Category Archives: you asked

check in

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I feel like lately I have been asked some strange questions that you don’t get asked before you are 40. I’ve been asked if I’m working out more than before, because you know… Metabolism. I’ve been asked if my husband is okay with the extra pounds that forty gave me. I’ve been asked about potty habits and if I’m sad because I’m too old now… To you know… (Hushed voice) have babies.

First of all, NO, I don’t fucking work out more, I don’t work out at all because frankly, I don’t have time. I actually work. Like a job. You know, that place you go to earn money so you can have a roof over your head, and food on your plate, and blankets on your bed and all the techno gadgets that keep you connected to the people you may not even want to talk to but do anyway because… life! And if you are lucky, you have programmed the gadgets (by you I mean the smart tech peoples) not to tell you what the cheeto said this week that is slowly making you cray-town. Otherwise you may throw said gadget and cause yourself to have to work at said job more than you already do. When I find time to work out, I’ll let someone know, and they will find me on the beach where the cabana boy will be bringing me a series of tasty adult beverages and I will be doing some lifts- of those drinks to my mouth.

Second, I don’t have a fucking husband! I am happily NOT married, for ten years, to an amazing, difficult, handsome, exceedingly intelligent, ridiculously emotionally unkempt, absolutely perfectly imperfect human. He loves me in spite of myself. I love him sometimes to spite myself and other times to keep myself sane because he may be the only reason I am. And (third, if we are counting) he hasn’t pressured me to have crotch fruit. He doesn’t need a fuck trophy to mark the decade he’s put up with my crazy ass. He didn’t ask for one at the 5 year mark even though he may have thought they might be a fun adventure. If he does want a trophy- I will totally allow some breeding with a hot sars stand in. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was handsome. Chicks propo him him on the daily (look at me using current jargon) but he doesn’t even give them a second. He comes home and snuggles up… to his not wife (who doesn’t work out). The not wife who has stayed for ten years of things. The things no one else can know. And that is what matters.

Finally… don’t even fucking start with the potty habits. You have no idea what this bitch has been through. I have been sliced and diced and teased about the the cauliflower and apertures… If you haven’t had your brother and your best girl photo texting you pics of things that may look worse than your ass to make you feel better about the sate of your union, well… you can’t step to potty talk with this bitch. So go get yourself a Squatty Potty and call me when you understand how life changing that shit is (oh, yeah… I said that!).

‘Till we next…

TriFecta of Gus

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Everyone has something they say all the time. A drop-line as it were (I just leaned that term, not gonna lie). Me, I just tend to swear… a lot. No really. A. Lot. Most of my friends would say my drop-line is (well, was) ‘Jesus H.’, ever since I read Christopher Moore’s Lamb. That man is a genius. Sometimes I’d go with the full name for umph, you know, like when your mom was pissed and used all three or five of your names, ‘Jesus H. Christ’. Then of course are the variations for effect… christ on a cracker, or christ on a fucking cracker or in a really good moment mutha-fukin-christ on a mutha-fukin-cracker. The christ on a cracker seems to have been adopted by several friends, as have choice other things… and that is an entirely different story.

This, this is really a story of a man named Brady. Okay no it isn’t, but that would be rad right!? Well, actually there is a dog named Brady… but I digress. So one fine eve at the beer drinkin’ writing spot, I was hangin out with Zimm and Grrr. We were discussing life and the finer points of beer as we are want to do over a fine Belgian, IPA or some other high alcohol content beer or six two, and a conversation started about my affinity toward the Jesus Candle. I don’t know if you heard about my love of the Jesus Candle or my quests to find the most amazing possible pieces for my collection but let’s just say the “finger puppet candle” has had a place in my home. As our discussions progressed it was noted that one of my favorite sayings (drop-line) had changed to “Gerald F.”. Probably because I had said it twenty times already and also they were tired of hearing it had no fucking clue where it came from. So I explained…

‘Well ya know how everyone says Jesus H. Christ?’
yeah
‘I was tired of dealing with the dirty looks and all the bullshit that the ‘thumpy peeps’ give plus you can’t just blurt out Jesus H. Christ in front of a bunch of kids so I needed something else to say. I was gonna go with ‘Buddy Christ’ but it doesn’t fix my problem, and frankly George Carlin giving a thumbs up isn’t the attitude I’m looking for… So I came up with ‘Gerald F.’! And to solve the kid-in-trouble action ‘Gerald F. McCracken.’

What??
‘Gerald F. McCraken’. I need a name with uh-thor-i-tie!

The looks of shock and awe were less shock and awesome… and more like – holy shit Sars, you have officially fallen off the deep end.

You haven’t fallen off the deep end and started a cult have you? Did you call Tom Cruise or Oprah Win-e-free and get approval from the MotherShip?? Is there poison in our beer?!?
‘No. I just needed a little word replacement therapy. Jesus H Christ gets a point across. And you know, runnin’ around sayin’ goddamnit all the time just “ain’t christian”.’
Peels of laughter and beer-spray… Um-Kay….
‘But it had to be something strong… with uh-thor-i-tie. ‘Gerald F. McCracken’

and a hush fell over the crowd…..

But then Zimm, my ever faithful beer chemist and friend said… so who are the rest?
‘what do you mean?’
Well you have ‘Gerald F. McCracken’ he’s kinda like “the son”, you know, it’s his title. So who are the rest in your little cult, sorry, group?

At that point I admit I hadn’t given it much thought but the idea was making me smile. I think we needed a Copola style ‘god father’ that would be his title. We started chatting, and it was all down hill from there… First was the decision that all names should start with the same letter.. and there should be three, (because you can’t have proper rock-paper-scissors tourney without three) but we couldn’t call it a trinity, (duh) and so the TriFecta of Gus was born.

‘With Gerald as “the son”, We needed “the father” and only the son has a middle initial. So I think Gus should be “the father”, I like Gus.. Let’s go with Gus. With Gus “the father” and Gerald F. McCracken, “the son”…’
Why Gus??

‘It’s a good name, and short. you know…’
But wait, who was Gerald’s mother?
‘the virgin Connie Swail of course’
mm-hhhmm, mm-hhmm, of course, duh.

Coming up with a third name was not nearly as easy, being mostly drunk didn’t help as much as you’d think. Gene didn’t sound ghostly and really, no one else could come up with any more in our thoroughly beered state, until I said…

‘What about Geoffrey, you know with a “G”? He could be all snooty and British sounding, Gee-off-ree’
What’s his title??
‘huh?’
I think he should be “the holy” Geoffrey. his title should be “the holy”
‘Sounds like a plan to me!!’

And thus it came to pass the TriFecta of Gus was born… Gus “the father”, Gerald F. McCracken ‘the son’ (born to the virgin Connie Swail), and “the holy” Geoffrey. It was glorious! We parted ways with a toast to Gus and felt as though all was right with the world. Maybe it was the 9% beers but I’m going with the holy Geoffrey.

About an hour later my cell rang… this never happens. It was Zimm and he had a question about our newly minted TriFecta that only Zimm & Grrr would come up with.

So Grr was wondering… is Gerald F. the Extra Crispy Saviour? Because you know, the original is already taken.
‘If Grr says it should be so, I’m gonna go with her instinct. I don’t think he’s “popcorn style”. So we revised… Gus “the father”, Gerald F. McCracken ‘the extra-crispy saviour’ (born to the virgin Connie Swail), and “the holy” Geoffrey.’

Great Gus I think I just peed….

posted from my tablet thingy

confessions from Kevin’s couch

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So it would appear there is a bit of a tet-a-tet going between one Social Assassin and myself. This should not be seen as a complaint. I feel rather special to be honest and also a little bad that it has taken so long to respond to his little challenge. Sorry, BIG challenge. As he is one of my favorite unmet friends, that I hope to someday meet… I happily answer the following as my ass has been tapped tagged.

1. Book or movie and why?
I personally hate it when I read a book and then a movie comes out after so I can nit-pick the shit out of it… That being said I will pick a book every time. I just finished the Dragon Tattoo series after watching the whole Swedish series of films and was really impressed by the books. They kept me interested, which is really difficult when you are easily …… is that a pigeon?

2. Real book or e-book?
Real Fucking Books. I, like everyone else on the planet has used an e-reader at this point (okay maybe there is a starving child in Haiti, but let’s not focus on the depressing shall we) but it just isn’t the same. That being said (déjà vu?) I am now willing to acquiesce that they have their place. Who wants to take 6 books on vacation? Unless they are graphic novels and get hot geeky men to pay attention to you. Because I love hot geeky men. Big brains are sexy. Yeah.

3. Funniest thing you’ve done in the last 5 years?
In my efforts to follow the advice of my therapist, head shrinker, blogishere friends and other people I see daily in flesh and blood, I have been working on my penchant for self-deprecation… in this instance however, Fuck that. If you can’t make fun of yourself???

I was sitting at the pub writing, how unusual I know, and this all of 21.5 year old douche frat boy kept looking at me and mumbling. Then he’d look back to his friends until I again felt his eyes on me and again… staring at me with furrowed brow and mumbling. I was getting worried (read pissed) at what could possibly make this douchbag so frustrated since I was sitting there with headphones in writing on a touchpad tablet and not even singing along!! The third time I realized this was happening and he looked like he was fuming I walked over to his table, poked his shoulder and said, “I’m not sure what I’ve done by merely being here to piss you off son, (yeah, I threw out son, I was rad that way) but back the fuck off me.” He looked at me completely bewildered and said “What are you talking about lady?!?” I said you “are shooting me angry stares and I’m not even in your general vicinity. So unless you are having some sort of girlfriend transference issue, or always mumble at girls sitting alone minding their own business – which incidentally will never get you laid and you need all the help you can get (yes I said that) back the fuck off me.” I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t being as quiet as I should be and I had conveniently missed the fact that 4 of my friends (mechanics and the dudes who showed me this place and taught me about beer) were in a corner booth.

At this point he looks up at me, squints and says, “listen I am not sure what your fucking issue is but, the fucking Lakers are losing and you are blocking my view of the TV.” …that happened to be conveniently located above my head on the wall. Yeah. I have an incredible awareness of my surroundings. So when my friends burst into laughter… I deserved every second. They remind me of this every time they see me at that table, so does the bartender and the waitress.

4. Do you put yourself into the books you read/write or the movies you watch?
Uh no… I am not like Lisbeth Salander in any way and though I can be a tough bitch, I hate math, have nothing close to a photographic memory and would probably have died at least 5 times in the first book. I am also not an alien, zombie, soldier, crazy megalomaniac, early 19th century farmer or his fucked up sons, or zen philosopher… I could go on but I just do not have that kind of imagination.

5. How would your best friend describe you?
I am really bad at figuring out what anyone would say about me. I have a hard time seeing myself the way other’s do unless it’s flaws or failures. (I know that’s shitty, I’m working on it and took a compliment just last night… I see a shrink for a reason bitches!) So I’m changing the question to ‘How would your friends describe you… then asking them. One of them got back to me so apparently “I’m kind of a big deal” well something like that:

“Sars is one of the best listeners and advice givers I know! Empathy isn’t something you can fake and Sars doesn’t have to try to. You may be in a crowded bar but in her eyes you are the only people there. A true blue, ride or die friend-she is great!”

uuuummmm…… I would never have thought to write this about myself.

“quick-witted, sassy, loving/nurturing, firm, level headed, stressy.” (I love stressy, kinda like sassy but not really.) And I’m gonna remember that level headed thing the next time I fly off the handle and get all wishy washy : o funny, patient, smart, loyal, loves shoes (lol), good cook, great at talking people (and by people I mean me) off the ledge…kind, generous, a true friend”

or this… *sniffle* wipes nose on sleeve.

6. Favorite kind of car and why?
Bar none… Range Rover Sport. This vehicle is so awesome that Top Gear has used it to challenge a Tank… (yes, a fucking cannon shooting, I ride on dam track thinggys- tank) Now, I am no fucking soccer mom and I would drive the shit out of that thing. I would take it off road and get it dirty and then be comfy and cozy as I do philanthropic works and volunteer to stuff and things with the underprivileged. Because you pretty-much need disposable income to own one. I currently drive an amazing little Mazda3 (6 speed Manual – oh hells yeah). Two days later it is all that I wanted from a car since I am not rich and famous and don’t have a sugar daddy to give me my Range Rover. If you need more reasons, you don’t know cars and have never seen Top Gear (for shame): so here:

[youtube]http://youtu.be/ot6dL2mlO7c[/youtube]

[youtube]http://youtu.be/-wKfpPrRVIo[/youtube]

The Rubicon is calling my name now and I need a moment alone.

7. Would your choice of party be a catered meal or barbecue out back?
Since both the man and I have been cooks somewhere – he far longer than I, we like to do dinner at the house for friends. I am more the baker and breakfast/brunch maker and he is more the dinner/I can whip something up out of some mustard, a jar of capers, half a chicken breast and 2 brussels sprouts. I’m a planner. We like the bbqing and California is probably the best place in the world to live for it. Although I will admit, since I hate doing dishes, a nice dinner out on occasion is just lovely. Or bring me a maid. I’m cool either way.

8. What’s your favorite season and why?

because you can do this in the summer

When there is sun and warmth and clear skies, that is my favorite season. The season where I can wear a tank top and not a sweater, flip-flops and not boots.

 

[youtube]http://youtu.be/U8voypJbQcA[/youtube]

9. What specific lesson have you learned – Spiritual, educational, occupational?
Educational : Never let anyone else decide for you. Wherever you want to go to school so that you will find a path that makes you happy… then do it. If someone is your friend and honestly cares for you they will support your decision. Be it a tech school, trade school, university or certification program… go. Then don’t stop learning.

Occupational: Sometimes being treated poorly is just stress on the part of a person who lacks understanding. If you can rise above it and have patience you will learn and probably teach at the same time. And don’t trade stability for what seems like and easy fix to a stressful situation, you may be shoving your head into a lions open mouth.

Spiritual : I agree with Kevin that spirituality or religion can cause a shit storm of issues in life. Especially since they are two different things..I used to be a super religious person who also happened to have a healthy grasp on my spirituality. I have learned that the best way to ruin a person’s spirit is cram religion down their throat. I think the best way to describe what I’ve learned and how I feel is two fold:
I think ‘we have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.’* And I also think that maybe Buddha was right in that “all life is suffering” but I don’t think we have to suffer to live.

I believe in Bacon!

*attributed to Jonathan Swift

10. Besides writing, what’s your favorite thing to do when you get some extra time?
I agree with Kevin (again) that listening to music is one of my favorite things. Getting lost in a song or finding something new is glorious. But when I have time, I love to share. Time, food, drink, tears, music, laughter, friendship, solace, whatever is necessary to connect with my friends. We are so busy and so cyber connected that we forget to put down the fucking gadgets and look each other in the eye. We are forgetting how to be with each other in a real way. And that is my favorite thing to do, spend time with those I care for.

11. What’s one place you can be found at least one time every week?
I don’t have an answer for this question. That is a sad admission for me to make. It is one, however, I am working to change in a very real way. If I had answered this 5 or 6 months ago I could have said the pub where I write, the gym or the favorite coffee shop, any number of places. Right now I can’t say that. I can say home and work. Maybe in a couple months I’ll have a better answer for this. Today it is what it is.

I’m supposed to make others do this now but I’m just gonna leave you with this… and go find a kleenex while I print what my friends wrote in 76pt font to paste on my walls.

rainbows and kittens bitches