Last Friday Absolutely Fiesty and I had lunch with Midtown Miscreant at Dagwoods on SW Blvd over greasy food served by skinny blondes who call everyone "honey", spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with domestic issues on their cell phones, and have a difficult time sorting out the checks.
It was a Perfect Storm of quirky bloggers, unique locations, and compelling conversation.
"Twitter is a free social networking and micro-blogging service that allows its users to send and read other users' updates (otherwise known as tweets), which are text-based posts of up to 140 characters in length.
Updates are displayed on the user's profile page and delivered to other users who have signed up to receive them."
MM does not particpate in the twitterverse. He thinks it is silly and a forum for people who are too lazy to spend the time it takes to actually write something of interest.
Personally, I use twitter as a social networking forum for inappropriate flirtations and last minute lunch hook ups.
However there are those who embrace the restrictive 140 characters of a "tweet" as a concentration of creativity. It's called micro-blogging.
The idea of micro-blogging is to paint a complete picture or tell a complete story in just 140 characters. The optimal, competitive form of this art craft is taking up the entire 140 characters leaving 0 characters available.
There are some bloggers who really excel at this.
My latest discovery was SheriMonk who captured my heart with the following tweet:
"You asshole doing 20 in a 60, go jerk off with sandpaper and take your fucking time, okay?"
That paints a picture. It tells a story.
Another perinneal favorite is CRSE. I love this woman.
"So let me get this straight. Poop on the face is ok but dead grammas cross the line?"
"Technically, she's cancer free so she isn't even really dying now". "You need to totally bring that up next time she pulls the cancer card"
"So you show up to the checkout on crutches thinking i'll let you cut. Well played sir, but not on my watch."
"Look, bro, I do love you, but can we just not tell the anal bead story at the christmas party this year? If not for my sake, then for dad's?"
But in my book, the absolute master micro-blogger is Trelvix. I offer the following evidence.
"I told her friends I was collecting ear wax for a bust of Lincoln that I was sculpting in the cellar. Yes. They are gone now. Advantage me."
"You know how kids cry when you tell them that the mashed potatoes are actually elf lips and butt fat? No? Well then neither do I"
"As more of a Sookie Stackhouse than a Buffy Summers, my daughter accepted her gifted copy of "Twilight" with graceful & deliberate contempt."
"To the co-worker who changed my Firefox home page to the Ursine Fetish Man-Love Association Network: Well-played. And beware."
"Honestly - it wasn't so much the Bugs Bunny impression as the eye patches and Yiddish beat poetry that made the meal weird. For me, I mean"
There is something creatively challenging about someone being presented with 140 blank characters and a dare, don't you think?
DISCLAIMER:The following expresses the opinion of the Hip Suburban White Guy amd does not reflect the opinion of the other Dagwood Summit participants.
Much more engaging and interesting than reading some local, bookmarked, one trick pony with a tiresome agenda who is only capable of cutting and pasting from other people's original content and making snarky comments about it.
I have a Special Friend coming over tomorrow night.
No, not that kind of Special.
The other kind of Special.
We're going to chill, have a couple (=more than a couple) of drinks, watch some movies and have supper. I'm cooking and she wants FRIED CHICKEN!
Now, I don't normally make fried chicken at home. If I want to eat fried chicken, I'll just pick some up at Price Chopper or Popeyes. All the great taste without the eggs and flour and grease and mess!
I didn't make it when I lived in Liberty because I had an expensive gas range and the thought of big pans of boiling oil sitting over open flames in a rented house scared the living shit out of me and would have terrified my Landlord!
But now I have an electric range and I'm willing to chance it.
For you heathens and newbies who don't know what I'm talking about, I'm republishing his recipe here, in his own words:
3. Dead chicken, I use wings or skinless breasts and cut em into strips. You use what you want.
4. Six eggs
5. Bunch of fuckin flour.
6. Salt
7. Pepper
8. Garlic, I use either powdered or minced
9. Onion powder
10. Old Bay Seasoning
11. Red pepper, powdered or crushed
12. One popcorn kernel
What to do with all this shit.
1. Put pot on stove and pour oil in till pots halfway filled. But don't turn on the heat yet.
2. Wash chicken in cold water, then rewash your fuckin hands. Always be with the hand washing!
3. Salt and pepper the chicken, then sprinkle with Old Bay Seasoning.
4. Take a large bowl and crack all six eggs into it. Then add small amount of garlic and Old Bay plus a bit of onion powder. Get one of those whippy things and whip the egg mix till all the shit blends together.
5. Add chicken and make sure it's all covered by egg mix then put in fridge.
6. Now go have a smoke or surf the net for a half hour or so.
7. Now you can turn on the stove. Medium high heat should do. You don't want it too hot no matter what that punkass Emrill says.
8. If you gots a gas stove you want the flame where it's just starting to spread under the middle of the pot. For electric stove you want high heat. Gas gets hotter you know.
9. Find a large paper sack and pour a shitload of flour into it. Add salt and pepper and also garlic to taste. Add onion powder and more Old Bay. Shake all this shit together. The mix is right when it smells good.
10. Throw popcorn kernel into pot of oil. As soon as it pops the oil's hot enough.
11. Take the bowl of egg washed chicken out of the fridge and put chicken into sack and shake like a muthafucker. Chicken should come out of bag fully coated.
12. Carefully lay chicken into hot oil, do not pack together but loosely. You cook this shit in batches.
13. Now here's the most important part!! Once chicken goes in do not fuckin touch it! If you've done what I've said the chicken should be completely covered by the oil. Now go sit your ass down somewhere. Hear the noise of the chicken frying? When the frying noise stops and the chicken floats, that means the chicken's done.
14. Carefully remove chicken from pot and lay on screen or paper towels. As soon as you do that sprinkle with salt.
Repeat cooking process till all chicken's cooked.
15. Add frozen fry's to the still hot oil. Cook to taste.
You will end up with crisp tasty that's not greasy or oily. And get this, it tastes better after a night in the fridge!
Enjoy!
*****
For a side, she wants "cheesy corn".
I had no fucking idea what she was talking about (not unusual BTW...one of the many reasons I enjoy her company) so I googled it and came up with this recipe:
*****
Smoke Stack Cheesy Corn Bake Recipe
This recipe is credited to Fiorella's Jack Stack Barbecue in Kansas City, MO. Nothing like Kansas City barbecue, and this is a very popular side dish served at the "Stack."
1¼ hours 30 min prep
SERVES 10 -12
2 tablespoons butter or margarine 4 teaspoons flour 1/8 teaspoon garlic powder 3/4 cup milk 1 1/2 cups sharp American cheese, shredded 1 (3 ounce) package cream cheese, cut up 3 (10 ounce) packages frozen whole kernel corn, thawed 3 ounces diced ham
Melt butter; stir in flour and garlic powder. Add milk; cook & stir over medium heat. Heat until thick and bubbly; stir in cheeses. Cook/stir over low heat until cheeses melt; stir in corn & ham. Bake in 2 qt casserole for 45 minutes at 350.
*****
But she gave me a huge WTF on the ham, so I'll be leaving that shit out.
I may toss in some smashed spuds and gravy and some bread & butta.
I ran the numbers and by Christmas Eve we should both be about 300 lbs heavier.
2009 is going to involve some MAJOR lifestyle modifications for me.
Eighteen fucking kids. Do they even need medical staff at this point? I think not. It's not even "giving birth" any more in the sense that you and I think of it. It's more like rolling a bb down a freshly waxed hallway.
But don't be fooled by these people. They aren't just an incredibly fertile couple with a healthy sex life who love kids. Oh no. They have an agenda.
The Duggars are what are known as "Quiverfulls". You won't find any mention of "Quiverfulls" on their official Web Site (where they sell their book to help finance their religious fetish). Because they have to know that rational people would be saying "what the fuck is wrong with you people?" if they knew the truth.
But it's right there in their header if you know Biblespeak...
"Children are a heritage of the Lord - Psalm 127:3"
But the Quiverfull Web Site isn't trying to hide anything and they quote a bit more of the passage in their header...
"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the Fruit of the Womb is His reward. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them... - Psalm 127:3,4,5"
They go on to say
"We exalt Jesus Christ as Lord, and acknowledge His headship in all areas of our lives, including fertility. We exist to serve those believers who trust the Lord for family size, and to answer the questions of those seeking truth in this critical area of marriage.
Whether your quiver is large or small, you are welcome. Come browse our articles and resources. Also, be sure to check out the QuiverFull Digest, our email discussion group that was started in 1995.
Dedicated to providing encouragement and practical help to those who are striving to raise a large and growing, godly family in today's world!"
But this wacko religious idea to have as many children as possible is more than just a faith fetish. It's a political movement.
"Quiverfull authors Hess and Hess, along with Joyce, also connect the proliferation of conservative politics as a motivation behind Quiverfull. Hess and Hess state,
When at the height of the Reagan Revolution the conservative faction in Washington was enforced with squads of new conservative congressmen, legislators often found themselves handcuffed by lack of like-minded staff. There simply weren't enough conservatives trained to serve in Washington in the lower and middle capacities.[2]
Hess and Hess continue by envisioning that the offspring of Quiverfull families might enter national and local politics to bring conservative majorities, publicly-funded education to bring the teaching of creationism, and business to adjure companies to adhere to what adherents see as Christian sensibilities.[2][6]"
This is all about birthing as many white, Christian babies as possible, indoctrinating them in narrow minded, intolerant, rascist, fundamental Christian views, and raising them up to be lawyers, politicians, judges and power brokers who will have the juice to force their fantasy-based bullshit down the throats of sane, rational human beings with the force of law.
So the next time you see a picture of that big, lovable Duggar clan,
remember that you are looking at a platoon of religious Nazis who want to force their way of life on you.
So I was out running some errands today up in Liberty. Having lived there for a couple of years I know how to get around on the back roads and side streets so as to keep traffic congestion and human interaction to a bare fucking minimum. Because I really don't like people very much. Scratch that...too many words again...I really don't like people. Period. Except for you, of course. And that babe over there with the great rack and the badonkadonk.
So I'm on Church Rd., if you can believe that shit. It runs parallel to 35 on the west side and it's a good way to get to the Liberty Walmart area and avoids the Holy Australian Clusterfuck that is the intesection of I-35 and 152.
I'm coming up on the Cedar Crest development. It's a bunch of duplexes that I looked into the last time I moved. They were all right. Just kind of plain and boring.
But not any fucking more! No sir! They now have what folks in Real Estate call a Distinguishing Feature. Something that sets them apart from other residential developments. Something to make them stand out from the crowd.
They have Robo-Jeebus.
(you should click to embiggen and get a better look...the backlighting was a bad idea)
Well, maybe not an actual Robo-Jeebus. I never saw him move. But he could still be a robot. He could just be standing sentinal like Gort in "The Day The Earth Stood Still" until the property manager says "Chrsito barada nicto" or something. Then he goes about righteously smiting delinquent duplex renters and collecting the fucking rent.
I've never been very good at estimating the size of things (other than my 14" penis), but this giganto-Jeebus has to be 25 or 30 feet tall. And I don't know if that is aluminum, or stainless steel or what the fuck it is.
The thing is, if it were in front of a church or something, it would be kinda cool and pretty impressive.
But it's not! It's just standing there in front of a bunch of duplexes for NO APPARENT REASON! That's fucked up!
I can just hear this conversation:
FRIEND 1: "Dood, I need to hook up with you to buy some blow and have some gay sex. How do I get to your place?"
FRIEND 2: "It's easy. Get on I-35 north and take the Pleasant Valley exit. Make a left, cross under the highway and then make a right on Church Rd. right by the QT there. Keep going until you see a shiny, 30 FOOT TALL, STAINLESS STEEL, GIANT FUCKING JESUS CHRIST SHOOTING DIVINE FUCKING DEATH RAYS FROM HIS FUCKING HEART!! That's me. Make a left. I'm 37B. Bring lube!"
I joined because it was free. I like free. And I took their silly personality profile thing. I guess you get what you pay for. Here is what they said about me...
Self-Confidence
As someone with high self-confidence, you feel quite comfortable interacting with other people. Indeed, you find the company of others very stimulating and enjoy meeting new people. Your relaxed demeanor in groups makes people around you comfortable too. Perhaps because you feel comfortable talking about yourself, others tend to enjoy being around you and perceive you as socially competent.
The confidence that helps you feel comfortable talking to people also spills into your own personal beliefs about yourself. Although you have several strengths, it’s likely that you also acknowledge and accept your weaknesses. But unlike some people, you take full responsibility for your actions—you rarely regret things you’ve done in the past and are not embarrassed easily.
Perhaps the defining feature that sets you apart from most people is the exceptionally high standards that you set for yourself. Your competence in social gatherings as well as at work should provide ample evidence for this. With these characteristics, it’s very likely that people come to you for advice and generally think of you as someone with leader-like qualities.
Family Orientation
As someone who is oriented to familial matters, you value the company of family-members and domestic life. If you have children already, you enjoy spending time with them very much and work hard to be a good parent. If you don’t have children, you very much desire having children in the future. And your preference for cooking and entertaining guests at home will likely ease the transition into parenthood.
You take pride in maintaining and cultivating a healthy family and work hard to achieve this. This natural tendency is easily illustrated by your preference for doing things around the house as opposed to going out to clubs and restaurants.
What really sets you apart from people that are low in family orientation is that you know how to manage your frustrations and work well on your own. This means that you are well-equipped to manage a family without letting all the work that is involved wear you down. However, as someone with strong family values, all the work that is involved in maintaining a tidy home and well-stocked kitchen might occasionally make it difficult for you to finish everything that you need to do.
Self-Control
The self-control personality dimension captures the way in which a person regulates and directs him or herself. Being low in self-control can be both good and bad. Occasionally people may be compelled to follow their intuitions and give in to their temptations, and your degree of self-control makes this likely to happen more often than not. This can be good in circumstances where being relaxed and open are important. However, in situations where it is necessary to be focused and careful, you might find that you do or say things that may be inappropriate.
As someone who exerts little control over your actions, you may find that you commit social blunders that might offend other people and get yourself in trouble. For example, if you’re given responsibility to work on a project that requires close attention to detail, you may be likely to overlook important details because you have difficulty staying focused. Consequently, you might feel more comfortable delegating such tasks to other people who are more detail oriented. Being able to recognize such characteristics in yourself and having more detail-oriented people do such tasks could be an effective way to manage your own stress level.
Low self-control may diminish your effectiveness at work. Acting too relaxed can make it difficult for you to focus on projects that require organized sequences of steps or stages. Thus, your ability to accomplish may be inconsistent. Indeed, it’s possible that you might be criticized periodically for being unreliable or unable to “stay within the lines.” Nonetheless, you may still experience many short-lived pleasures and never be thought of as boring.
Openness
As someone high in openness, you have a strong appreciation for beauty, both in art and nature. Indeed, it’s likely that you are easily absorbed in music and art, as well as natural phenomena. Another aspect of your openness is your emotional insight; that is, you probably have good access to and awareness of your own emotions.
Another aspect of the openness dimension is the tendency to think about abstract concepts and ideas. This thinking style may take the form of artistic and metaphorical use of language, and/or music composition or performance. Thus, it is likely that, either in your work or spare time, you enjoy activities that get your “creative juices” flowing.
Your tendency to be open-minded can have advantages and disadvantages. For instance, when there are no clear rules about how to approach a particular problem, your openness makes it easier for you to identify new ways to solve problems that might not be very obvious to people that are not as open as you are. In contrast, you may be bored easily in situations that lack high amounts of intellectual stimulation. In such cases, you might have difficulty excelling on projects that do not provide much stimulation or require much creative thinking.
Easygoingness
Easygoingness refers to one's ability to relax. Based on your score, you appear to “take things as they come” and enjoy having a good time. However, being high in easygoingness also has the potential to produce stress in a number of ways. For example, you may find it difficult to complete tasks thoroughly and efficiently. In this way, being high in easygoingness cannot only make your life difficult, but also the lives of the people around you. Another potential problem with being too high in easygoingness is that it can provide you with gratification in the short-term, but in the long-term provide undesirable consequences.
High easygoingness, even when not seriously destructive, may also diminish your effectiveness at work, for example. You may find it aversive and difficult to put in all the effort that may sometimes be needed to effectively accomplish certain tasks. For this reason, your colleagues might view you as forgetful and unfocused.
How does your personality affect your love life?
With the strong degree of self-confidence that you possess, it’s no surprise that you get along well with most people. Indeed, it’s self-confidence that allows people to feel comfortable interacting with others without feeling insecure and vulnerable. For this reason, you shouldn’t have much difficulty in romance, at least not initially. Your social skills will likely help relieve any anxiety your romantic partners might have on those first few dates. However, over time, the high standards that you have for yourself could potentially frustrate your partner.
Given how much you value family life, you probably get along best with people who share your values and beliefs. In fact, it’s likely that you maintain close connections with members of your immediate and distant family. For this reason, you would probably be most satisfied in a romantic relationship with someone who also values domestic life.
Being in a relationship with someone who enjoys going out to parties and staying-up late at night might be fun, at least initially; yet it’s likely that you will find this tiring over time. Thus, it might be easier and more satisfying for you to develop a long-lasting relationship with a person who also enjoys spending time at home and desires starting a family. On first dates, perhaps you might suggest to your partner that the two of you spend a quiet night having dinner at one of your respective homes instead of going out to a restaurant or club.
As someone who is more relaxed than most people, you likely get along with most people quite well. Chances are that your friends and colleagues perceive you as lively, fun to be with, and good-humored. When it comes to romance, you’ll likely be attracted to most people. However, your free-spirited nature might make being in a relationship with a person that is more rigid than you difficult because you might perceive the person as being too uptight and controlling.
Your openness probably makes it easy for you to respect and appreciate people that are different from you. However, when it comes to romantic relationships, your openness might make it difficult for you to tolerate people that cannot appreciate diversity as much as you. Therefore, you may be happiest in serious relationships with people that share your open-mindedness. But, your openness might occasionally cause a certain degree of dependency on your end because you may be so open that you easily adopt the preferences and habits of your partners and gradually relinquish things that make you so unique.
*****
All so complicated! Too many words!
It's easier just to classify me as a charming buffoon. Two words, four syllables. Easier to wrap your head around and just as accurate at predicting future behavior.
There is more fascinating news on the 100 Year Old Weblog about the aftermath of the raging gun battle that took place between police and a family of river-boating religous fanatics.
You have got to go over to the 100 Year Old Weblog and read this incredible story!
Apparently, 100 years ago, there was a raging gun battle in Kansas City between a family of religious fanatics and the police witnessed by about 500 spectators! The first shot was fired by a 12 year old girl! There was a "high speed pursuit" on the river!
I'm not kidding you, this would make one hell of a movie! A lot more dramatic than the Union Station Massacre.
The articles never come right out and say what religion the "fanatics" belonged to, but their belief that only 144,000 people will make it to Heaven is a big clue.
Seriously, I don't understand why I am just hearing about this now. There is definitely a part for Christopher Walken in this movie.
There is so much emotional and religious baggage associated with the word "marriage".
The religious right likes to harp on the idea that The Bible defines marriage as the sacred union between "one man and one woman". I defy anyone to find a passage from the Old Testament or a "quote" from Jesus that makes this distinction.
Let me save you some time. There aren't any.
There are some scattered references in the latter books of the New Testament that weigh in on the subject of marriage. But the Old Testament Jehovah and the New Testament Jesus never mention the subject.
In fact, the patriarch of monotheism, Abram/Abraham, the source of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, built his fortune pimping out his wife to various wealthy landed men in exchange for real estate, only to later expose the fraud, keep the land, and move on to the next sucker.
He was a con man who treatd his wife like a whore for his own profit! This was who Yahweh picked as "his main guy". His "chosen one". Was that a marriage between "one man and one woman"?
I seem to recall other Old Testament patriarchs having multiple wives, concubines and slaves with whom they had offspring. Were those arrangements marriages between "one man and one woman"?
Christians like to point out that the arrival and crucifixion of Jesus was like a renegotiation of the contract between God and man.
O.K., fine. Find me one quote...just one...anywhere in the New Testament, where Jesus himself defines the terms of marriage. He doesn't. There aren't any.
We need to separate legal rights from sacred sanction without creating 2nd class citizens.
Marriage, as an institution, is not defined by religious text. It is defined by legal text and precedent.
THE XO PLAN
States should define "marriage" as a secular, legal, bonding between two consenting, unrelated (outside of a defined parameter) adults that endows both parties with all of the traditional and legal privileges of any other marriage sanctioned by the state.
It should be a marriage. Not a civil union, but an actual marriage in the eyes and nomenclature of the state and just as binding by state and federal law as any other marriage. The defining certification is made by a civil official.
A separate ceremony, call it a Sacred Marriage or Eternal Bonding...whatever, may at the discretion of a religious institution be performed. It should carry all of the same legal weight and privileges as a civil ceremony. Religious institutions are completely free to make their own determinations based on their own scriptures and dogma as to what sort of unions they will grant their blessings. This determination may not, under any circumstances, be usurped by any government.
The secular laws determine what constitutes a marriage in legal terms and, by federal law, must be recognized and respected in all states. These laws must include both civil and sacred ceremonies.
The individual religious communities are free to define what they consider to be a valid marriage according to their standards and may impose whatever restrictions (giving communion, baptism, excommunication, etc.) as they see fit.
A couple may choose to have just a civil marriage, just a religious marriage, or both.
But they would all be equally binding marriages under state and federal law and they would all have the exact same benefits and privileges to both parties.
When it comes to determining rights in a court of law, it wouldn't matter if they had a secular marriage, a religous marriage, or both. All would be equal in the eyes of the law.
How could this possibly hurt or pose a threat to anyone?
Why should heterosexuals have a monopoly on emotional desolation, sexual blackmail and financial bondage?
Conservatives are always bemoaning the decline of marriage as young people choose to just live together rather than make a sacred, soul-binding, life long commitment before God Almighty.
What better way to preserve the institution of marriage than open it up to an entire demographic that doesn't know any better because they've never been exposed to its insidiousness?
As jaded, damaged, baggage-ridden heterosexuals abandon the ancient institution for the torturous, money draining, black hole of self esteem it has become, by all means, let us throw open the gates of marriage to the one group that wants to embrace the concept.
Gay Marriage is the only short term solution for rescuing the Institution Of Marriage from the ash heap of outmoded ideas.
If the LGBT community wants marriage...I say, let them have it.
I will gladly relinquish my place in line to anyone who wants it.
I got tagged by Atheist Homeschooler for the six random things about myself meme. Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (That's the underliney bit at the top.) 2. Post the rules on your blog. (That's what yer reading.) 3. Write six random arbitrary things about yourself.(That's what yer on pins and needles waiting for. GET ON WITH IT!!!!) 4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. (I won't be doing this) 5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog. (I won't be doing this either.) 6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up. (I may or may not do this. It's very, very late)
Random Fact XO #1: One of my first jobs was as an usher in a movie theatre. Back when they still had flashlight-toting, facsist ushers. My first night on the job I kicked out 7 people before the intermission. One of them was my sister.
Random Fact XO #2: I used to drive an Ice Cream truck. Looking back, driving around all day long at 3 mph, ringing a bell, dispensing frozen joy seems like a pretty good fucking job! Not a lot of stress.
Random Fact XO #3: I used to drive a Taxi Cab in Raytown back in the late 70's. My best tip EVER was being invited inside by a female passenger 20 years my senior who needed a ride home from a bar. I remember it well, though I doubt she does. I still had shoulder length hair and was wearing blue jeans and a fringed, suede, leather jacket. She was wearing a green, polyester business suit that reeked Real Estate Agent. I was out of radio communication with the dispatcher for several hours. Good times!
Random Fact XO #4: I once chipped a front tooth going ass over tea kettles peddaling a tricycle that I was far too old and big for down a broken up driveway. One tooth is still shorter than the other.
Random Fact XO #5: My first car was a 1963 Galaxy 500. Bought it for $90.00. I owned it for a year, but it only ran for about 6 months. Not 6 continuous months. But a few days here, a few days there...it probably totaled up to about 6 months.
Random Fact XO #6: One of my favorite things in the entire world is just being at home in comfy clothes, fixing comfort food, snuggling up with a woman I care about, and watching movies. It doesn't get any better than that.
Dash finally adjusted to being at my house. His appetite slowly increased as he became more accustomed to his surroundings.
We reached an equilibrium.
He preferred to live under my couch. That was his space and I was cool with that. He came out when he wanted. He went back when he wanted. He's a cat. That's what they do.
He is a very affectionate and low maintenance cat. He isn't shy about jumping up in my lap, rubbing his head against my hand, or exhibiting other Mad Cat Skillz at demanding attention.
He is completely immune to catnip. No reaction whatsoever. Same with cat toys. He's too cool to be suckered in by rolling, noisy, trinkets.
Tomorrow, Dash and all of his kitty paraphernalia go back to his family.
I'm not sure what I will do.
It was nice having him here over the holidays, but I don't know if I want a permanent cat. I might have a slight allergy. I noticed some increased itchiness and dry eyed rubbeyness. Had to be more careful about animal-proofing my surroundings.
I can't deny that it was comforting to have a warm, living, loving, companion sharing my living space for a while.
A young, energetic, slutty, nymphomaniac would have been better. But the cat was nice.
I know for sure my lease requires an additional deposit for a pet and there might even be an increase in my rent.
I don't recall any language in my lease regarding uninhibited, sexually aggressive, female humans.
It is amazing what you can deduce about someone through casual observation. Keep in mind that all of these observations were made checking my mail or grilling burgers. No actual interest or spying was involved. Just casual observation and a functioning mind.
My neighbor is moving this weekend. For the most part my neighbors and I don't interact much. We all have garages, we pull in and close the doors and the only ones who go back out again are the dog owners.
But I've noticed some things about my neighbor over the past year that tell me a lot.
She's a young, big-boned girl who generally has her shoulder length hair pulled back in a pony tail, out of the way, and she wears scrubs. So, obviously, a medical technician or nurse of some sort.
She has one child, a husky lad of about 12 or so, short-cropped hair and he's in the school band where he plays trumpet. I've seen him at the bus stop with his trumpet case. This tells me he is a bit of a nerd (calm down - I was a trumpet player myself - I know of what I speak).
This also tells me he probably comes from a conservative household where they encourage their chunky children to increase their unpopularity by doing things like being in the marching band.
His mother is either recently divorced or recently separated. I think separated. She drives an SUV. Young, single mothers working in the medical field can't afford large SUVs unless they are doctors. Doctors don't live in anonymous McFourplexes in Independence. No, she's been married and he's still making payments on that beast.
I've seen her sitting on her front stoop or pacing back and forth outside her front door, still in her scrubs from work, talking on her cell phone and smoking. She's talking to her ex. I can't hear the conversation...I can just tell. She's having conversations she doesn't want her son to hear and they are stressful conversations so she is smoking.
There were times, early on, when I would go out on the patio to throw some meat on the grill and I would see her on her deck, sitting in a cheap plastic chair, coffee can on the deck next to her, smoking and reading.
She's not really a smoker. She doesn't want it around her son and she doesn't want it in her house. She doesn't normally smoke at all. She's just under a lot of stress right now.
Later, I noticed the plastic chair and the coffee can were gone. She quit smoking. Casual smokers can quit pretty easily, once the source of the stress has been removed. Something got resolved. Can't remember the last time I saw her talking on her cell phone and smoking.
Once, I saw her in something other than scrubs. She was all dolled up. Her hair was down. She was wearing civies. A dress, even! Albeit a long one reaching three quarters of a way down her legs. There was someone else outside the house. A younger woman. A babysitter. She was going out with someone or meeting someone important to her. Or maybe she was attending an event.
But I also couldn't help notice that she was wasn't wearing heels. She was wearing the clunkiest, ugliest shoes I've ever seen on a woman below the age of 80. I'm talking BCS's (birth control shoes).
She's religious. Probably LDS. This is Independence after all. The Command and Control Center of the Mormon Second Coming.
And today, she's moving out. An older couple, obviously her parents, are coordinating things. No expensive moving companies. Not even a U-Haul. Just pick up trucks and cars.
But there are a couple of movers that absolutely confirm my deduction about her religious affinity.
I offer photographic proof.
Mormon Missionaries, in full Mormon Missionary Regalia, despite the inappropriateness of the attire to the task, helping you stack big shit in a little truck.
Definitely LDS, but with issues. Her parents are helping her, a couple of missionaries in full dress uniform are helping her (indicating this is a charitable part of their mission).
But where is the rest of the church? If she were a Mormon In Good Standing, there would be an ARMY of big, burly, Mormons wearing weight lifting belts hauling shit out of that townhouse into moving vans with military precision. I've seen it with my own eyes. It is a logistical wonder to behold. It's like the Blue Angels of moving shit. Just try to stay out of their way.
The fact that she quit smoking and her parents and a couple of missionaries are involved (but her ex was nowhere in sight) lead me to believe that she was, for a while, outside the fold and is now on her way back in, with or without a spouse. But she isn't there yet. She still has some bridges to mend.
I'm thankful I have a job working for a company that seems to be unaffected by the financial chaos.
I'm thankful I have an intelligent, beautiful, well-adjusted daughter who is a total smart-ass.
I'm thankful that I had the uncharacteristically good sense to quit smoking a couple of years ago.
I'm thankful that folks like you stop by this piss-poor excuse for a blog, read what I write, and remind me how bugus and full of shit I really am.
I'm thankful that the citizens of this country finally woke up and realised that the right wing, evangelical, conservatives were bringing out and pandering to the very worst qualities in America and Americans.
I'm thankful that Barack Obama will be our next president.
I'm thankful that my first wife and I rediscovered the friendship that we completely fucked up by getting married 20 years ago.
But mostly, I'm thankful for my friends. It's been a rough year emotionally and I don't know how I would have come through it without my friends. Some of you blog and tweet and you know who you are. You are awesome. Thank you so much.
My family is a big FAIL for Thanksgiving this year so my daughter, young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis and I are going over to one of my ex-girlfriend's for Thanksgiving dinner. After I take GTO back to her mom's at 4, I may go to a 2nd Thanksgiving dinner at another ex-girlfriend's house in Raymore. We'll see.
In the meantime, enjoy this meme I poached from average_jane:
1. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names): Oliver Francis
2. NASCAR NAME: (first name of your mother’s dad, father’s dad): Jimmy James
3. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 2 letters of your last name, first 4 letters of your first name): Onxavi
4. DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal): Black Bat
5. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you live): I don't have a middle name and Independence is a stupid last name.
6. SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd favorite color, favorite alcoholic drink, optionally add “THE” to the beginning): The Blue Bourbon
7. FLY NAME: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name): Xaon
8. GANGSTA NAME: (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Rockyroad Chocolatechip...doesn't sound too gangsta to me.
9. ROCK STAR NAME: (current pet’s name, current street name): Dash Cedarcrest. Not bad!
10. PORN NAME: (1st pet, street you grew up on): Greeneyes Haynes. Sounds more like an old bluesman than a porn star. My real porn star name is Lance Peterson.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody and thanks for reading.
All Presidents do it. I won't even try to justify the Clinton pardons or compare the two. I'm just passing this along without judgement or commentary. You decide.
_Leslie Owen Collier of Charleston, Mo. She was convicted for unauthorized use of a pesticide and violating the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act.
_Milton Kirk Cordes of Rapid City, S.D. Cordes was convicted of conspiracy to violate the Lacey Act, which prohibits importation into the country of wildlife taken in violation of conservation laws.
_Richard Micheal Culpepper of Mahomet, Ill., who was convicted of making false statements to the federal government.
_Brenda Jean Dolenz-Helmer of Fort Worth, Texas, for reporting or helping cover up a crime.
_Andrew Foster Harley of Falls Church, Va. Harley was convicted of wrongful use and distribution of marijuana and cocaine.
_Obie Gene Helton of Rossville, Ga., whose offense was unauthorized acquisition of food stamps.
_Carey C. Hice Sr. of Travelers Rest, S.C., who was convicted of income tax evasion.
_Geneva Yvonne Hogg of Jacksonville, Fla., convicted of bank embezzlement.
_William Hoyle McCright Jr. of Midland, Texas, who was sentenced for making false entries, books, reports or statements to a bank.
_Paul Julian McCurdy of Sulphur, Okla., who was sentenced for misapplication of bank funds.
_Robert Earl Mohon Jr. of Grant, Ala., who was convicted of conspiracy to distribute marijuana.
_Ronald Alan Mohrhoff of Los Angeles, who was convicted for unlawful use of a telephone in a narcotics felony.
_Daniel Figh Pue III of Conroe, Texas, convicted of illegal treatment, storage and disposal of a hazardous waste without a permit.
_Orion Lynn Vick of White Hall, Ark., who was convicted of aiding and abetting the theft of government property.
Thursday morning Dash was still in hiding. I topped off the food and water and cleaned out the litter box before heading off for work.
When I got home Thursday night the food dish was untouched. This concerned me. I knew he would be under the couch, so I tipped it up to roust him out. No squeaker.
So I got down on the floor and lifted up the foot rest. Squeaker is tucked way in the back behind a metal bar. I think maybe he's stuck back there and can't get out. Maybe that's why he hasn't eaten anything all day.
NOTE: Cats never get stuck anywhere. Anyplace a cat can get to a cat can get out of.
So I set about the task of extracting the cat. I'm laying on my left side trying to reach all the way into the back of the couch. I really need both hands, but I can only get my left hand back there. I try to get my right hand back there too, but only manage to bloody-up my right forearm on the hardware at the bottom of the footrest.
I finally manage to get Dash by the scruff of his neck and pull him out.
I pet him and cuddle him until I get him purring. I take him over and show him his food again. He's not interested. He wants down so I let him go.
Later that evening I'm sitting on the couch and something spooks him. He shoots out from under the couch and heads up stairs. But this time, both bedroom doors are closed. There's nowhere for him to hide. As I go up stairs to get him I can hear him butting against my bedroom door. When I get to the landing he panics and dashes past me hissing, hurling himself downstairs.
I go back downstairs and check under the couch. No squeaker. I check the bathroom and see the most heartbreaking sight. Squeaker is up on the bathroom counter, in the corner, up on his hind legs, pressed as close to the wall as he can get, making that squeaking sound. He doesn't make any effort to resist or try to get away as I pick him up and calm him down.
Poor thing.
Around 11 I get ready for bed. No need to top off the food dish because he still hasn't eaten anything. I look for him and find him cowering behind the downstairs toilet.
It occurs to me that he seems to be most comfortable in small dark places right now. His litter box was already in the bathroom, so I moved his food and water in the bathroom with him, turned off the light and closed the door. My hope was that he would feel safe and secure enough to eat something.
In an effort to piss off "SERIOUS BLOGGERS" everywhere, I'm making a blog post about a cat, complete with LOLcats pictures!
And it's not even my cat. BOOYAH!
Do ya hear that? That WHOOSHING sound as regular readers rush to navigate away from this blog as fast as they can? Followed by that little popping sound as the surrounding air rushes in to fill the vacuum where they used to be? Hawesome!
The cat in question is named Dash, due to his skittish nature. He was a stray taken in by some friends of mine, so he has some residual attachment and territorial issues. At least I guess he does. Seems to. I don't know shit about animals.
My friends were going on vacation for a week and thought they had a cat sitter, but said sitter flaked out on them less than 24 hours before departure.
As is the nature of social networking these days, they sent out a tweet on twitter looking for a replacement.
No one was more surprised than me to find myself volunteering for duty!
I've kinda been thinking about getting a cat lately, and this will give a chance to test drive one without making any commitments.
I made sure to cat-proof the house as best I could before going to bed. Folding up that runner with the drapey bits over my kitchen table...the one with the tassels on the end. The one that sits underneath the two large candle sticks and the large bowl of potpourri. Ya know, shit like that.
Oh, and I bagged up all the potpourri and put it away. Shit might be cat poison for all I know.
So they dropped Dash off on Wednesday while I was at work. I get home and am careful to make sure the garage door is fully closed before I opened the door to the house. I mean, they named the fucking cat "Dash". I'm not stupid.
I make a pass through the house calling for Dash using his nickname, "squeaker".
I see the litter box in the bathroom and the full food dishes in the kitchen, but there is no sign of this fucking cat. Nowhere.
I had closed the doors to the bedrooms before I left for work. I made sure the pantry and cabinet doors were all closed, drawers shut. There just weren't very many places for a cat to hide. He had to be under the couch.
But that's cool. I expected him to be skittish and shy in a new place. So I just went about my binnis. He'd come out when he wanted to. No pressure.
I pour a drink, go upstairs, change clothes, take a dump, check my google reader, my emailz and my tweets. Such is my evening ritual.
I finally make it back downstairs. Still no cat. I sit on the couch, turn on the TV and start surfing for something to watch. At some point I must have shifted my bulk in a way displeasing to the cat because I feel a disconcerting movement beneath my increasingly substantial ass cheeks (I'd already taken a dump, so it couldn't be that) and then this furry little gray rocket SHOT out of the opposite end of the couch and flew upstairs.
"Well, hello squeaker!" I says to his hairy contrail.
I figure he's pretty spooked, so I give him some time to calm down. I had left my bedroom door open so I knew he'd be in there somewhere.
He was pretty easy to find. He was making that little squeaking sound that earned him his nickname. The sound was coming from behind a couple of decorative throw pillows stashed beneath a Victorian dressing bench.
Yes, I have decorative pillows and a Victorian dressing bench in my Man Lair. Fuck you. Chicks dig that shit. How is your pile of dirty laundry and Chiefs comforter and pillow set from Walmart working out for ya, douche nozzle? And yes, I mean you.
But I digress.
So I gently reach in and extract him from his hidey hole. He doesn't resist at all. I pick him up, snuggle him, pet him, take him back down stairs. I show him where his food is and where his poop box is. I get him to the purring stage. After a bit he starts wanting down, so I let him down.
Right back under the couch. That's cool. Baby steps.
I manage to get him out again before I go to bed and repeat the process. I top off his food and water before going to bed.
That was Day 1.
Did I mention I've got this cat for 8 days?
By next week my readership will be down to me. And I'm not that sure about me.
