originally posted 7/18/05
My 2-person slumber party deviated pretty heavily from the agenda, both in activities and in time frame. Please refer to these minutes for actual timeline of events.
Event: The Super Semi-Annual Sleepover
Date: Sunday, July 17, 2005
Location: 1 Prickly Heat Place, Hotnhazy, Connecticut
MINUTES
5:15 PM
LYL arrives, puts own pillow upstairs in guest room
Comments: "Your apartment is fucking freezing! Oh my god, if I knew it was so fucking freezing, I would have brought a sweatshirt!"
SG turns thermostat up from 66 to 74.
5:15-6:35
Gossip, Iced Tea, Review of agenda
6:35
Starbucks
6:59
Arrive at AA meeting
7:00-8:30
AA meeting (scheduled)
7:30-8:36 (actual)
8:29
Person at meeting starts sharing over-long and meeting runs until 8:35. What the F?
8:47
Arrive back at the manse
9:15
Dinner
9:30-11:00
A rousing and competitive game of Boggle©, including real and imaginary words such as [these are some of the words that LYL challenged even though I claimed they are legit]:
nozi
cozi
clite
roc
rhea
poi
faun
roy
kirp
11:02
SG wins Boggle© game, 102 to 45.
11:08
Tea, cigarette
11:20
Rousing and hysterical game of Top Ten, which originally inspired this blog (see first few entries). Awesome game by the way.
2:35 AM
Game peters out
2:45
Check email & blogs
2:55
Retainers in
3:00
Bed (separate rooms)
3:00-3:15
SG reads Tales of the Otori
LYL obsesses about where she knew that lady at AA from
3:19
LYL remembers that the lady at AA used to be her pediatrician
3:20
lights out
8:20 AM
Wakeup and coffee
9:30 AM
Tarot Reading
12:30 PM
LYL leaves for home
Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate. This vajayjay is not a toy.
Showing posts with label sometimes I swear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sometimes I swear. Show all posts
July 30, 2007
Blue Rubber Gloves: A mystery in one act
Yesterday I was at a red light and, as usual, I started looking at people in the cars around me. You never know, I might see something interesting, like a
On this day, I watched the woman next to me pull on a pair of blue rubber gloves. The light changed, and she drove away, so I was unable to ask her (which I totally planned on doing) why on earth she would need to drive with rubber gloves. The dishwashing kind, not the rectal exam kind.
I came up with the following scenarios to explain this bizarritude:
- She has some sort of allergy to pleather.
- She was on her way to a dishwashing party, and running late.
- She was hosting a one-woman dishwashing party, in her car. The roaster pan was soaking next to her on the passenger seat.
- She had just Armor-Alled her entire dashboard, and was worried about slippage.
- She knew I was hard up for bloggy material, and wanted to help.
Whatever the reason, Ms. Rubber Gloves made my day. Thanks, crazy lady!
July 29, 2007
July 05, 2007
The less I write, the less I have to say. The more I write, well ... we shall see.
It's a strange phenomenon that the less time I give myself for writing, the less I have to say, and the less I want to write. But something in me drives me to want to write more, and unblock these obstacles that pile up in front of me. Stephen King, in On Writing, says that we should write every day to keep the instrument limber; you won't write a masterpiece everyday, but you have to show up at the page for the muse to know you mean business. Getting together with Leigh Yung Li always helps, and on one of our recent slumber parties I quickly came up with 7-8 stories I could tell, including how Brad the Clown once flipped a blueberry pie upside down. This is a tale for another day... or best left buried, before the angry demons awake? For now, I am simply showing up.
School ended.
It was an intensely busy time, but one of the highlights includes this letter that I got from My Little Percy, the most amazing student:
... and these shoes from Ashe, which you may remember from an earlier post. The boy outgrew them, and thought I might like them as a parting gift to remember him by. They now reside on my fireplace, and smell only very faintly of his little Indian feet.
My house occupies a largish chunk of my time ... mowing, trying to fix my botched paint job in the yoga room, growing small vegetables and trying to beautify the backyard for gatherings.
Something is dead under my shed; I smell it, I see the flies. I refuse to look. Three baby birds fallen from their nest in the front yard are covered with those same green-bottle flies. I refuse to look. I hear the flies, buzzing. There is a smell.
I joined a gym, finally, a commitment that is long overdue for my out-of-shape body. I felt I needed some physique intervention. It came in the form of Matt, who is 6'4" tall, 1% body fat, and expensive. Twice a week for an hour he kicks my ass, and I come back for more. I am starting to feel muscles in places where I forgot I had places. This is so much better than Curves, where all I learned was whose daughter got accepted to which college. I forgot how good sweating can feel. My favorite part of the gym is the shower. They have the best soaps. I haven't showered in my own house for about two weeks.
Sitting at the computer feels like work. I read email sometimes. Sometimes I make lolcats, like this one from my sister's house:
I know Todd loves these.
In a week I leave for choir camp, but I'll try to post something every day until then. Just showing up at the page; no promises of brilliance, OK? I can't live up to that. I can barely fucking walk.
And in August, well ... am I allowed to say, you guys? Or should I wait until after? I don't want to let the simian out of the bag too early. Let's just say a very exciting blog reunion is brewing.
Oh, and about the blog frolic? I'm working on it. Fuckspot.com refused to "save as draft" even though I am hitting "save now" and "ctrl-D" like they tell me to, but all I get is the silent hourglass and a blank stare.
Carry on. See you tomorrow.
April 23, 2007
Dine with me.
It's leftovers; that OK with you, sugar?
Feast One Hundred & Forty
Appetizer
What is your favorite kind of bread? Are you freaking kidding me? Like I have a favorite kind. Let's list all the breads that have rocked my world: sourdough, my grandmother's sourdough rye from Estonia; whole wheat rolls, straight from the oven. How about a nice crusty white loaf, fresh-baked and doused in butter? Mmm, a rosemary loaf with olive oil. Naan. Pillsbury flaky dinner rolls. Criossants! Wait, I'm starting to realize why I tend to gain weight. Mmm, bread. Anything without caraway seeds in it never stands a chance.
Soup
When was the last time you bought a new pillow? I buy new pillows rather often, like once a year. I recently bought some on sale and I was very sorry. They were so soft they gave me a three-day neck ache. Fuck you, Company Store! Fuck you, and Amy Campbell too! Foreverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Salad
Approximately how many hours per week do you spend surfing the ‘net? Lately, not so many. In my heavy blogging periods I could easily sit online for 3 hours. I don't really "surf"; I just read blogs. Lately, it's about 30 minutes and then I can't sit anymore. It is too nice out!
Main Course
What’s the highest you remember your temperature being? 104. I have this really cool fever-hallucination where the room keeps getting bigger and bigger, then smaller & smaller. That time, it was like Alice in Wonderland. The fluctuations were rapid and gigantic-miniscule-gigantic-miniscule. There were silver threads hanging from the ceiling. I've been trying to recapture that feeling ever since, but all I do is throw up.
Dessert
Fill in the blanks: When I ____________, I _____________.
1) Think about you / squirt ketchup down my pants.
2) Go to the bank / sometimes flash the teller at the drive-thru
3) chew gum / often suddenly choke on my own saliva
4) start my summer vacation / laugh until I cry
5) grow old / want to feel as young as I do now
That last one was fun ... you try!!!
March 06, 2007
Meditations on a Chilly Mannequin (reposting is my life)
Why are these poor, poor mannequins displayed in shop windows wearing next-to-nothing on a day when it is 22 degrees out? I, the potential customer passing by, am not tempted to buy these little items on a day like this, and especially when these cold, hard mannequins look so uncomfortable in them. Their cold, hard little nipples do not entice me either. They could chip ice. Eat a cheeseburger, you skinny perky bitch!
One time, in band camp … oh, who am I kidding? I never went to band camp! Estonian Girl Scout camp, baby! All the way! I think one of the high points of camp was when my friend Kulp and I decided to try “smoking” so we rolled up a bunch of cotton balls into a notebook-paper cylinder, lit it, and took a huge drag. After I recovered from the second-degree burns on my larynx, I decided that smoking might not be a healthy habit. It wasn’t until later that I began to crave the leaf, and while I never became a smoker, I kissed a lot of guys who did, just so I could get a contact buzz.
In 1984, also at camp, we went on this gigantic hike, wherein myself and 13 other people got lost in the woods of northern Ontario for 14 hours. It was scary, yet fun. At one point, we crossed a swamp, and Royd dropped all of the loaves of bread in the water. We survived on 2 boxes of raisins, a smoked meat stick, and 2 cans of beer shared between the 14 of us. We had already decided whom we would eat if we were lost for days, and luckily it wasn’t me (too stringy). As we hunted for a trail and fresh water, I decided I wanted to look pretty when they found my body so I put on blue eyeliner. 15 minutes later we hit a road and I’m pretty sure it was my blue eyeliner that scored us the lift from that pickup truck. Either that, or my 22 plastic bangle bracelets.
One time, in band camp … oh, who am I kidding? I never went to band camp! Estonian Girl Scout camp, baby! All the way! I think one of the high points of camp was when my friend Kulp and I decided to try “smoking” so we rolled up a bunch of cotton balls into a notebook-paper cylinder, lit it, and took a huge drag. After I recovered from the second-degree burns on my larynx, I decided that smoking might not be a healthy habit. It wasn’t until later that I began to crave the leaf, and while I never became a smoker, I kissed a lot of guys who did, just so I could get a contact buzz.
In 1984, also at camp, we went on this gigantic hike, wherein myself and 13 other people got lost in the woods of northern Ontario for 14 hours. It was scary, yet fun. At one point, we crossed a swamp, and Royd dropped all of the loaves of bread in the water. We survived on 2 boxes of raisins, a smoked meat stick, and 2 cans of beer shared between the 14 of us. We had already decided whom we would eat if we were lost for days, and luckily it wasn’t me (too stringy). As we hunted for a trail and fresh water, I decided I wanted to look pretty when they found my body so I put on blue eyeliner. 15 minutes later we hit a road and I’m pretty sure it was my blue eyeliner that scored us the lift from that pickup truck. Either that, or my 22 plastic bangle bracelets.
I was so fashionable in the 80's. Ohhhh, yeah. I had the little purse with the wooden handles and the interchangeable button-on covers. I had penny loafers with real pennies in them, sometimes dimes because I'm a rebel that way ... My hair feathered in the most perfect way, starting right in the middle at the part and traveling all the way down the side in a roll that ended at my shoulders. I wore the button-down shirt with the ribbon tied in a bow at my neck. And what about those sweaters with the puffy sleeves? Yes. Argyle vests? Yes. Knickers? Parachute pants? Adidas sneakers? Rubber bracelets? Headgear?? Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh god, yes.
I used to love shoelaces and ribbons with little pictures on them, like ice cream cones or pineapples, or little jumping frogs. I could not have enough of those. Today, I saw a girl with a belt that had little cherries embroidered on it, and I had a flashback to elementary school. It hit me like a wave. So fuck you again, Amy Campbell!
March 01, 2007
A little something caught in my teeth.
twolf1920 has left a new comment on your post Keep those questions comin': Might be too late, but here goes! Whats the most EMBARRASSING thing that ever happened to you? If you tell me YOURS, I will tell you MINE!
Sorry twolf, I hope you didn't feel too left out of the blogsnuggle. Here is my reply:
I have two related embarrasing tales, both of which involve underwear.
Embarrassing Tale #1 (grade three): Amy Campbell untied my wrap-around skirt so that when I stood up to return my tray, my skirt fell down and the whole cafeteria saw my little briefs with the assortment of colored mushrooms all over them (what in the seven levels of Hell were those all about?!?). At least, I always blamed her; but I was never really sure whether she did it, or if it just came untied on its own. Fuck you anyway, Amy Campbell!
Embarrassing Tale #1 (grade three): Amy Campbell untied my wrap-around skirt so that when I stood up to return my tray, my skirt fell down and the whole cafeteria saw my little briefs with the assortment of colored mushrooms all over them (what in the seven levels of Hell were those all about?!?). At least, I always blamed her; but I was never really sure whether she did it, or if it just came untied on its own. Fuck you anyway, Amy Campbell!
Embarrassing Tale #2 (circa 1998): I was teaching high school and sharing a room with a woman who was in charge of the Senior Homecoming Float. Hence I thought nothing of it when I saw a scrap of fabric lying in the middle of the floor. After the students had gone, I picked it up and discovered, holy shit, this is underwear. Holy everliving fuck, this is my underwear! I had a pair of panties stuck inside my pants leg from a previous wearing, that had worked their way out onto the floor of my classroom of sophomores. To this day I wonder at what point they were hanging, hermit-crab-like, half in/half out of my pants leg. Fuck you again, Amy Campbell!! Fuck you foreverrrrrrr!!!!
January 06, 2007
Trickle, Torrent, Tidal Wave
a.k.a. My Screaming Meltdown at CVS, followed by Spiritual Crisis, Redemption, and Ultimately, Salvation for Myself and All of Mankind
I ran out of all the medicine cabinet essentials this week (cold medicine, Imodium, tampons ... it was a really great week, but that tale is for another day, or never.), so I went to CVS this morning to replenish. Lo and holy fuck, but what am I facing … an Easter display. An EASTER DISPLAY ON JANUARY 6th. Already I am having the most surreal and somewhat fear-filled day on this 72-degree spring January day, and now I am looking at Marshmallow Peeps and Cadbury Fucking Cream Eggs.
So I turn back to my line and try not to let this depress me, because as you know from my last shopping trip I tend to get a little bit suicidal when I do errands. Then I see all the people standing in line, nobody talking to each other, two screaming into their cell phones, and one rocking out in silence, plugged into his mp3 world.
I pay, get in the car, drive home to spend my own afternoon in silence and then suddenly, like a bolt form the blue, I decide that I am done.
I am done.
I am so, so very done.
I know that I am somewhat influenced by the article I read the other day (2 posts ago), but this does not change the impact of the revelation. I am done with this whole consuming, consuming, consuming thing. The commercialism, the cram-it-down-your-throat mentality that we all buy into (sometimes). Eat this! Swallow this! Listen to this Christmas crap music starting in October and 24 hours a day until Christmas! Buy these Valentine’s goodies the day after Christmas and these Easter goodies six days into the New Year! Dress like this! Use this shampoo! Drive this car! Read this book!
So we all run around, buying all this crap, and nobody talks to anybody. We’re just stuffing and stuffing and stuffing the void and nothing will ever fill it. I can’t take it anymore.
I’m done.
Obviously, I still need to consume. But the only thing that will ever fill my soul -- our souls -- is the knowledge that we are part of some gigantic intangible.
I am going to make a conscious effort to be more connected to the humanity around me. Whether it’s a conversation in the grocery line, a note to a distant friend, a phone call I’ve been putting off, I need to connect more. I’m going to strive every day to have conversations with my students, and not just throw information at them. I’m going to go to an AA meeting, not so much because I need it (though I do, and it saved my life), but because someone else might benefit from something I say. If I'm feeling brave, I might even talk to my neighbors.
I’m thinking that maybe if each of us would try, in our small way, to connect more, and plug into our electronics less, together we might just change the world.
I ran out of all the medicine cabinet essentials this week (cold medicine, Imodium, tampons ... it was a really great week, but that tale is for another day, or never.), so I went to CVS this morning to replenish. Lo and holy fuck, but what am I facing … an Easter display. An EASTER DISPLAY ON JANUARY 6th. Already I am having the most surreal and somewhat fear-filled day on this 72-degree spring January day, and now I am looking at Marshmallow Peeps and Cadbury Fucking Cream Eggs.
So I turn back to my line and try not to let this depress me, because as you know from my last shopping trip I tend to get a little bit suicidal when I do errands. Then I see all the people standing in line, nobody talking to each other, two screaming into their cell phones, and one rocking out in silence, plugged into his mp3 world.
I pay, get in the car, drive home to spend my own afternoon in silence and then suddenly, like a bolt form the blue, I decide that I am done.
I am done.
I am so, so very done.
I know that I am somewhat influenced by the article I read the other day (2 posts ago), but this does not change the impact of the revelation. I am done with this whole consuming, consuming, consuming thing. The commercialism, the cram-it-down-your-throat mentality that we all buy into (sometimes). Eat this! Swallow this! Listen to this Christmas crap music starting in October and 24 hours a day until Christmas! Buy these Valentine’s goodies the day after Christmas and these Easter goodies six days into the New Year! Dress like this! Use this shampoo! Drive this car! Read this book!
So we all run around, buying all this crap, and nobody talks to anybody. We’re just stuffing and stuffing and stuffing the void and nothing will ever fill it. I can’t take it anymore.
I’m done.
Obviously, I still need to consume. But the only thing that will ever fill my soul -- our souls -- is the knowledge that we are part of some gigantic intangible.
I am going to make a conscious effort to be more connected to the humanity around me. Whether it’s a conversation in the grocery line, a note to a distant friend, a phone call I’ve been putting off, I need to connect more. I’m going to strive every day to have conversations with my students, and not just throw information at them. I’m going to go to an AA meeting, not so much because I need it (though I do, and it saved my life), but because someone else might benefit from something I say. If I'm feeling brave, I might even talk to my neighbors.
I’m thinking that maybe if each of us would try, in our small way, to connect more, and plug into our electronics less, together we might just change the world.
December 23, 2006
Morning Exercises
Sometimes in order to lubricate my writing bone, I have to do some sort of little exercise. I will journal at a mad pace for 3 pages (thanks Julia!) when I first get up in the morning. You should see the garbage that comes out (mmm good coffee crows cawing, damn it! Shut the fuck up. Black crows with orange eyes. Orange, I hate that color. I like blue. Blue green purple azure teal turquoise. Turquoisy. Noisy. Your beautiful lips & Oh your brown, brown eyes. Shit shit I have a zit.).
Another exercise is to do dic-flip. I take the dictionary, jam my finger in, and flip to that page. I write down whatever word my finger is on, unless it is a prefix or suffix, then I take the next nearest one. Then I write about it, or what it makes me think about.
You can see that maybe I need to get out more.
green around the gills
When I was younger, on weekends we would go upstate (NY) and visit my grandparents; often, this would include a fishing trip with my dad. We went one at a time, as the boat was quite small! He had a little rowboat. He would always row and I would fish. Sometimes, I would cast my line into a tree, but with experience I got really good at casting sideways so that it would just settle between the low-hanging trees and the water. the most exciting fish to catch is the pickerel. The hardest fish to catch is the American Eel, they pull like a motherf***er and Cannot be held onto, for they are so very slimy. You have to cut their necks and kill them in the boat, or they will wriggle out of your bucket and back into the lake. And yes, we eat them. Smoked! The Estonian word for eel is angerjas (UN-gare-yuz). The best part of fishing was coming ashore. I would have to stand and sort of lean forward so that the bow would elevate somewhat and my dad could more easily drive the boat ashore. We used to call it "the moon ship."
woody
heh heh.
percussive
Before I wanted to be a teacher, I went to school for physical therapy; one of the least pleasant types of therapy was for Cystic Fibrosis, when the patient has to lie on their chest with their head facing downward, and the therapist hammers on their back ("postural drainage and percussion") while they cough up all the mucus that has accumulated in their lungs.
I like the job I chose. Though at times, there is still mucus.
Österreich (Austria)
I had a stamp collection. It was a gift from my uncle, and it came with certain stamps and a huge book to put them in. I still have it! I think some of the stamps might be worth some money by now.
Here are the rest of the words that came up:
seize
tube foot
granary
con brio (with vigor!)
mask
soapstone
I was going to write about all of them, but I easily lose interest in things I begin, despite my best intentions. I need to wrap gifts and drink my coffee. Maybe you can write about them, or do a dic-flip of your own.
'Cuz I need to go out.
Another exercise is to do dic-flip. I take the dictionary, jam my finger in, and flip to that page. I write down whatever word my finger is on, unless it is a prefix or suffix, then I take the next nearest one. Then I write about it, or what it makes me think about.
You can see that maybe I need to get out more.
green around the gills
When I was younger, on weekends we would go upstate (NY) and visit my grandparents; often, this would include a fishing trip with my dad. We went one at a time, as the boat was quite small! He had a little rowboat. He would always row and I would fish. Sometimes, I would cast my line into a tree, but with experience I got really good at casting sideways so that it would just settle between the low-hanging trees and the water. the most exciting fish to catch is the pickerel. The hardest fish to catch is the American Eel, they pull like a motherf***er and Cannot be held onto, for they are so very slimy. You have to cut their necks and kill them in the boat, or they will wriggle out of your bucket and back into the lake. And yes, we eat them. Smoked! The Estonian word for eel is angerjas (UN-gare-yuz). The best part of fishing was coming ashore. I would have to stand and sort of lean forward so that the bow would elevate somewhat and my dad could more easily drive the boat ashore. We used to call it "the moon ship."
woody
heh heh.
percussive
Before I wanted to be a teacher, I went to school for physical therapy; one of the least pleasant types of therapy was for Cystic Fibrosis, when the patient has to lie on their chest with their head facing downward, and the therapist hammers on their back ("postural drainage and percussion") while they cough up all the mucus that has accumulated in their lungs.
I like the job I chose. Though at times, there is still mucus.
Österreich (Austria)
I had a stamp collection. It was a gift from my uncle, and it came with certain stamps and a huge book to put them in. I still have it! I think some of the stamps might be worth some money by now.
Here are the rest of the words that came up:
seize
tube foot
granary
con brio (with vigor!)
mask
soapstone
I was going to write about all of them, but I easily lose interest in things I begin, despite my best intentions. I need to wrap gifts and drink my coffee. Maybe you can write about them, or do a dic-flip of your own.
'Cuz I need to go out.
November 15, 2006
Meditation on a venti no-water extra-hot two percent vanilla chai latte.
How so very decadent I feel on my sick day, lounging in bed until ten and then buying not one, but two chai lattes, they soothe my throat you know, and solid food is making me gag. and I need some calories from somewhere. Reading the Science Times from cover to cover, feeling overwhelmed that I can never, will never, teach these kids all there is to know. I don’t even know it all. They’ve got to learn some of it on their own. How cute they all look, on the days I hand out the Science Times to them all, and they spend the class period poring over it.
A chance to do errands … the dry cleaner gave me a sour look when I handed her the bag of hangers to re-use; so what if they have the competitor’s logo on them? Sorry about the one wrapped in yarn, I don’t know where that came from. Oh, and the bent-to-hell one.
And why do I find my trip to Bed bath & Beyond so very depressing? What with the fluorescent lighting and the doors that open by themselves and all the brightly lit aisles with the busy commerce of toiletries and cheap drapes, and the music that changes from section to section; Christmas carols in the premature holiday area. Happy fucking Kwanzaa, and all the other made-up holidays!!! And the music in the Beyond section is so very soothing, with its subtle sound of dripping water that makes me have to urinate. And the bright yellow “Clearance! As is!” signs. And the would-be-pretty lady with the unfortunate giant brown birthmark on her cheek. Everyone’s just doing the best they can, doing their errands, but even with all this brightly-lit plastic wonderfulness, why are so many people so sad?
There’s too much commerce. I just want to chop wood and kill and cook my own deer. I want to see a fucking bear or a cougar one of these days.
I miss prairie days.
Just playing Chasing Cars over and over again, wondering when I'll get sick of it. It grows on me, even though it contains about 4 different notes.
There’s that high school boy who gets out of school at 1:47 and pedals furiously on his too-small bike, knees pumping somewhere up around his shoulders, his jeans so low & long they catch in the chain almost, pedaling pedaling to his oh so sad job at the 1-800-MATTRES (leave off one S ... for savings! Christ almighty.) store. So he can pay for his pimped-out Honda Civic hatchback with the chrome spinners, and maybe make manager after he graduates a year and a half later than he was supposed to.
And that lady walking her poodle; she's quite elderly, taking her time while Fifi tugs at her skinny little leash-on-a-spool. The little old lady, walking slowly, carrying her plastic grocery bag of shit. No city ordinances broken here, no way.
And does anyone else think it’s wrong that the two McDonald's flags fly higher than Old Glory? The two flags that are unnecessary, as the larger-than-any-other-flag Golden Arches already dominate the other two flags below? Oops, that one didn't manage to make it into the photo. My camera-phone. Which is sad in its own way. Do we live in the United fucking McDonald's of America?!?
Just doing the best I can, here.
I have to remember that my family and my friends are there, all of us just clinging to each other and trying to live our best lives, how much I actually love raking my acorns into piles, and talking to my students, and trying to remind them that there is life outside their electronics and MySpace.
If I lay here ... if I just lie here, will you lie with me and just forget the world?
The foam from the chai on my lip makes me happy.
These little happinesses just have to add up and tip the scales away from the depressing parts, or we’re all doomed.
So I’ll focus on the little happinesses.
...like neighbors who offer a hand.
Christmas.
Nutmeg.
The smell of burning leaves, and church bells, and the high note in that beautiful song I just learned, and the fellowship of other people who are struggling along as I am.
Done with the chai, throat still hurts.
Time for a refill.
September 26, 2006
Y'all pull up a stool and set a spell.
'Cause I got stuff to say. And when I say it, I want you here listenin'.
I actually have a cowgirl outfit quite similar to this.
The Blogging thing is hard for me sometimes; in the beginning it was easier to be honest on my blog and to say how I really felt about things, but as more and more people have started reading it (including family and close friends), it gets harder to do that. It’s like when you go to a new city and in the beginning you can act like a big asshole because nobody knows you; but as you become a member of the community, you reel it in a bit. At least I do. Either that or move to a new town so I can keep being an asshole.
Mostly, my creativity gets in a rut sometimes; I just don’t have enough feelings about things to be able to write well. I find I need to be angry or humorously annoyed to be able to write really well. When I’m just plodding through my relaxing summer, there isn’t much to say. Then one day I wake up & realize that my blog feels like a chore, and that is when I take a break. Or post really simple stuff, or dwell in my childhood by revisiting Sesame Street episodes that make me happy.
While on my short break, I discovered that I am seething with feelings! Yes, it is true! At the moment, I find myself mostly pissed off. Here are some of the things I am pissed off about:
The stupid 20 year old girls in choir who won’t shut up and even have the nerve to talk on the cell phone. DURING REHEARSAL!
The teacher on my team (who brought the dog to work) who won’t shut up when I am trying to run a meeting, and the other teacher who sits across from her and shouts back at her. It’s like Cage Match, and I’m the referee.
The way Shepherd Boy appears in my dreams unexpectedly, and then acts like we’ve been talking for the past 13 years instead of this void of silence that I hate so much.
I’m mad at alcohol, because why does it have to be something that is so nice and so fun and oh, this red goes so nicely with the veal, and then suddenly one day you wake up more hung-over than you have ever been in your life and realize it’s a problem for you? Why couldn’t it just stay fun and easy? And I can’t ever go back to fun and easy, because I am past that. Fuck you, ETOH!
When I wrote you the long email about my MS diagnosis, this comment, which I guess was the best you could do: “Wow, that is a lot to digest.” Yeah, sorry my multiple scle-fuckin-RO-sis is so hard for you. Guess I overestimated you. Don’t talk to me; if you do, I’ll just pretend I was talking about someone else.
Although I feel like I have a right to make jokes like this, and that makes me happy.
Now if I can get a few scary dolls, teddy bears, or thumb-sucking teenage girls (my best rant ever, and worth the click) back into my life, I’ll really have some fodder for the mill.
Until then, please just lie on top of me and wiggle so I can feel better and release some of this anger.
September 23, 2006
My Teddy Bear Collection Is Fucking Great
The Bear Facts
By Brenda Pflaum
February 26, 1997 Issue 31•07
The Onion
My Teddy Bear Collection Is Fucking Great
You should see how many fucking teddy bears I have. I just can't get enough! Shit, last time I counted it was up to 150. I've got most of them in the bedroom, but I can hardly fit another goddamn thing in there, so I had to start putting them in the living room.
I've got all different kinds of teddy bears. I can't go shopping without falling in love with a new one. Everyone always says, "Oh, shit, Brenda—here we go again!" But I tell them to mind their own fucking business because I love my bears.
I've got the plain-old cute little brown teddy bears with the big eyes that say, "Pick me up and hug me!" I've got all sorts of bears dressed up like firemen and ballerinas. I've also got one that's a businessman in a suit and glasses, with a button that says, "Teddy R. for President." It must mean that fucking cute-ass Teddy Ruxpin.
I've also got this one giant fucking bear that I won at the Greene County Fair last summer. It took me an hour at the dart-throw to win it, but it was worth it. It's got the best fucking paws.
I started collecting teddy bears when my aunt gave me one dressed up like a nurse for graduation, because I told her I wanted to be a nurse someday. But then it turned out that if I wanted to be a nurse I would've had to go to college and shit. Now I just work at the Pik-It-Up. It fucking bites, but at least I got my bears.
My favorite bear is this adorable little one wearing a little black leather jacket. On the back of the jacket it says, "Tough Teddy." Is that the cutest fucking thing, or what? Joe sometimes takes me around on his Harley, so I want to get another "Tough Teddy" to bungee-cord to the back of the seat. I'm not gonna put the one I've got on there, though, 'cause it would probably fall right off and land in the goddamn mud. Teddy bears are a bitch to wash. If you put them in the washing machine, their eyes always get scratched and their fur gets all fucked up.
That's why I always tell the kids, "Don't touch my fucking teddy bears—or else!" When Brianna was two, I had a bunch of my stuffed bears in a big round wicker chair in the living room of the trailer, because the bedroom had a leak. So one day, I was at the neighbor's trailer having a few beers, and when I came home Brianna has the whole goddamn chair knocked over, and my teddy bears are everywhere. Christ! I tell you, you can't leave a two-year-old alone for 40 minutes without a problem. She's got my Hawaiian Hula Bear in her mouth and she's chewing the goddamn plastic flowers right off of the neck. After that I learned if I want anything nice I better goddamn well keep it out of the fucking kids' reach, for Christ's sake.
Recently, I started collecting teddy bear figurines, too. They have some really cute ones at the Hallmark store. I was showing my girlfriend Tanya my roller-skating bear figurine, and she says, "You'd better start collecting something smaller, or you won't have room for yourself in here anymore." So I say, "You're not fucking kidding!"
The other day, Sheila, this fucking bitch I work with at the Pik-It-Up, started talking about this Bride 'n' Groom Bear Couple she said I would die for. She said the bride's even got a little veil that her ears stick out of. Now, that sounded adorable, and if Joe and I ever get hitched, I figure we could stick it on top of one of my ma's chocolate sheet cakes. So I asked Sheila where she got the bears. She just says, "I don't know," real smart-ass like. So I say to her, "Tell me where you got the fucking bears!" and she just smiles and says, "I forget." The fucking ho-bag! I wanted those fucking bears.
Why should Sheila give a shit about them, anyway? I've seen her sad excuse for a teddy bear collection. She's got some of the ugliest fucking bears I've ever seen. All these goddamn crocheted things that aren't even fuzzy, for fuck's sake. Who'd want a stupid, scratchy-ass teddy bear like that?
Finally, I couldn't stand her goddamn smirk anymore, so I grabbed the collar of her Pik-It-Up uniform, and I got about an inch from her face, and I said, "Where'd you get the bears?" All the while, I've got my L.A. Gear high-tops pressing down on her toes, which are sticking out of the girly-ass sandals she's wearing. Just then Mr. Schumacher walks out of the office and sends me home for the rest of the day.
"Fuck it," I said to myself. I knew I could beat the info out of Sheila any old time. Fucking bitch. Christ!
This Sunday, I went to Adorables Unlimited over at Northlake Mall and, sure enough, the bear wedding couple was right there on the goddamn shelf. It set me back a shitload, but they were too fucking cute to pass up. The groom is wearing a little top hat and tails, and he's even got little black shoes!
When I got home, I put them on top of the TV instead of saving them in the box, 'cause I don't think there's gonna be any goddamn wedding unless Joe stops hanging around at The Pit Stop Tavern every goddamn night, letting all those fucking waitress sluts paw at him. The Bride 'n' Groom Bear Couple even came with a little red carpet to unroll and put them on, just like a real fucking church! They're so fucking cute!
This article & photo were sent to me by Twirling Girl. Thanks!
August 26, 2006
Impulse Control Problem
I live in constant fear of acting on one of my impulses.
Last July I wrote a semi-true post about impulses I suppressed during a trip to the drugstore. One of these involved grabbing the bun-like ball on a customer’s turban and yelling “Beep! Beep!” In actuality, this impulse occurred with a student in my school. Imagine the consequences of such an act!
Another time, long ago, I worked in a school with a vice-principal whose last name was Putz. Before I met him, I sat in the office chanting my mantra: “Don’t say putz. Do not say putz. Whatever you do, do not say putz” I wasn’t really worried, because the word putz does not exist in my regular daily lexicon. The man was 10 minutes late to our orientation meeting so when he arrived, he said, “sorry to keep you waiting, hope you weren’t bored.”
I replied, “Nope, I was just putzing around.”
::crickets::
What the fuck is wrong with me?!?!?!?!?!
My latest impulse involves handshakes. Whenever I know I am going to have to shake hands with someone semi-important, like the lawyers and house-sellers at my closing the other day, I fear that I am going to tickle their palm with my middle finger, just like your crazy uncle Elmer does at every family picnic. What if I actually did that? I imagine it as I am greeting the person, and hope that my finger will behave. I’m pretty confident in my ability to control it …
But I did say putz, and that worries me. The little Tourettes demon is lurking just behind the curtain. One of these days, I might shake the hand of the Sultan of Brunei and end up giving him a "happy ending". And not the good kind.
Last July I wrote a semi-true post about impulses I suppressed during a trip to the drugstore. One of these involved grabbing the bun-like ball on a customer’s turban and yelling “Beep! Beep!” In actuality, this impulse occurred with a student in my school. Imagine the consequences of such an act!
Another time, long ago, I worked in a school with a vice-principal whose last name was Putz. Before I met him, I sat in the office chanting my mantra: “Don’t say putz. Do not say putz. Whatever you do, do not say putz” I wasn’t really worried, because the word putz does not exist in my regular daily lexicon. The man was 10 minutes late to our orientation meeting so when he arrived, he said, “sorry to keep you waiting, hope you weren’t bored.”
I replied, “Nope, I was just putzing around.”
::crickets::
What the fuck is wrong with me?!?!?!?!?!
My latest impulse involves handshakes. Whenever I know I am going to have to shake hands with someone semi-important, like the lawyers and house-sellers at my closing the other day, I fear that I am going to tickle their palm with my middle finger, just like your crazy uncle Elmer does at every family picnic. What if I actually did that? I imagine it as I am greeting the person, and hope that my finger will behave. I’m pretty confident in my ability to control it …
But I did say putz, and that worries me. The little Tourettes demon is lurking just behind the curtain. One of these days, I might shake the hand of the Sultan of Brunei and end up giving him a "happy ending". And not the good kind.
August 20, 2006
The Down & Dirty Blog Frolic (II): Tickle Torture, Spinnerina Style
The subject: Spinning Girl, freshly home from vacation and bleary-eyed from her month of homelessness. Having subjected herself to an open question-and-answer session here, she must now face the music.
Slyde said... a question, huh? ok...why don't you ever call? It’s lonely out here in the cyberverse...p.s. it was nice to see you drop by the site the other week. I was honored :)
I tried to call, but it keeps telling me that you were away from your desk at the moment, or with a client. What do you do, work for a living?!? Also, your blog is hot stuff; your template messes with my browser, though, so I only stop by when I have the patience.
miss kendra said... how far is spinning girl's house, Connecticut from say, Salem Massachusetts? And would spinning girl's house be amenable to a visit say, around the holidays, were someone from California to find herself suddenly on the east coast?
I am exactly 101.101 miles from Salem. This distance can be traversed by the spinmobile in less than 2 hours. Your wish is my command! Beware, though, for Salem (as you well know) is a hotbed of anti-feminine activity. I speak, of course, of the witch trials of old.
Übermilf said... Let no one claim Estonian women aren't hot.
This story speaks for itself. And let us not forget the hottie in the ballpit. Meowr!
DaMasta said... When can I move in?
Yesterday. No, the day before.
"K" Fingerett said... I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on your last "Discuss" post aka the "wtf post" ...Now for a question...Maybe I missed it, because you post so often and I don't get on hear as much as I used to... But, what ever happened to the monkey?
Since you are relatively new to the scene, and started coming around after the Monkey heyday, I will forgive your use of the term “The Monkey”. I must warn you, however, that he would be greatly disdained by your use of this term. He is simply “Monkey”; just as you aren’t “The Fingerett.” I won’t tell him, though, and let’s just keep your error on the QT; otherwise we would be covered with pellets o’ poo.
As for Monkey’s whereabouts, I believe he is resting. After our visit in January, when we fell in love, Monkey was quite heartbroken. He has been spotted from time to time, which eases my mind as to his well-being. Monkeys need their rest, and his hiatus corresponds perfectly with the hibernation period (a little-known fact) of wild monkeys, so I am not worried. If I see him, I will tell him that you asked after him.
Lee Ann said... Why do men have nipples?
To hold their titanium jewelry, of course.
UberGoober said... What is the air speed and velocity of a Sparrow carrying a one-pound coconut?
To answer this question, please consult the following pictogram.
Slyde said... a question, huh? ok...why don't you ever call? It’s lonely out here in the cyberverse...p.s. it was nice to see you drop by the site the other week. I was honored :)
I tried to call, but it keeps telling me that you were away from your desk at the moment, or with a client. What do you do, work for a living?!? Also, your blog is hot stuff; your template messes with my browser, though, so I only stop by when I have the patience.
miss kendra said... how far is spinning girl's house, Connecticut from say, Salem Massachusetts? And would spinning girl's house be amenable to a visit say, around the holidays, were someone from California to find herself suddenly on the east coast?
I am exactly 101.101 miles from Salem. This distance can be traversed by the spinmobile in less than 2 hours. Your wish is my command! Beware, though, for Salem (as you well know) is a hotbed of anti-feminine activity. I speak, of course, of the witch trials of old.
Übermilf said... Let no one claim Estonian women aren't hot.
This story speaks for itself. And let us not forget the hottie in the ballpit. Meowr!
DaMasta said... When can I move in?
Yesterday. No, the day before.
"K" Fingerett said... I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on your last "Discuss" post aka the "wtf post" ...Now for a question...Maybe I missed it, because you post so often and I don't get on hear as much as I used to... But, what ever happened to the monkey?
Since you are relatively new to the scene, and started coming around after the Monkey heyday, I will forgive your use of the term “The Monkey”. I must warn you, however, that he would be greatly disdained by your use of this term. He is simply “Monkey”; just as you aren’t “The Fingerett.” I won’t tell him, though, and let’s just keep your error on the QT; otherwise we would be covered with pellets o’ poo.
As for Monkey’s whereabouts, I believe he is resting. After our visit in January, when we fell in love, Monkey was quite heartbroken. He has been spotted from time to time, which eases my mind as to his well-being. Monkeys need their rest, and his hiatus corresponds perfectly with the hibernation period (a little-known fact) of wild monkeys, so I am not worried. If I see him, I will tell him that you asked after him.
Lee Ann said... Why do men have nipples?
To hold their titanium jewelry, of course.
UberGoober said... What is the air speed and velocity of a Sparrow carrying a one-pound coconut?
To answer this question, please consult the following pictogram.
Then, use this simple formula to do the necessary calculations. Duh!
Lightning Bug's Butt said... Do you think tumbleweeds ever find the other bushes lazy?
It is well known that tumbleweeds have a rather holier-than-thou attitude in their approach to all other flora.
Madge said... Do you have any pets?
I had the most wonderful cat, Juku, who died in 2001 of heart failure. I may have another cat soon, now that I don’t have a bitchy landlord.
tits mcgee said... Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?
Because, just like you, they long to be close to me.
Brooke said... Do you wanna make love? Or do you just wanna fool around?
Is it the first date? Then no. But if we've been out a few times, I'll let you feel me up over my sweater, a little bit.
Juliabohemian said... Why a chicken? Why not a duck?
My thoughts exactly. The goose is also under-represented.
Osbasso said... Verdi "Requiem" in May, 2007. Wanna come out?
Music brings people together.
B.E. Earl said... Why hasn't "Boy's Life" by McCammon been adapted to the big screen yet?
Way overdue. I would hope the director could do it justice. Otherwise, I’d prefer my imagination to any artist’s rendering. Definitely one of my top 5 favorite books of ALL TIME (trust me on this one, folks, and go out & get it).
Kat said... ...seeing as it's been on my mind lately...how do you feel about half torsos?
On myself, I prefer a whole torso. In art, I much prefer a half torso to a headless full torso.
kris said... Dear SG, Not the most positive question, but . . .What is your biggest regret?
I have a few regrets, which I keep to myself. My biggest regret involves throwing something away, which I needed later. But I believe that DaMasta’s no-regrets philosophy is a good one, and I try to model myself after that now that I have discovered it. Thanks, chica, for helping me to live a better life.
jamwall said... yeah, what's your new address? Its time to resume the swap-o-crap proceedings! :) you can e-mail that to me, btw.WORD VERIFICATION: YVEGBOY <--- yodeling veggie boy
B.E. Earl said... Why hasn't "Boy's Life" by McCammon been adapted to the big screen yet?
Way overdue. I would hope the director could do it justice. Otherwise, I’d prefer my imagination to any artist’s rendering. Definitely one of my top 5 favorite books of ALL TIME (trust me on this one, folks, and go out & get it).
Kat said... ...seeing as it's been on my mind lately...how do you feel about half torsos?
On myself, I prefer a whole torso. In art, I much prefer a half torso to a headless full torso.
kris said... Dear SG, Not the most positive question, but . . .What is your biggest regret?
I have a few regrets, which I keep to myself. My biggest regret involves throwing something away, which I needed later. But I believe that DaMasta’s no-regrets philosophy is a good one, and I try to model myself after that now that I have discovered it. Thanks, chica, for helping me to live a better life.
jamwall said... yeah, what's your new address? Its time to resume the swap-o-crap proceedings! :) you can e-mail that to me, btw.WORD VERIFICATION: YVEGBOY <--- yodeling veggie boy
The swap-o-crap is one of my favorite blog inventions. Bring it on!
DaMasta said... ... And how soon after I move in can I start sleeping in your bed?
Right after you buy me dinner and rub my feet, just like everybody else. Plus, you are already in the pigpile, so it's just a matter of acquiring a proper blanket.
Anonymous said... are you really related to jiggs casey?
Jiggs and I hope to marry, so after we tie the knot he will be related to me and all my brood.
hyena9 said... What is your personal philosophy on life?
Don’t overthink it.
Bill said ... I have several questions:
Why is it funnier to say bum than it is to say ass?
I must disagree. But funnier than both of these is “coolie”, and the topper is “gadonkadonk”.
Why do very old men on buses who sit beside you make unconscious loud smacking sounds with their lips?
Because, despite the fact that their ears are huge, they can’t actually hear well enough to know that they are making sounds.
How do people tell the difference between a fart and a dump? I mean, how do they know they aren't just going to shit their pants when they let go?
I find potty humor childish and tasteless (as evidenced here and here), so I will not dignify that with a response.
mp said... Why do you pretend not to be a lesbian?
Because most of the gals who hit on me really aren’t my type, and I hope that by laying low I will happen upon the love of my life unexpectedly at Home Depot.
Dave Morris said... Do bees do doobies?
No.
jiggs said... she sells sea shells by the sea shore. Can you say that 5 times fast?
Watch your mail for the bill to replace my monitor after it blew a fuse because of “moisture of unknown origin”.
BadGod said... What is Fermat's Last Theorem? How was it solved? Which is more powerful, gravity or electricity? What is the biological basis of consciousness? The GUT-Power (Grand Unified Theory) was divided into four fundamental powers. Name them and your least favorite sexual position.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
(Kubla Khan or A Vision in a Dream, a Fragment -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge.)
... and my favorite position is the one where you keep scrubbing and scrubbing the blackboard while I stand over you and thrash you with a shelalegh, insisting that it is still dirty, and then you cry.
BadGod said... Also......Name three machines that are 'soulful' according to Jeremy Clarkson. I’m waiting, woman.
1. The George Foreman grill.
2. The close-and-play record player.
3. The weed whacker.
t2ed said... Why did Chris Robinson & Kate Hudson?
Because Nipsy Russel.
Rrramone said... Why?
Because no matter how high the ladder climbs, there’s always one more rung.
And because you were bad.
Sleep Goblin said... How likely is Spinning Girl to be in the Louisville, Kentucky area on October 21st, when her good friend Sleep Goblin is getting married?
I’ve consulted my astrological chart, and my magic 9-ball. While most signs point to “probably not”, there is a giant possibility of some serious snail-mail-love coming your way right around that time.
Bill said... How many times have you watched "Christmas in Connecticut"?
Precisely zero. Celebrated Christmas ... 37 times.
MadMeer said... You know what would be good? If you would stop being on holiday, that is what would be good. Okay okay. I'll ask your damn question, but I won't like it! What should I be when I grow up? Oh, and now that I am unpacked, I have something for you. Can you send me your address? I promise it will not be anything stored in a Christmas tin.
Bring it on! As for what you should be when you grow up, how about a pastry chef? In my own kitchen?
miss kendra said... when will my lawyer get the insurance company to give me my damn money so I can move on with my life?
Yesterday. No, the day before.
Will I be as cool as you someday?
Honey, your level of coolness is my goal.
FRITZ said... What does your favorite bra look like?
I prefer to support my breasts with one of these.
Lee Ann said... How long are you going to be gone?
This time, only a week. Someday, I will be gone forever.
FU said... what's green and smells like pork?............Kermit’s finger.ok.. Not really a question. coz I gave the answer.ok here's a question: do you get dizzy from constantly spinning?
That is a great joke. It gives me a visual that is unmatched in its ability to promote dry heaves. As for spinning, I don’t actually spin on the Z axis (as BOBI once imagined). Instead, I spin a long and winding tale.
Bill said... Where the hell are you holidaying? The moon? Get your ass back here!
I brought you some green cheese and an American flag that I found.
Ricardo Montalbán said... Why have you forsaken me?
Tattoo was my first love, you know.
Freiya said... Hmmmm, a question.......what sky type event (like eclipses, northern lights, pretty atmospheric stuff) do you want to see most? oh and a more general one, what one item you have would you save if you could only save one thing?
I would love to see the green flash. And if I could save just one thing, it would be my leather box full of photos.
jiggs said... you're back!!!
Barely!
Kat said... I concur with Bill. It’s very hard to stalk someone when you don't know where they are.the wv gods need me to round up the pigs now: runhogz
Soooo-eeeeeee!
I have so many restraining orders against people from blogland; one more won’t make a difference.
aughra said... The first election you ever voted in, and what about it that made you passionate about politics. This is assuming that you are passionate about politics. But, why did you choose that election as your first, and for whom did you vote?
The very first election I voted in was in second grade when we had to vote for the class hall monitor for the month of October. I chose Amy Campbell, because I liked her red hair; it made her seem feisty and strong. Later that year she untied my wrap-around skirt and it fell down in front of the whole cafeteria, and I regretted my choice. Fuck you, Amy Campbell! As for political elections, I think the next one will matter most of all.
DaMasta said... I missed you, too! So glad you're back.
There’s no place like home. (repeat 3x)
DaMasta said... ... And how soon after I move in can I start sleeping in your bed?
Right after you buy me dinner and rub my feet, just like everybody else. Plus, you are already in the pigpile, so it's just a matter of acquiring a proper blanket.
Anonymous said... are you really related to jiggs casey?
Jiggs and I hope to marry, so after we tie the knot he will be related to me and all my brood.
hyena9 said... What is your personal philosophy on life?
Don’t overthink it.
Bill said ... I have several questions:
Why is it funnier to say bum than it is to say ass?
I must disagree. But funnier than both of these is “coolie”, and the topper is “gadonkadonk”.
Why do very old men on buses who sit beside you make unconscious loud smacking sounds with their lips?
Because, despite the fact that their ears are huge, they can’t actually hear well enough to know that they are making sounds.
How do people tell the difference between a fart and a dump? I mean, how do they know they aren't just going to shit their pants when they let go?
I find potty humor childish and tasteless (as evidenced here and here), so I will not dignify that with a response.
mp said... Why do you pretend not to be a lesbian?
Because most of the gals who hit on me really aren’t my type, and I hope that by laying low I will happen upon the love of my life unexpectedly at Home Depot.
Dave Morris said... Do bees do doobies?
No.
jiggs said... she sells sea shells by the sea shore. Can you say that 5 times fast?
Watch your mail for the bill to replace my monitor after it blew a fuse because of “moisture of unknown origin”.
BadGod said... What is Fermat's Last Theorem? How was it solved? Which is more powerful, gravity or electricity? What is the biological basis of consciousness? The GUT-Power (Grand Unified Theory) was divided into four fundamental powers. Name them and your least favorite sexual position.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
(Kubla Khan or A Vision in a Dream, a Fragment -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge.)
... and my favorite position is the one where you keep scrubbing and scrubbing the blackboard while I stand over you and thrash you with a shelalegh, insisting that it is still dirty, and then you cry.
BadGod said... Also......Name three machines that are 'soulful' according to Jeremy Clarkson. I’m waiting, woman.
1. The George Foreman grill.
2. The close-and-play record player.
3. The weed whacker.
t2ed said... Why did Chris Robinson & Kate Hudson?
Because Nipsy Russel.
Rrramone said... Why?
Because no matter how high the ladder climbs, there’s always one more rung.
And because you were bad.
Sleep Goblin said... How likely is Spinning Girl to be in the Louisville, Kentucky area on October 21st, when her good friend Sleep Goblin is getting married?
I’ve consulted my astrological chart, and my magic 9-ball. While most signs point to “probably not”, there is a giant possibility of some serious snail-mail-love coming your way right around that time.
Bill said... How many times have you watched "Christmas in Connecticut"?
Precisely zero. Celebrated Christmas ... 37 times.
MadMeer said... You know what would be good? If you would stop being on holiday, that is what would be good. Okay okay. I'll ask your damn question, but I won't like it! What should I be when I grow up? Oh, and now that I am unpacked, I have something for you. Can you send me your address? I promise it will not be anything stored in a Christmas tin.
Bring it on! As for what you should be when you grow up, how about a pastry chef? In my own kitchen?
miss kendra said... when will my lawyer get the insurance company to give me my damn money so I can move on with my life?
Yesterday. No, the day before.
Will I be as cool as you someday?
Honey, your level of coolness is my goal.
FRITZ said... What does your favorite bra look like?
I prefer to support my breasts with one of these.
Lee Ann said... How long are you going to be gone?
This time, only a week. Someday, I will be gone forever.
FU said... what's green and smells like pork?............Kermit’s finger.ok.. Not really a question. coz I gave the answer.ok here's a question: do you get dizzy from constantly spinning?
That is a great joke. It gives me a visual that is unmatched in its ability to promote dry heaves. As for spinning, I don’t actually spin on the Z axis (as BOBI once imagined). Instead, I spin a long and winding tale.
Bill said... Where the hell are you holidaying? The moon? Get your ass back here!
I brought you some green cheese and an American flag that I found.
Ricardo Montalbán said... Why have you forsaken me?
Tattoo was my first love, you know.
Freiya said... Hmmmm, a question.......what sky type event (like eclipses, northern lights, pretty atmospheric stuff) do you want to see most? oh and a more general one, what one item you have would you save if you could only save one thing?
I would love to see the green flash. And if I could save just one thing, it would be my leather box full of photos.
jiggs said... you're back!!!
Barely!
Kat said... I concur with Bill. It’s very hard to stalk someone when you don't know where they are.the wv gods need me to round up the pigs now: runhogz
Soooo-eeeeeee!
I have so many restraining orders against people from blogland; one more won’t make a difference.
aughra said... The first election you ever voted in, and what about it that made you passionate about politics. This is assuming that you are passionate about politics. But, why did you choose that election as your first, and for whom did you vote?
The very first election I voted in was in second grade when we had to vote for the class hall monitor for the month of October. I chose Amy Campbell, because I liked her red hair; it made her seem feisty and strong. Later that year she untied my wrap-around skirt and it fell down in front of the whole cafeteria, and I regretted my choice. Fuck you, Amy Campbell! As for political elections, I think the next one will matter most of all.
DaMasta said... I missed you, too! So glad you're back.
There’s no place like home. (repeat 3x)
June 24, 2006
The Down & Dirty Blog Frolic (I): My Ass is on Fire!
You may remember that a while back, I asked you to put me in the Hot Seat and ask me questions. Well, you delivered! Pull up a chair, it's a long one.
The Spinning Girl Interview
miss kendra said...
Q: are you hurt-- you know, from falling down from heaven?
Q: is that Windex in your pocket? because I see myself in your pants.
Q: if I had a big important party and invited you and gave you ample notice, would you attend?
A: The first time I tried to fly I took a running start, lifted my feet, & landed in a raspberry bush and scratched myself something terrible. Sometimes I carry rocks around in my pockets because I like to suck them for the salty taste. I can see you in my pants, too. What are you doing after? I would totally come to your party, especially if I can wear a gigantic puffy bridesmaid dress. Oh, I'm not saying it's your wedding, I just like to dress like that. With a bonnet and big sheep hook, maybe some adult-sized diapers if it's Sunday.
BadGod said...
Q: Ever licked any snatch?
Q: And what did you think of the total bullshit ending to the Dark Tower series?
A: I never lick and tell, but I will say that the new Edy's lo-fat creamsicle is the closest I've come to heaven. Can I go for a ride in your truck? Oh, and don't get me started on the Dark Tower debacle. Did he just run out of story all of a sudden? Here I was waiting for that book to change my life. Instead, I'm stuck in a bad Twilight Zone ending ... the ending that never ends. Darn you, Stephen King! Darn you to heck!
miss kendra said...
I have more questions, but I need more people to respond first.
Q: also, how serious can this get?
A: Just don't make me cry like you did last time.
Weary Hag said...
Q: When you were a very little girl, did someone repeatedly smack you over the head with a bear dressed in costume? Just wonderin.
A: Actually, my obsession with TBDOA did not begin until July of 2005, when I became a blogger. I tend to obsess about things in series, then forget about them. Other things that have held my obsessive attention: Adult women in baby bonnets, licorice, certain bloggers (yourself included, of course), Absolut Mandarin, Uruguayan cigarettes, Estonian songs, and the constellations. That's the short list. Also, have you actually looked at the teddy bears' faces? They are suffering!
B.E. Earl said...
Q: With your incredible spinning talents, is there any way that you can rearrange the alphabet so that I could be next to u? (following miss kendra's lead there) PS - two incredibly difficult lower case L's in my word verif today.
A: I wrote an email to dictionary.com, but I got this stock answer:
Dear Ms. Girl,
Thank you for your query. We will process your email and a representative will respond to you within 72 hours. Due to the volume of mail that we receive, we cannot guarantee a personal response unless your question is one that needs to be handled by one of our knowledgeable members in the research department.
Sincerely,
Näksi Peeru
Dictionary.com Customer Service Representative
Freewheel said...
Q: Boxers or briefs?
A: Yes.
tits mcgee said...
Q: Are those space pants you're wearing? Because your ass is out of this world.
A: It has its own weather system.
gracie said...
Q: did you eat lucky charms for breakfast? because you're looking magically delicious.
A: I'm fun for a girl and a boy.
LBseahag said...
Q: What's more important- length or girth?
A: For this answer, I must draw upon my vast athletic background. I would say that in the pole vault, length is key. In the balance beam, a little extra girth makes all the difference. Of course, in surfing, one depends solely upon the motion of the ocean.
BadGod said...
Q: OK, this might seem odd (even for me), but you know that song "Sunny Came Home"? Yes? Great......what the fuck is that song about? I mean this chick named "Sunny" comes home and sits in the kitchen with a book and some tools and a vengeance and shit, right? Then there is this "dry is good and wind is better and counting and then striking matches and shit"...What the fuck!? Then shit's burning down and she's alright? Huh? This song won awards and shit? I am usually pretty good at figuring this stuff out, but I am at a loss every time I hear this lyrical mumbo-jumbo.
A: I have thought about this question long and hard (see above). I think she is pissed off, and comes home and sets a big fire, then grabs the kids, a sweater, a book, and her keys, and goes out for sushi.
Brooke said...
Q: What would you do if you won 20 million in the lottery?
A: Of course, I would blog about it. Duh!
MadMeer said...
Q: Do you ever listen to a song and, instead of singing the real words, make up your own? And are those words sometimes not even words, but sounds that you make up to fill in the empty spaces of the song so you can fit more singing in?
A: Here are some of my favorite examples:
1. (Macy Gray--I Try) I try to say goodbye and I choke; Try to walk away and I stumble; Though I try to hide it, its clear; I wear goggles when you are not here!
2. (CCR- Lodi) Just about a year ago, I set out on the road, Seekin' my fame and fortune, lookin' for a pot of gold. Things got bad, and things got worse, I guess you will know the tune. Oh Lord, Stuck in Old Diane.
3. (Elton John--Goodbye Yellow Brick Road) What do you think you'll do then? I bet that'll shoot down your plane; It'll take you a couple of accurate townies, To set you on your feet again.
I smell a blog post! Do you?
jiggs said...
Q: My question: could you strip bare and expose yourself to me?
Q: Who would you rather do: Newton, Hawking or Gauss?
A: You are, of course, talking about a spiritual stripping. I am yours to devour. As for the geniuses, I assume by "do" you are using a slang term meaning "style one's hair", so in that case I choose Hawking, since he has trouble getting his arms up there.
Bill said...
Q: Silly question: Have you ever been naked in Toledo?
Q: Not so silly question: Why are you not writing more fiction and/or poetry? (Or if you are, where is it?)
A: No, but I have been fully dressed in Cedar Rapids, and that's nothin' to sneeze at. As for the fiction, I just haven't had the mental energy. It is rather hard for me to write fiction; I am much better at the semi-truthful anecdote. I hope to explore my fiction side this summer when I have more time (the 8th graders and their needs have sucked all my teats dry, but I should be fully replenished in a week or so). I'll start by rejoining Purgatorian's Flash Fiction Friday.
Madge said...
Q: Scariest moment ever (you know, sweaty palms, racing heart, etc.)?
Q: Did you always want to be a teacher? When was the defining moment?
Q: I remember reading, months back, something about you suddenly discovering you had the most fabulous hair in the universe. I'm hoping this happens to me, too. I'd even be happy with second most fabulous hair in the universe. Any advice to get me there sooner than later? Tips? Or, just tell the story again! Please!
A: I don't think I have ever been fully terrified. My mind did snap when I rode the Millennium Force, and I was petrified, but knew I was safe. I felt like the world dropped out from under me on September 11, 2001.
A: I remember saying I wanted to be an English teacher back in 7th grade, but I went to school for physical therapy. When I got wait-listed for the school of PT at UConn, I had to make a decision, and I decided to teach; I had always wanted to teach PT, anyhow, and my mom talked me into trying it, as she is a teacher too. I am so glad she did!
A: As for the hair, I am afraid to give you tips, for I do not want to compete with you in the fabu hair department (I already have some pretty stiff competition). But I will say the following:
1. Highlights.
2. No perms, not ever.
3. Hot rollers
4. Aveda Elixir
Freewheel said...
Q: You're still on vacation? Jeez, are you from Europe or something?
Q: OK, another one. Have you ever written something and destroyed it (torn it up, deleted it, whatever) because it was something you never wanted anyone else to read? If so, what was it about?
A: Maine is in Europe, right? Felt like it, anyway. [EDIT: Even after reading Freewheel's question 7 times, and writing a reply, I never realized he said "from Europe". I thought he said "in Europe". So the answer to that question is yes; I model myself after the Swedes in my love of both vacations and salted fish.]
1. Highlights.
2. No perms, not ever.
3. Hot rollers
4. Aveda Elixir
Freewheel said...
Q: You're still on vacation? Jeez, are you from Europe or something?
Q: OK, another one. Have you ever written something and destroyed it (torn it up, deleted it, whatever) because it was something you never wanted anyone else to read? If so, what was it about?
A: Maine is in Europe, right? Felt like it, anyway. [EDIT: Even after reading Freewheel's question 7 times, and writing a reply, I never realized he said "from Europe". I thought he said "in Europe". So the answer to that question is yes; I model myself after the Swedes in my love of both vacations and salted fish.]
A: I haven't torn up any of my writing, but I do post it on my other top-secret blog so that it's out there for people to read, & then suggest medications for me. If I don't want anyone to read something, I don't write it. You should hear the ranting in my pre-sobriety journals. After I croak, someone is going to get a kick out of deciphering that noise.
miss kendra said...
Q: what was it that made you go to the doctor and find out you had MS?
Q: have you ever engaged in inappropriate behaviors with someone who was otherwise involved?
A: I went to the neurologist because my feet were numb, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I knew there had to be some underlying cause. An MRI revealed "spots" on my brain (sclera) and then a spinal tap (the most fun you can have with a needle!) confirmed MS-related proteins in my cerebrospinal fluid. After the foot numbness went away, I experienced no further symptoms, and am hoping I can hang out in this place for a while. Sometimes I get little pins-and-needles sensations all over my body, but I think it's just because I am thinking about me, Jiggs, BadGod, and Jamwall sharing a special moment in the ball pit.
A: Inappropriate? Hmmm. Is it inappropriate to break a 4-poster bed? No? OK, let me think. Does a common-law wife count? How about an extremely close, nosy neighbor? No? Hmmm. OK, then the answer to your question is no.
jamwall said...
Q: Crisco or Velveeta? and should I use a flyswatter next time?
A: I'm sorry I was bad.
Bill said...
Q: I have another question: where are my pants? Thank you.
A: Are you still looking for those? That was weeks ago. Here, I had them dry-cleaned. The ruffles got a little bit worn by the dry-cleaning fluid, but they're still pretty.
Bill said...
Q: My last question, about the pants, was kind of stupid. So you can ignore that one. Here's one that's a bit more of a puzzler - requires more work. Actually, it is a two-parter:
1) What is happiness?
2) What makes you happy?
3) Why does water always sound good?
(Okay, I threw in that last one as a freebie. I'll even answer it: because it's water.)
A: I liked the pants question. Now you are making me work!
1) That's easy. Happiness exists in all the places where the soul is in contact with the universe.
2) The symphony. Iced tea. Loving friends. People I can rely on. A belly-laugh. Feeling needed. The cry of a hawk in a crisp, clear morning. The first snow. Harley noise. Avocados. Coyotes. Suzanne Vega. A fresh-picked apple or tomato. Peas straight from the pod. Windy weather. Sisters. Feather comforters. Shall I go on?
3) Because it knows it is water.
t2ed said...
Q: What would you be doing for a living if you weren't a teacher?
Q: And now a silly one: If they were making a TV sitcom about your life, who would be cast in the starring role?
Q: Bonus points for rounding out the supporting actors and wacky next door neighbors.
A: I would do stand-up comedy, assuming I was already established & didn't have to work too hard to make a name for myself. In my TV sitcom life, I would be a blend of Margaret Cho and Jenna Elfman (of Dharma & Greg), 2 people I have been likened to (then again ... Mimi is also in that category). For neighbors I would definitely want the entire cast of The Office. But I don't feel like working too hard right now thinking about the storyline, I just drove home from Maine for chrissake.
BadGod said...
Q: I have one more question: What do teachers do all summer?
A: Some teach summer school, some travel, work other jobs, write, enjoy their kids. This particular teacher hangs out at the pool, reads, takes short trips, writes, blogs, and tries to decompress. This summer I am also going to choir camp (yes it is true!) and moving my shit into a new house.
Q: Ever had a pillow fight that went too far? (or not far enough?) Ok, so that's two more. Whatever.
A: As in nosebleed far? Yes. Not far enough, as in no broken leg? Yes.
Slyde said...
Q: I WANT to ask something, but I can't think of anything that isn't dirty......
A: That's because you are bad. Come here. Momma's gonna spank the bad boy.
DaMasta said...
Q: If I was hairy, would I still be allowed on the pigpile?
Q: I think I failed you, do you still love me?
Q: Have you ever dated anyone as smart as you?
A: Ummm, I thought you were hairy. You're not? Hmmm, I need to reconsider my PP criteria.
A: In what way have you failed me? Better not tell me because I haven't noticed, and I would still love you if I knew, but I would do so coolly and with a condescending gaze.
A: Yes. Most of my earlier boyfriends were quite smart. Shepherd Boy was a genius. Recently, I have had bad luck in this arena of my life. For some reason, I allow my time to be wasted by some pretty big losers.
Juliabohemian said...
Q: How come you are still single when you are clearly intelligent and sexy?
A: Because I am holding out for Absolutely Extraordinary. Is that too much to ask?
BadGod said...
Q: One more question.... If Darth Vader was holding you hostage and had the Death Star pointed at earth.........would you give up the location of the rebel base, knowing that he was gonna destroy earth anyway? Or would you lie about the location of the rebel base.....wait a minute......he's gonna blow up earth anyway!
Thanks for nothing Spin Girl.
A: I would probably invite DV in and ask him to explore his chakras to find out where he is harboring his negative energy, then give a cleansing green-tea body-mask. He'll be the one thanking me when he finds himself rejuvenated, refreshed, and deeply soothed.
"K" Fingerett said...
Q: Um.. two days left till or of what? Just wondering..
A: I don't understand what the hell you just said.
tits mcgee said...
Q: Who loves ya, baby?
A: Is this a trick question? You're not trying to turn me on to Jesus, are you? OK then.
Ricardo Montalbán said...
Q: What I would like to know, dear Spinning Girl, is where you have been all my life. And also how you learned to do that thing with your tongue.
A: When you were sporting that chest plate in Khan, I was sitting right in front of you ... one hand jamming popcorn past my headgear and the other fiddling around inside my halter top. Didn't you see me? Also, the tongue thing is genetic, if you remember your 9th grade biology.
Madge said...
Q: Did you ever want to run away as a kid?
A: I did run away. I packed a suitcase with all my Little House books, my rocks, and a T-shirt, and marched down the driveway. The suitcase got heavy at the bottom so I stuck it in the ditch and walked around the block. I was home in time for The Electric Company.
MadMeer said...
Q: What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
Q: Who is Paul Fusco?
Q: Under what circumstances are Hawaiian shirts ok?
Q: What is the most creative excuse you've ever used to get out of work?
Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Q: Would you consider getting a tattoo of a heart with a banner wrapped around it that says "I heart Mad M?"
I'm just checking on that last one.
A: Mint Oreo.
A: This guy?
A: When hiding in the hibiscus from a raging saber-toothed tiger
A: I once called in and said my car had been plowed in & I couldn't get out.
A: A 100-year-old lady
A: Ummm, hello, did you not get the picture of my tushie? I'll send it again.
miss kendra said...
Q: what was it that made you go to the doctor and find out you had MS?
Q: have you ever engaged in inappropriate behaviors with someone who was otherwise involved?
A: I went to the neurologist because my feet were numb, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I knew there had to be some underlying cause. An MRI revealed "spots" on my brain (sclera) and then a spinal tap (the most fun you can have with a needle!) confirmed MS-related proteins in my cerebrospinal fluid. After the foot numbness went away, I experienced no further symptoms, and am hoping I can hang out in this place for a while. Sometimes I get little pins-and-needles sensations all over my body, but I think it's just because I am thinking about me, Jiggs, BadGod, and Jamwall sharing a special moment in the ball pit.
A: Inappropriate? Hmmm. Is it inappropriate to break a 4-poster bed? No? OK, let me think. Does a common-law wife count? How about an extremely close, nosy neighbor? No? Hmmm. OK, then the answer to your question is no.
jamwall said...
Q: Crisco or Velveeta? and should I use a flyswatter next time?
A: I'm sorry I was bad.
Bill said...
Q: I have another question: where are my pants? Thank you.
A: Are you still looking for those? That was weeks ago. Here, I had them dry-cleaned. The ruffles got a little bit worn by the dry-cleaning fluid, but they're still pretty.
Bill said...
Q: My last question, about the pants, was kind of stupid. So you can ignore that one. Here's one that's a bit more of a puzzler - requires more work. Actually, it is a two-parter:
1) What is happiness?
2) What makes you happy?
3) Why does water always sound good?
(Okay, I threw in that last one as a freebie. I'll even answer it: because it's water.)
A: I liked the pants question. Now you are making me work!
1) That's easy. Happiness exists in all the places where the soul is in contact with the universe.
2) The symphony. Iced tea. Loving friends. People I can rely on. A belly-laugh. Feeling needed. The cry of a hawk in a crisp, clear morning. The first snow. Harley noise. Avocados. Coyotes. Suzanne Vega. A fresh-picked apple or tomato. Peas straight from the pod. Windy weather. Sisters. Feather comforters. Shall I go on?
3) Because it knows it is water.
t2ed said...
Q: What would you be doing for a living if you weren't a teacher?
Q: And now a silly one: If they were making a TV sitcom about your life, who would be cast in the starring role?
Q: Bonus points for rounding out the supporting actors and wacky next door neighbors.
A: I would do stand-up comedy, assuming I was already established & didn't have to work too hard to make a name for myself. In my TV sitcom life, I would be a blend of Margaret Cho and Jenna Elfman (of Dharma & Greg), 2 people I have been likened to (then again ... Mimi is also in that category). For neighbors I would definitely want the entire cast of The Office. But I don't feel like working too hard right now thinking about the storyline, I just drove home from Maine for chrissake.
BadGod said...
Q: I have one more question: What do teachers do all summer?
A: Some teach summer school, some travel, work other jobs, write, enjoy their kids. This particular teacher hangs out at the pool, reads, takes short trips, writes, blogs, and tries to decompress. This summer I am also going to choir camp (yes it is true!) and moving my shit into a new house.
Q: Ever had a pillow fight that went too far? (or not far enough?) Ok, so that's two more. Whatever.
A: As in nosebleed far? Yes. Not far enough, as in no broken leg? Yes.
Slyde said...
Q: I WANT to ask something, but I can't think of anything that isn't dirty......
A: That's because you are bad. Come here. Momma's gonna spank the bad boy.
DaMasta said...
Q: If I was hairy, would I still be allowed on the pigpile?
Q: I think I failed you, do you still love me?
Q: Have you ever dated anyone as smart as you?
A: Ummm, I thought you were hairy. You're not? Hmmm, I need to reconsider my PP criteria.
A: In what way have you failed me? Better not tell me because I haven't noticed, and I would still love you if I knew, but I would do so coolly and with a condescending gaze.
A: Yes. Most of my earlier boyfriends were quite smart. Shepherd Boy was a genius. Recently, I have had bad luck in this arena of my life. For some reason, I allow my time to be wasted by some pretty big losers.
Juliabohemian said...
Q: How come you are still single when you are clearly intelligent and sexy?
A: Because I am holding out for Absolutely Extraordinary. Is that too much to ask?
BadGod said...
Q: One more question.... If Darth Vader was holding you hostage and had the Death Star pointed at earth.........would you give up the location of the rebel base, knowing that he was gonna destroy earth anyway? Or would you lie about the location of the rebel base.....wait a minute......he's gonna blow up earth anyway!
Thanks for nothing Spin Girl.
A: I would probably invite DV in and ask him to explore his chakras to find out where he is harboring his negative energy, then give a cleansing green-tea body-mask. He'll be the one thanking me when he finds himself rejuvenated, refreshed, and deeply soothed.
"K" Fingerett said...
Q: Um.. two days left till or of what? Just wondering..
A: I don't understand what the hell you just said.
tits mcgee said...
Q: Who loves ya, baby?
A: Is this a trick question? You're not trying to turn me on to Jesus, are you? OK then.
Ricardo Montalbán said...
Q: What I would like to know, dear Spinning Girl, is where you have been all my life. And also how you learned to do that thing with your tongue.
A: When you were sporting that chest plate in Khan, I was sitting right in front of you ... one hand jamming popcorn past my headgear and the other fiddling around inside my halter top. Didn't you see me? Also, the tongue thing is genetic, if you remember your 9th grade biology.
Madge said...
Q: Did you ever want to run away as a kid?
A: I did run away. I packed a suitcase with all my Little House books, my rocks, and a T-shirt, and marched down the driveway. The suitcase got heavy at the bottom so I stuck it in the ditch and walked around the block. I was home in time for The Electric Company.
MadMeer said...
Q: What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
Q: Who is Paul Fusco?
Q: Under what circumstances are Hawaiian shirts ok?
Q: What is the most creative excuse you've ever used to get out of work?
Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Q: Would you consider getting a tattoo of a heart with a banner wrapped around it that says "I heart Mad M?"
I'm just checking on that last one.
A: Mint Oreo.
A: This guy?
A: When hiding in the hibiscus from a raging saber-toothed tiger
A: I once called in and said my car had been plowed in & I couldn't get out.
A: A 100-year-old lady
A: Ummm, hello, did you not get the picture of my tushie? I'll send it again.
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