Lit blog

[Angeline]

day-um!

o thanks. Like I wasn't already paralyzed with lust today. You have to exacerbate it.

rrrrr.

bj

I know! And he's got the cutest English accent, too. Yum!

 

[Angeline]

My week-old, apology flowers are still fresh on the kitchen table. I sat them there to go with the apology meat. Hugo is a good man but an occasional Jim Beam butthole. He swears he'll never drink the stuff again -- especially after last night's attitude. When he woke up this morning, he knew he had screwed up. Then he read my emails and he knew he was really screwed! What could he do to fix this problem? First, he shaved his balls. Why? I had no idea why... until later.

Hugo had already sent apology flowers the week before. He knows my love of meat and I even told him, "Next time I want meat!" I knew that meat would arrive today.

The first part of the day was quiet. No calls, no emails, no meat. Don't fail me, Hugo. I took a shower and curled my hair. I wanted to look good for Hugo, who better damn well show up at my house -- with meat.

I walked down the hill to my mom's to drop off a box of junk, so she could check it out before taking it to goodwill. She likes to make sure there isn't something there she could use, like a tupperware lid. A few minutes later, I was back in my house, checking my emails. Nothing. Then I took my schnoodle outside. That's when I found the package on my front porch. It was meat.

I didn't know they had meat delivery around here. Then I saw the SUV driving slowly away from my house. A moment later my cell rang. "There's something for you on the front porch." Hugo drove around the block and parked in front of the house. My man approached me like a boy. I would only allow the bad boy to kiss my nose.

We talked.

Then he cleaned my oven and cooked the meat. Apology meat tastes so good.

That's a lovely still life you have as your profile pic. A whole little narrative there.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Sometimes it's Weirdo Day at the Shop.

Today a very average looking guy came in and wandered around for a while. Nothing exceptional about him except a certain vibe, which I've learned to recognize.

this guy has something to ask me and he's going to wait until these other customers leave... *sigh* okay.

"Thanks," he says, making like he's going to actually go away.

"Thanks for coming in," I say. He wanders back over to my desk. shit. I talked to him. Now I'm doomed.

"SooKOOMbee are attacking me in my sleep," he says, with a really odd smile.

That's a new one. But wait...

"Do you mean SUCCUBI?" I say, feeling extremely doomed.

"Um, yeah. Is that how you say it?"

"Yes, that's how you say it."

"They're really pretty and beautiful at first and then they turn all ugly and scary."

do they now. I had a couple of girlfriends like that.

I gave him my standard riff. You wouldn't think I'd have a standard riff on sookoombee attacks, but sadly, I do.

It has to do with chemical imbalances, frustration, the medulla oblongata, seeing a therapist and doing some simple rituals of house blessing within your own belief system, whatever that may be.

yup. Just doing my Job.

*sigh*

 

[Tzara]

Apology meat tastes so good.

I have to admit I am stunned you have had no tasteless jokes made about this line as yet. Being at least some kind of simulacrum of a gentleman, I will refrain from making one.

For the moment, anyway.

 

[Tzara]

Odd things about California hotels, case 1531

The drain on the bathroom sink in my room is neatly wrapped in some very thick insulation.

I guess someone wants to keep that wastewater nice and warm.

 

[bogusbrig]

I think I'm starting to realize my life time ambition, I'm turning BoHo. Most of each afternoon I'm in a small bar down by the old harbour discussing art, poetry, philosophy and putting the world to rights with fellow customers who range from journalists, lawyers, doctors, artists, poets, musicians and all sorts of 'ne'er do wells' (even groupies!) with similar interests. I've been allowed the luxury of this indulgence because I'm flush, by having an exhibition where I've made more than a few euro. I can even afford some new jeans and tee shirts as well as more canvas and printing plates. Life is good in BoHo-land.

 

[WickedEve]

I have to admit I am stunned you have had no tasteless jokes made about this line as yet. Being at least some kind of simulacrum of a gentleman, I will refrain from making one.

For the moment, anyway.

Well... he had a lot of apologizing to do, so you can take the line either way.

 

[normal jean]

\..............

 

[Angeline]

I'm usually such an optimist

so I should say I feel half alive, but I'm not in a Pollyanna mood, so I'll say I feel half dead. I've had this fluey thing for over a week, and I knew my sinuses were kicking up and getting ready to party, but I was trying to ignore them. They're holes in your head, for God's sake, why do they cause so much trouble?

And ee has has it, too. He got sick the day before me, so we've both been sneezing and hacking and generally making ugly noices. The night I got it we had pork chops for dinner and I was really sick to my stomach then. ee wasn't; the chops were cooked right. So Tuesday night we had pork chops again. They were cooked right and really good--and these two times are the first we've had pork chops in years. I never think to make them because we never ate them when I was a kid. We weren't kosher, but we never ate pork except the occasional Sunday bacon and ham at Easter. Go figure.

And right after those second pork chops, I got seriously sick. I couldn't stop puking and heaving. I'd try to sleep but I kept running to the bathroom. Sigh. Around 12:30 I told ee I was calling 911, and he got all pissed at me lol and said "No way! If you're that sick I'm taking you and staying there with you." Whatta guy he is. He even fell on the goddamn ice in the hospital parking lot after dropping me at the E-Room, and he cut up his hand and didn't even bitch about it. He's such a mensch you people just don't know.

But they gave me the best drugs in the hospital (gotta love those E-Room drugs) and I floated into a blissful daze/doze while they ran tests and x-rayed me and such. They put us in a private room with a tv, so at least ee could watch cnn. And the upshot is I got a stomach flu and sinusitis and bronchitis that is turning into pnemonia, which really isn't that bad even though you feel horrible. I just need to rest and take a bunch of drugs.

Do you think this is a message from God? Angeline! No pork chops! Remember thy commandments or I shall smite thee with a mighty puking.

I think maybe yes!

So I can't do much now but sleep and drink gatorade and watch tv. That's ok because this whole presidential campaign fascinates me: it has all the elements of a Shakesperian tragedy. Lust, greed, deception, halls of mirrors of machinations. This morning it's like watching Macbeth instead of McCain. So I guess I'll be fine, might even try to eat some real food later. For those of you who read this I apologize for it not being interesting like a Wicked Eve blog. No dildos and African Art here, just lots of Puffs and soup and crackers. Just move along now and write a poem.

 

[champagne1982]

Angeline! No pork chops! Remember thy commandments or I shall smite thee with a mighty puking.

I have never been responsible for knowingly passing on a recipe for pork chops to either a Muslim or Hebrew, although I have been guilty of referring to tasty sausages. Oh!
Wait, that wasn't in relation to food though. I guess I still get to go to paradise.

 

[WickedEve]

Do you think this is a message from God? Angeline! No pork chops! Remember thy commandments or I shall smite thee with a mighty puking.

I think maybe yes!

For those of you who read this I apologize for it not being interesting like a Wicked Eve blog. No dildos and African Art here, just lots of Puffs and soup and crackers. Just move along now and write a poem.

Oh, please! What's more interesting than pork, puke, and messages from God!
Sorry you're such a mess. It's that time of the year, I guess. I told you that we're all sick here, too. One kid with strep throat, one throwing up, dog barfing, I have strep and pink eye and the furnace broke. And I didn't even eat pork. lol But things are improving now.
Hey, at least you have ee to take care of you.

 

[Angeline]

Oh, please! What's more interesting than pork, puke, and messages from God!
Sorry you're such a mess. It's that time of the year, I guess. I told you that we're all sick here, too. One kid with strep throat, one throwing up, dog barfing, I have strep and pink eye and the furnace broke. And I didn't even eat pork. lol But things are improving now.
Hey, at least you have ee to take care of you.

He went out and got me stuff twice today. I am a mess. But he really loves me, god help him.

When's Hugo going to fix your furnace? (And why does that sound obscene to me?)

 

[WickedEve]

He went out and got me stuff twice today. I am a mess. But he really loves me, god help him.

When's Hugo going to fix your furnace? (And why does that sound obscene to me?)

It fixed now and it's... um... hot.

 

[Angeline]

It fixed now and it's... um... hot.

I knew I could count on you for an snappy answer.

This is like our little virtual neighborhood, you know? I often feel like we're two biddies, gossiping over the fence. And it's all so normal, except for the poetry and the dildos. And the person two yards over is naked and getting their ass wapped. Pornville.

 

[WickedEve]

I knew I could count on you for an snappy answer.

This is like our little virtual neighborhood, you know? I often feel like we're two biddies, gossiping over the fence. And it's all so normal, except for the poetry and the dildos. And the person two yards over is naked and getting their ass wapped. Pornville.

Like in saran wrapped?
Oh, Hugo sounded like a gossipy old lady last night. He was fussing about some teenage girl that came over to his house with her boyfriend (Hugo has a teenage son who has some game called rock band) and he went on and on about how she had too much makeup and skimpy clothes. He called her a bimbo, then said, "I bet she's already pregnant!" He was all worked up and said she couldn't come back. I told him the only thing he didn't say was bless her heart.

 

[Angeline]

Like in saran wrapped?
Oh, Hugo sounded like a gossipy old lady last night. He was fussing about some teenage girl that came over to his house with her boyfriend (Hugo has a teenage son who has some game called rock band) and he went on and on about how she had too much makeup and skimpy clothes. He called her a bimbo, then said, "I bet she's already pregnant!" He was all worked up and said she couldn't come back. I told him the only thing he didn't say was bless her heart.

Oh men love to gossip as much as we do. I'm convinced. Lord knows eagleyez loves him some good gossip. And so does darkmaas! I was just gossiping with him today. He's great fun to gossip with.

But you're the best baby!

 

[darkmaas]

Surely there is a difference between gossip and a polite exchange of ideas.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

What about swapping germs under the washing line? It's all good.

Get well you sick-os.

XXXX

 

[Angeline]

Surely there is a difference between gossip and a polite exchange of ideas.

And that difference is...? Laughing and good cheer? Gossip is fun! Who doesn't love a good gossip session? Ok, maybe not John McCain today, but everyone else!

Nice to see you Fred. Would you consider replacing your erm head apparel with a Red Sox World Champs cap?

 

[Angeline]

What about swapping germs under the washing line? It's all good.

Get well you sick-os.

XXXX

I think you were the neighbor two yards away. But you were doing the whapping.

 

[darkmaas]

Would you consider replacing your erm head apparel with a Red Sox World Champs cap?

Highly unlikely, for two reasons:

a) Several years ago, in order to simplify my life (and sock drawer), I took to stocking only black socks. (Note the use of the Canadian spelling of "sox".) This made dressing in the morning faster and laundry sorting easier. Today I no longer own any red socks (if ever I did). A Red Socks hat strikes me as, if not false advertizing, at least disingenuous.

b) You must accept that outside of Toronto, which is to say in the civilized parts of Canada, baseball is a game played by children and people at office picnics and has a sporting 'status' only slightly above horseshoes.

 

[Angeline]

Highly unlikely, for two reasons:

a) Several years ago, in order to simplify my life (and sock drawer), I took to stocking only black socks. (Note the use of the Canadian spelling of "sox".) This made dressing in the morning faster and laundry sorting easier. Today I no longer own any red socks (if ever I did). A Red Socks hat strikes me as, if not false advertizing, at least disingenuous.

b) You must accept that outside of Toronto, which is to say in the civilized parts of Canada, baseball is a game played by children and people at office picnics and has a sporting 'status' only slightly above horseshoes.

I regret that baseball is more highly rated than a game involving the foot apparel of creatures so dear to your heart. On the other hand, I am gladdened to discover that your personal foot apparel is so tastefully neutral.

Of course, compromise is always a possibility.

 

[champagne1982]

Pffft, d'maas. In these parts, it's soft ball, slo pitch or outdoor, no-real-rules volleyball. If you want baseball you'll have to go to The Gateway to the North city, south of here, to find the sad remnants of what was once an actually quite robust baseball culture.

The owners of the Pacific Coast League decided, in their infinite wisdom and much to the geographic chagrine of Edmontonians everywhere, that our member team had no business locating itself in the middle of a transitional prairie/boreal forest river valley and moved them southwest to (I think) Seattle. Now, a semi-pro team plays on weekends and closet baseball fans have been relegated back amidst their stored pennants and big #1 gloves, to watch their sport on tv and eat packaged weenies.

I'd rather play beer-infused volleyball anyway.

 

[darkmaas]

Exactly my point....

Pffft, d'maas. In these parts, it's soft ball, slo pitch or outdoor, no-real-rules volleyball. If you want baseball you'll have to go to The Gateway to the North city, south of here, to find the sad remnants of what was once an actually quite robust baseball culture.

....

I'd rather play beer-infused volleyball anyway.

I am always up for some beer infusion. I believe it's Kokanee for you and I'll have a Grasshopper. ClinkClink.

 

[champagne1982]

I am always up for some beer infusion. I believe it's Kokanee for you and I'll have a Grasshopper. ClinkClink.

How very civilized!

Later, how about some neon-bowling (five pin, of course)? °º°·hic!☺▫·°°˚·∞hic