING to me. In front of EVERYONE. And she did, Bonnie, she DID.
She patted me down, Bonnie. She patted me down… and she…she did it… EVERYWHERE. And she SMILED when she did it, Bonnie. She was GLEAMING.
No. I will never fly again.
Bonnie’s mom, who not only can speak in capital letters, but who apparently smelled of cookies just before her flight.
Okay, so maybe that last one wasn’t gleaned from the blogosphere, but from a telephone conversation with Mom. Get over it!
“Give the card to me” i said. I read the front, it had a picture (cartoon) of a woman in a party dress and read…”On your birthday are you thinking of the days where you used to look good in anything”? then you open the card to find…a naked cartoon woman with big boobs and a clover over her fanny (we call the front bits “fanny” here) and the quotation….”that’s funny so was i”…coming from a cartoon man with a big grin on his face!!!
Michelle of Justitia, describing her daughter’s birthday card, sent by a grandma who sounds like she actually might enjoy a trip through airport security.
4. Do people secretly lust after me? “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” Green Day (I think that’s a no?)
Kait of Kait’s Chaos, doing a Tarot reading off her iPod. If Kait hopes to find someone lusting after her, we recommend a trip through the metal detector while sporting a blue rinse and smelling of cookies.
For those of you playing the home version of “How are Susan and her doggy being Raped this Week”, I have an update.
Susan of Church of Angst, speaking not of crimes committed by airport security, but by her veterinarian’s billing office.
Now I’m the one who always gets cornered at a party by the Drunk, the Motor Mouth or the Instant Love Guy ( otherwise known as A Few Sandwiches Short of a Picnic) so I am, shall we say, alert to certain nuances.
Bernita, of An Innocent A-Blog, whose years of experience at parties might come in handy when she gets older, you know, to successfully pass through the metal detector unmolested.
I can’t be doing with all this “get completely bladdered and end up stark-b*ll*ck naked, handcuffed to the inter-city express to Edinburgh” rubbish. A relaxed evening with good company is more my style.
Mark McLellan of Gullible’s Travels, abandoning us with some rather startling impressions of the party invites he’s been turning down.
Notes to self:
1. You cannot party like it’s 1999 OR like you’re 22. Hello, earth to recent-birthday girl? Thirty-two, not twenty-two. Get it right.
Lachlan of My So-Called Blog, whose flesh may be 32, but whose spirt still hopes to get completely bladdered.
And let me tell you, yodelling every night for three months really taxes your voice.
Sponge Girl, on quite another type of partying.
Remember: even if you think you are more friendly with one member over another and believe you can confide in them, you really can’t trust ANYONE not to tell someone else what you’ve said in confidence. Inevitibly, something gets lost in the telling. Sometimes on purpose. Especially if you are dealing with game players, who love to twist things around to suit them.
April of Desperate Writer, offering some friendly advice regarding those odd literary parties known as “critique groups.”
You wake up to the smell of wet poodle and hot coffee and the next thing you know someone asks about point of view.
Miss Snark the Literary Agent, and her take on literary parties.
Heir wrote a note to a girl he wanted to ask to the Spring fling only to find out his friend, Arthur, likes her too, so what does the friend do? He asks to see the note then EATS it so Heir cannot give it to her – OMG.
Denise Belinda McDonald, author of the recent Her Passion, on the odd ways her son and his buds work out romantic difficulties.
She decided that I bore enough of a resemblance to my husband’s first wife that she would just introduce me to her friends as her son’s wife (the previous one), and no one would be the wiser…about his divorce, that is. If this didn’t work, she was going to introduce me as her manicurist.
Teri Gray Franta of Here’s to Happy Women, on the odd way her future mother-in-law dealt with her son’s divorce and subsequent marriage.
Composing in my best Ferlinghetti,
(tomorrow for dinner we must have spaghetti)
Georganna Hancock of Writer’s Edge, musing not about her offspring’s romances or airport security or even parties, but about a Yonkers-born Beat poet. (We were just hoping to end this on a literary note of some sort; thank goodness Georganna was there to provide it.)
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For those of you who’ve made it through to the very end, here’s a funny little music video made by “two Chinese students.” I’ve seen the thumbnail for this video for weeks, but couldn’t bring myself to click on it because it seemed too painful.
I was wrong. You can’t help but fall for these two kids, wearing their Rockets jerseys (No. 11 is Yao Ming’s number) as they rock their hearts out to the Backstreet Boys. Another student plays Counter-strike in the background, completely oblivious to the video masterpiece behind him.
Gotta love it.
LOL….omg…..love the theme.
I’ll never look at airport security the same way.
And will not travel with cookies, refrain from colouring my locks of grey or assuming a granny look.
Poor Auggie…I’ve got my toes crossed for the pup.
Saved from certain insanity if I hadn’t gotten my Sabado fix. Whew.
Now if plotting would be so easy.
LMAO @ Pat…too funny!
Your words a bit ironic, because for the time being I *will* only be getting spiritually bladdered. 🙁 Somtimes, better living through chemistry sucks!
Thanks for the link. 🙂
Thanks for immortalizing my poetry. Awww, you left out the part about doggerel and the cute matching doggie graphic!
I knew there was a reason that I haven’t been on a plane in years….Ooops, there it is!