Up betimes and into my office, to commit further acts of devilry.
Notes:
“Half” refers to No Brane Babby. If you don’t know about Babby Hope Faith, you should look into it so you can be fully appalled by my tastelessness. I understand that some people enjoy being appalled and I am here for you.
Also it is interesting to note that a GIS for Denise Richards (I almost used Denise instead of Cleese) yields mostly full body shots including nude ones one the first page of results. This was not the case with Abraham Charles Vigoda.
In Other News: Two Short Stories About Last Night
Ruby took me to KEXP last night to snap some local rock dudes, which she does on the regular. It was tiny and hot in there and I was starving, so I ate and drank at the adjacent Holiday Inn bar.
After the first show, one of the rockers offered me a CD, which is presumably full of their rockings, and Ruby took the opportunity to say, “SJ listens to (stage whisper) HIP HOP but we are trying to get her to branch out.” The rocker guy withdrew his hand after giving me the CD as if he had just taken a great risk by giving a poore leper some alms. I think he was mostly reacting to the tone of Ruby’s voice, but it was pretty funny.
Translation: “Here,” Ruby says, “take pity on my friend Herpes Helen and give her some REAL music.”
When I walked into the Ho-tel Mo-tel Holiday Inn bar a familiar sight greeted me: a white guy, probably in his 50s, drinking alone. Countdown to comment on the personal appearance of woman entering who just wants a fucking cheese burger in 3…2…
“HEY you should probably get out of the SUN,” he bantered. HYUK HYUK.
“Yeaaah I always look like this. I’m Irish.” No eye contact.
“Oh, I was talking about your hair…er…sorry if I’ve offended you.”
“What can I get you?” interjected the bartender, who was attractive, looked to be about my age, and puts up with this for a living.
I ordered scotch and the dude continued to flail a bit. “That one’s on me,” he said.
I considered being huffy and prideful and shutting him down, but you know what? That’s a stupidity tax, man. I enjoyed a free scotch just as much as I would have enjoyed one I paid for myself.
“I’m really sorry,” he said again, awkwardly.
“You have to try harder than that to offend me,” I said. “Cheers.”
It turns out I have my own Tiny Art Director!
Strudel: If you don’t know what to do, then I will tell you what to do. You should ask someone. You should do something with yourself today, Mama.
Me: I am doing something with myself.
Strudel: What ARE you doing?
Me: Well, I hope I will make someone laugh.
Strudel: You should be HELPING PEOPLE, MAMA. Not this.
LATER
Strudel: Erase that part, too, (referring to Kate’s earring) or it’s not funny.
Me: I think it’s funny with the earrings!
Strudel: YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT FUNNY IS, MAMA!
Strudel is so on point.
Your tastelessness is a delight!
Rockers should be given low doses of DJ Assault just for beginnerz.
And this next thought belongs on the previous post of P. with tiki mugs, but ‘member that naked/dishwashing/glass-suctioned-on-asscheek episode, because that’s where it took me.
You are all so good-looking with your victory rolls and peaches and cream complexions, I’m going to make you be my friend on flickr.
AW sookie sookie now. :D
No matter how shitty my day is goin, I will always laugh if I come here. You be doin yer JERB, ma’am!
it’s awesome to see you back, but I really wish I had never google image searched that no-brain-baby condition. Blerg.
I like it! I was talking pitches Sunday night with a Medievalist who has a friend who has a book of short stories that I was going to look into — but F that! I’m taking it to the streets with the Jon & Vigoda.
Keep it gutter. — Clive Davis
Dang it, after that Ho-tel Mo-tel Holiday Inn comment, I had that song in my head for days.
…And if your girl starts acting up, then you take her friend.