Danny, from an Airport, tonight
I’m sitting next to my gate … and I’m listening to a conversation between a mother, father and “the brood” (two small boys and a girl). The mother proclaims “I haven’t been able to go to the GD bathroom all day! Can’t I have a minute without my 2 year old?” To which the father looks dumb-founded. The kids are kids (although a little red-neckedy). Rambunctious. Wanting to look out the windows. I imagine I’ve invaded their space.
All I can say is … “thank God for First Class”. 5-10 more minutes, and I’ll be in the comfort of a fresh vodka drank (note the tense of my noun).
Can’t wait to see mah hunny…
XOD
PS – “don’t you DARE touch that” just came out of momma’s mouth. She still hasn’t gone to the GD bathroom.
Neither side supports Gay Marriage!
I don’t either. Don’t call it Marriage! I don’t give a crap about what it’s called. But I want the same legal recognition for my commitment to my partner. Marriage is word play, why can’t we get past it?
Dear Clusterflock: Shame?
Are you ashamed of something? Some things? Things that bubble up when you least expect? I’m not asking for confessions, here. I don’t spend many of my days, for large part, regretting, but there are at times, niggling pasts that surface. (Some are big, weighty and obvious, but sometimes the smallest ones work into my consciousness and chip away.)
Dear Clusterflock: This is preying on my mind.
What words might you use on a regular basis, in the way you use them, that have become unglued from their original etymology?
Today, I caught myself using the word terrific! to close phone conversations with clients, vendors and employees alike. I use the word all the time! I use it in lieu of “great” or “fantastic” or “perfect!” (Likely, none of which I use for their intended purpose either.)
The use of words, and their original purposes, has been on my mind a little while, so when I had opportunity to comment on Brandon Hobson’s post on August 8, I first wrote “terrifying” but in a moment of realization, I recognized terrific for what it is. The comment takes on a darker color, yes? Honestly! What have I been saying to clients, vendors and employees alike?
Please note, dear angel who watches after me and usually “categorizes” my posts, I made an attempt, this time, to do it myself.
Anyone watching the opening ceremony?
Honestly, I’ve shit my pants six times already.
Y’all! My Borrowed Cruiser
The bike our friend Janie lent me. (The one I thought, at first, too girly to ride, but I’ve started riding it. I’ve decided it’s Gay not girly.) ‘Course now we’ve pimped it out with saddle bags, so I can carry some groceries, and a lock, we’ll make an offer to Janie. (But now, I find myself wanting hand-tooled cuyo (sp?) leather saddle bags (wonder if I can get them from Harley-Davidson?) with fringe. Maybe leather streamers from the ends of the handle-bars?)
Dear Guy Flockers: I will if you will.
Get yours here.
From the comments: Deron Bauman
I’m already dressed up as the web site.
Me too, Deron! You brought this beautiful place. And I think whatever one may see of me here is as honest a rendition of me that may be seen in the world.
Might it not be so for the rest of you?
I pull it out when it seems appropriate
There’s this [insert an individual from your favorite misaligned minority] guy who is hitchhiking along side the freeway. A Cadillac passes, then slows and stops. The guy runs up, gets in. “Hey, man, thanks.” he says. After a while, the guy says, “Hey, you know I couldn’t help noticing all the antennas on your car.”
“Yeah,” says the driver, “I got to keep in touch. You see that one on the right front fender?”
“Yeah?” says the guy.
“I can talk all over the city on that one. You see the one on the left front fender?”
“Yeah?” says the guy.
“I can talk all over the county on that one. You see the one on the back right fender?”
“Yeah?” says the guy.
“I can talk all over the state on that one. You see the one on the back left fender?”
“Yeah?” says the guy.
“I can talk all over the country on that one. You see the real tall one on the roof?”
“Yeah?” says the guy.
“I can talk all over the world on that one.”
“You know?” Says the guy. “I do anything to be able to talk to my mother in [name your favorite misaligned Eastern European country, from which this individual comes] I haven’t talked to her in years.”
“You’d do anything, hunh?” says the driver.
“Yes.”
The driver unzips his pants, takes out his cock, and says, “OK, get with it.”
The guy leans over, takes the driver’s cock in his hand, bends down… Read more
WWJD?
What Would Juicy Do?
India Amos: This
The other thing she bid us watch was this, but I suspect rather more people have seen that.
The hat, the shoes, the gloves. The music. Fabulous! Thanks some more, India.
Brandon Hobson: The Levitationist
Just got my copy today. Read it once, this evening. I’m stricken.
If you haven’t gone out there to get it yet, you ought to.
Clusterflock is Diverse
Goat has not passed donkey. Some of us prefer goats, others donkeys. (Thanks, Cindy.)
Me? I prefer snails. (If I’m reading right.)
The Hague Welcome Wagon
From PublicOrgTheory:
It’s always good to have new neighbors here in Den Haag. Seems like it was only yesterday that we were exchanging Bundt cakes with Charles Taylor, and now we have a new semi-permanent resident arriving at the end of the week: Radovan Karadzic….
The Dark Knight
Saw it this afternoon. Anyone else? I’m withholding comment, I’m still mulling it over. I think it may haunt me a couple of days.
Hello in There
I found a link to the Midler piece I referenced in my comment on c’flock. It wasn’t until I remembered it was the lead-in for Hello in There, a song by John Prine, that I found it. Now, this isn’t the exact rendition to which I referred from the live recording I had on 8-track. (I have not heard this for years.) The version I remember was edgy-er (edgier? How the fuck do you spel…? Don’t matter). The first was funnier and all the more poignant because of the edge with which she delivered it. This version has been softened, pablumized. I’d like to think it wasn’t Bette who changed her performance, that it was some soul-less, humor-less somebody from Disney or Corporate related to this broadcast who made her change it to make it more sentimental. Still, there’s something surreal in Emmett Kelly, sitting on the stage, in face. Here it is:
Tao Lin: reading
Picked up from his blog.
For Sheila
And Daryl, who both asked. Daryl first, “What I grow that [we] eat.”
My wee basil, last year by this time they were well on their way to being, by end of season, three feet tall and lush. You can also see Mom’s sage, the chives and if you squint you might see oregano and a couple baby sprigs of Rosemary. (The coral bell, far right, was given to me last year by my employer, kristopher, because it’s called a “Lime Rickey.”)
And for Sheila:
Read more
This World is Not My Home
Purdy much how I recollect it…
Y’all? I sold my car.
Danny and I sold a member of our family for 13 years, the 1995 Ford Escort. We sold it to our friends in Des Moines, who have triplets 16 years old. It’s going to be the boys’ car. They also share a Lumina. “Not a great girl magnet,” was the comment of one of my co-workers. “Still,” I said. “They’re all handsome. And they’re musicians. I don’t think cars will stand in the way of their romantical endeavors.”
Does Everyone Think You’re Gay?
“I wore these new Alain Mikli glasses to work, and it was as if I had worn a dress.”
For Sheila
Thanks for missing me, Sheila. Here’s today: for me.
XOR, y’all.
Thrill Ride
When Attending a Client Function…
…as the representative of the company for which you work, zipper up or down?
Freedom Trilogy
Y’all, the little church choir, in which I tenor, will be attempting this piece come July 6 for the “installation” of our pastor, Scott. (I chose this youtube (the Fort Worth Children’s Choir) over others for the Texans out there, and because I loved watching the conductor.)