April 2005 Dribblings

Category: dribblings

4.27.05
did anyone else watch the Yankees get their asses handed to them by the Angels?
i mean, what? you guys have one good game and decide to quit?
if i were George i’d tell the pitchers that they better start earnin’. gaad.

***

oh the poor kitty. i accidentally scared Toonces Whorecat today. i was running the sweeper and i thought she was outside. she wasn’t. so when i swept under my bed i was startled by a cat running out the other side jumping 6 feet in the air onto the top of the screen door, with such force that the door opened, and then jumping off and out the slamming door. this happened in like, one second. it took about an hour to get her back inside. even then she wouldn’t go near my room. and she kept hanging around jimmy and not me. and she hates jimmy.

she hates jimmy because he’s mean to her. he calls her names and won’t let her sit on his lap. one day he even called her gay.
“toonces, you stupid gay kitty.”
“what?! she is NOT GAY. toonces, don’t listen to the bad man. we love you. and, if you are gay? we still love you. we love you because you’re you.”
“that’s also why we hate you.”
“no! *hitting jimmy* hater! toonces, attack!”

jimmy is mean and you should all go to the message board and tell him so.

in fact, he just called me and said, “what are you doing?”
“i’m blogging about how you hate the cat.”
“i don’t hate you!”
“i said the CAT.”
“oh. yeah i hate her.”
“you are so mean!”
“your cat is a freak!”
“no way!”
“she runs and hides if you so much as sneeze!”
“she’s a ‘special needs’ kitty.”
“she’s retarded alright.”
“no! she’s just old and nervous.”
“she didn’t used to be.”
“well she didn’t used to be old either.”
“she’s a freak.”
“no!”
“she’s a narcissist. she thinks the world revolves around her.”
“no, she doesn’t. well, i mean, yeah. she’s a cat. that’s what cats do.”

reefer log:
too fat polka
eddy’s famous ice cream
alternate ending for romeo and juliet
the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy would be a good alt ending for romeo and juliet.
sweetie ring tone
fetuses
funny pictures of bumble bees
rattlesnake sex
jesus pickle
whoa lady
big joe polka show

oh, and what was with yesterday’s RL? “shirley jackson and the holocaust”? what?!

4.26.05
old people.

i was at the Holy House today and an old lady walked up to me and said, “what color is your hair today?”
i said, “yellow.” as she SNATCHED THE BASEBALL CAP OFF MY HEAD.
“hee hee,” she cooed and patted my face. only she didn’t “pat” my face. it was one of those, like in the movies when the old person pats the kid’s face…a little too hard? not quite a slap, but also, not a pat. yeah. to me. how old am i?
my life is a movie.
and i’m not getting enough money for it.

***

Cowboy Zydeco mentioned that he’s doing some kind of video game thing (i’m a girl) with Hansel and Gretel. well, my brother and i love the looney tunes cartoon when bugs bunny saves hansel and gretel from witch hazel. it cracks me up how the kids scarf the food. and how they’re blonde haired and blue eyed. and i couldn’t find a picture but i did find these sounds (thanks to the Looney Tunes SoundSource.)
my name is gretel…
hansel?…
kids eating

the only picture i could find:

what a crazy cartoon. why is it i can remember that stuff so easily, but i can’t remember important things like, where my 2003 tax return is, where did i hide those savings bonds, and where is my other blue argyle sock?!

reefer log:
corn poopy
pickle eating old men
popes ring and scarf
chasing far rah
funny fetus
whore caught in the act
i don’t want her you can have her
she’s too fat for me
painter named roma
shirley jackson and the holocaust
give them the pickle
greek gypsy with a monkey

***

4.25.05
updated 50 Books.

so. locusts, huh? slackers. i don’t think they even tried.

listen, that movie was awful. not that i thought it was going to be great or anything, but at least make it make some sense.

the very first scene dad says, “nope. it’s already hokey.”
“why?”
“those two people are too gorgeous.”
“you’re right.”
“i mean, look at that guy.”
“trust me, i am. i think i found a new john stamos.”
“huh?”
“nothing.”
“are you sure that’s xena?”
“pretty sure, dad.”
“this guy is a tool. he’s whining. he’s married to that beautiful lady and he complains?”
“i think he would look better if they didn’t have his hair slicked back. it makes him seem even more toolish.”

later on, “ah, see? i told you. his hair is better now.”
“i can’t tell if they still love each other or if they’re getting a divorce.”
“i know! what is it with the hot and cold?! and it’s him! why does he have to be all oogy?”
“and what’s with her dad?”
“and why aren’t the locusts eating people?”

***

today i washed my jeep, and replaced the wipers. then dad and i cleaned out mom’s two fish ponds. oy. what a pain. the hardest part was catching the fish; the rest was just gross. dad picked them up with his bare hands! ew! i wasn’t able to do that. once i had them in the bucket of water i was able to reach my hand in there and ew! they feel gross. bah.

also today there was some plumbing drama. dad knows a great plumber though, so it wasn’t too bad.

***

on thursday we are painting in t’ville. what? i know. but the guy was all, “we must have one room painted on thursday. name your price.” so i guess we’re trekking it on thursday. it’s mostly out of intrigue.

reefer log:
popes rings
coulter kitchens akron ohio
deep fired okra fired?
cow sling
history of tybalt
juliet stabbing herself picture
locust movie wrong cbs
foreign tv shows
wolf agotta
jimmy dean sausage
freddy couples
lucy lawless locusts body
gypsy mythology

4.24.05
where is Cowboy Zydeco?! hello?! Cowboy Dewayne Zydeco? where are you? did that video game suck you in? and now you can’t talk to us regular mortals who don’t play that game? you haven’t updated your blog in weeks. please come back. don’t make me sic the locusts on you.

in today’s entry i make fun of polka (again), lesbians, black people, nebraska, myself, fat people, polka, fetuses (fetusii? feti? fetusases?) greeks, babies, and polka.

i had mr. fleegan watch the Big Joe Polka Show with me last night. i think he liked it. he asked many questions. some of them i had answers to.

“does big joe play any of the polka songs?”
“i don’t think so. he just sits there and… breathes.”

“he doesn’t dance?”
“can you see him dancing? it would kill him.”

“is this from the ’70s?”
“nope.”
“are you sure?”
“pretty sure.”
“but look at their clothes.”
“oh i know, trust me, they’ve had those clothes since the ’70s and before. but no, it’s recent.”
“no way.”
“yes way.”

“do you know any polka songs?”
“uh, just one or two. probably the same ones you know.”
“i don’t know any polka songs!”
“c’mon, everyone knows the Beer Barrel Polka.”
“oh yeah.”
“and then there’s Who Stole The Kishka. and also the Too Fat Polka.”
“too fat polka?”
“yeah. dad used to sing it all the time when we were kids, didn’t yours?”
“…”
“oh. right.”
“how does it go?”
“er. something like, ‘i don’t want her; you can have her; she’s too fat for me! hay! she’s too fat for me. hay!’. i used to think that was so funny.”
“you’re making that up.”
“heh. no, i’m not.”
like i could make that up? the truth is stranger than fiction, my friends.

“hey. i just noticed something. there’s no black people.”
“well, i think it’s taped in nebraska or something. there’s no black people in nebraska. but more importantly, black people don’t polka.”

“hey look! lesbians!”
“jimmy, no. nebraska, remember? they’re probably sisters or something. just because you see two ugly women dancing together doesn’t mean they’re gay.”

“where did polka come from?”
“it’s an eastern european thing. like poland, czechoslovakia…but the one that’s playing right now sounds like a mariachi band doesn’t it?”
“isn’t that ring of fire?”
“yi-yi-yi-yi!”

“hey jimmy!”
“no.”
“but-”
“no.”
“oh, come on. we should totally learn how to polka.”
“well, it doesn’t look hard.”
“let’s polka!”
“okay.”

so we got up and did the Fleegan Polka. i’m sure it sounded like a herd of bison was in my kitchen. i wonder what liznchris thought. probably, “what the hell are they doing? herding bison?”

***

i got this picture in the e-mail box the other day.

there’s a stamp on the baby’s forehead. and i thought, “aw, hey cute, they got a baby in the mail, aw. babies come from the United States Post Office. that’s so cute, aw.”
but no! ‘cos see?! the flag is up! they’re SENDING the baby! WRONG BABY! SEND IT BACK!

reefer log:
pics of poopy pants gross
big sausage pizza gross
greek curses they’re the same as english curses only with pointier letters. !#@$! in greek looks like: e??????? p????!
fetus 3 months gross
big joe beno gross
jaimie king it’s queen, you fools!
rewrite ending romeo and juliet gross! die!
rosemary clooney
silver gay dad and dad

4.23.05

of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy previews i’ve seen (2), i’m left with a nervous question:
is that zaphod? and if so, where’s his other head and arm?
i am SO excited about this movie, and also, i’m quite scared. because deep down in my mushy, girlie heart, i know that they are going to screw this up. i just hope they remember that it’s all about the dialogue and not about being an action film.
yeah, i know. it hasn’t got a prayer.

***

i love stuff like this (thanks, tami!). makes me laugh. that music makes just makes you so happy, for a bit, and then it’s like…okay this crap is old and must die now. not unlike the Vengaboys. don’t get me wrong, it has it’s place.
…gay bars?

***

does anyone else think that marianne faithfull is the female david bowie?

***

the other day laura was talking about how she calls a curling iron a curling wand and that no one else in our “group” of “friends” calls it that. i run into that crap all the time, mostly with pronunciation. i have that midwestern goober sound. like, my friends say nevahdah, and i say nevaadaa. coloraado.
but sometimes i am teased for saying things that i don’t think are wrong exactly. like, i was teased by laura and mr. fleegan because i say Grapico. they say it Grape-uh-co. mines more like, Grape-ee-co. they were all, “aw, isn’t that cute?” i couldn’t tell a difference at first so i had this conversation with jimmy:
“what? all i said was Grapico.”
“ha! that’s so funny!”
“what?! how do you say it?”
“Grapico.”
“that’s what i said!”
“no you said Grapico.”
“i know!”
“but i said Grapico.”
“that’s what i said!”
and so on and so on. i finally see the “difference” but really, i say it so fast i don’t see how anyone picked up on it.

today laura and i were discussing the new caramel filled junior mints (stick with the mint ones, m’kay?), and laura asked if they were any good. i said, “eh, kinda like a Rollo.” and she’s all, “ha. you say Rah-llo. i say Roe-llo.”
i do call them rah-llos. i got to thinking about it, and i guess they probably are supposed to be called roe-llo. weird, huh? well, it’s not like anyone eats those anyway. oh, i like them. i just never buy them for some reason. do they still make them?

jimmy has gotten used to me saying that i’ve run the sweeper, but he loses it when i say oregon or buttons or rotten. somethings i just pronounce like a dork. bad habit.


reefer log:
baes fucking
i need an o
the popes in the pizza with the silver spoon…
pics of euthanasia sicko
light baes
joe beno polka! polka!
cbs locusts april 24
iraq paramedics
bastille painting
really really hard sex the two reallys got me.
salamanders
how long king cobras live
popsicle puzzles is that like a Chinese F*ck Puzzle?
pickle girl me!
kill lizards
pbs kids
waether in iraq
big joe polka show sweet! took 6 days!

4.22.05
new weekly

the cover of the latest Cabinet magazine is kinda wigging me out. i love Cabinet. i think it’s pretty smart. i think i’d like to work for that magazine. yes, i’m sure i would.

from their website i followed this link. where they take classic literature and put your name in it instead of the real character’s name. apparently Romeo and Juliet is a fairly popular choice. but i was thinking how odd that is seeing as how they both die at the end…suicides no less. but not to worry. they “thought” of everything.

The ultimate romantic, wedding, anniversary or mother’s day gift — now available in a personalized “happy ending” edition, with optionally your pictures on the cover!It’s the way Romeo and Juliet should have been – true love with a personal twist!

what the-? no! but wait, IT’S EVEN MORE MINDNUMBINGLY STUPID THAN I THOUGHT.

What’s more, if you choose the Happy Ending Version a new scene is added with an unexpected plot twist — the lovers live happily ever after! A short scene is added after Act V Scene III. It turns out the apothecary’s poison didn’t work and Romeo survives, and Juliet’s stabbing of herself merely made her pass out. (With sincere apologies to William Shakespeare, Mercutio and Tybalt!)

“sincere apologies”, what? oh hey, listen, do not apologize if you don’t mean it. and trust me, YOU DON’T MEAN IT. ‘COS IF YOU DID? YOU WOULDN’T BE PRINTING THIS CRAP. PS, WHO CAME UP WITH THAT GENIUS ENDING? HOPEFULLY IT WAS ONE OF THE MONKEYS WITH A TYPEWRITER, HUH? BECAUSE IF AN ACTUAL HUMANBEING CAME UP WITH THAT? I’D SAY WE HAVE GROUNDS FOR A PUNCH TO THE THROAT.

“hey sam, we need an alternate ending for Romeo and Juliet.”
“really? i have an idea about a spaceship-”
“no, nothing so fancy as that. we just need the two lovers to uh, live at the end.”
“ooh. that’s a toughie, ralph.”
“yeah.”
“okay, well, how about Romeo wakes up and-”
“how?”
“well, the poison was uh, mixed wrong. so it’s not as potent. he just gets a nap and a bellyache.”
“m’kay. well, but what about juliet? she uh…stabs herself.”
“oh well hey, no problem. she uh…she passes out. and then Romeo wakes up with a stomach ache and saves her. tourniquet or something.”
“tourniquet, huh? tourniquet? TOURNIQUET?! SHE STABS HER OWN HEART! WE’RE DOOMED!”
“well, okay, see, what if okay, here. what if she has a, now stay with me here okay? she has a, her lucky deck of playing cards in her shirt pocket, huh? so the knife doesn’t go in too far, see?”
“playing cards? did they even-”
“oh better yet, see. Romeo gave her the cards earlier in the play, see? like a gift, right? so it’s like, he saves her, you know?”
“well, okaaay. was the shirt pocket even invented back then?”
“i dunno, see? but who cares? the idiots buying this crap have probably never read it in the first place. now, i was thinking about this spaceship…”

do you know what’s sad? i could’ve written dialogue for sam and ralph all night long. get it? sam and ralph? the sheep dog and the wolf from looney tunes? because there’s not an original bone in my body.

****

speaking of classic literature…

remember Huckleberry Finn? okay, now remember the slave, Jim? okay. good. now, put on your thinking hats. do you remember anything about Jim having this weird lucky hairball thing? that he got from a horse or cow or something? it’s like a rare, gross voodoo thing? please? please tell me this is real and that i didn’t dream this. forum me, and i’ll love you forever.

because i was talking about this with my fam and they looked at me like i was some strange freak who was trying to rewrite the ending to Romeo and Juliet.
“what?” i asked, “you mean you don’t know ANYTHING about that weird lucky hairball thing?”
“…”
“this rings no bells? none of you?”
“…”
“please stop looking at me like i’m a lenny. i don’t want your pity.”

4.21.05

tami sparks sent me a present that her special man friend scottie made for me. and let me just say very loudly, I LOVE MY PRESENT, SCOTTIE!


scottie is rooting for the locusts…

and as if that picture wasn’t funny and awesome enough, there’s an awesome BONUS PICTURE!


…and so is xena. it’s all about fighting for the “greater good”, y’all.

the way i see it, the score so far is Locusts: 2, Humanity: 0.

locust log:
book about popes an illustrated book about popes?
what is the most popular flavor for a pop
hello kitty air force ones sometimes, i am ashamed of america
elephant mound see also: ann coulter
biting grasshoppers
bees swarm fighting
lizards of iraq great band name

4.19.05
what?

you won’t believe me, but i swear it’s the truth. today the lady calls dad complaining that she can’t get into that house because i’ve locked all the doors and i have the key.

i realize that i’ll never win. never. ever never. i should probably just go ahead and sell out humanity to the space robots.

Dear Space Robots,

Over here! *waves arms*

Love,
Jaimie Pickle

only 5 more days until Locusts! i’m rooting for the locusts. like, with a big foam finger that says Locusts are #1! on it. why do i want the locusts to win? because of people like her. i believe i’ve mentioned my complete and utter hatred of that bitch before. what i don’t understand is that, if everyone who has ever read anything she’s ever said or written can tell immediately that she’s completely and totally insane…how does she still have a job? or get book deals? she’s crazy. and i don’t mean it in a funny way. i’m serious. i’m afraid of her.

and you know what else i don’t get? people think she’s pretty.
really? i mean, yes, she’s blonde; yes, she’s skinny. but also? a rattlesnake with a blonde wig is skinny and blonde. and, in case you’re not getting what i’m saying? ann coulter is a snake. A CRAZY SNAKE.

enough, enough. i could bitch about that crazy, vitriol-spewing gorgon all night…and still not feel any better. oh! but did you see where the article mentions she’s been engaged 3 times but never married? gee, i can’t imagine why she’s never been married. oh wait. no. i can totally see why. but i’m not such a mean person that i hope that she stays alone and terribly, terribly, suicide-inducingly lonesome forever. nay, i am ALL HEART. in fact, i hope she gets to marry soon. and i hope he’s a crazy, right-wing neoconfundie just like her. and? i hope he keeps her barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen where women belong.

or no, maybe she’ll finally find the love of her life. the love she can’t live without because she’s finally found the other half of her soul….and it’s a lady. whoa, whoa, whoa she’s a lady.

hee. i actually do feel better now.
because i’m shallow and hateful and for the love, c’mon you stupid locusts! hurry!

reefer log:
name the parts of the snare drum
giant strawberries
hot water stingers
rosemary coolney what? i was drinking, right?
funny popes names
ancient gypsies curses
nicotine off painted walls i don’t know what to tell you. that stuff is like grease and wax. you could try washing the walls, but it’s just gonna make a mess. we just put 3 coats of paint over it. i know.
no poop flags hm?

4.18.05
i would forget about my head if it wasn’t sewed on my neck.
is that how that goes? i dunno. all i’m trying to say in a fancy way is: i’m an idiot.

so i had to work by myself today. popsicle was sick. so i paint at this place and it’s an empty house because the folks haven’t moved in yet. so i paint and then i leave and i lock the front door with the key and go home.

later on mr. fleegan and i go to the movie show. i didn’t take my cell phone ‘cos
A. movie and
B. the battery was soon to die.

i get home and i’ve got 3 messages.
i mean, hell. no one ever calls me. and now i’ve got 3 damn messages.

one of the messages was the lady with the house (it’s not her house. it’s her daughter’s house. still, it’s empty.) she’s all, “jaimie, i notice there’s a light on in the house? are you still painting? i’m going to check it out and make sure the doors are locked. do you have the key?”

the next message was left 25 minutes later, it’s Popsicle, “jaimie. the lady called. i’m going to kill you.”

so i call dad:
“hey, am i fired?”
“heh. no. but i’m going to kill you.”
“whatido?”
“you left the kitchen light on.”
“ah. punishable by death, i suppose?”
“and the back door unlocked.”
“hm. that one’s more serious. or, it would be if the house was in MY neighborhood.”
“yeah.”
“was she pissed? are we fired?” i asked, hopefully.
“nah. i’m going to kill you because she called over here to tell me that she turned the light off and locked the door.”
“i see.”
“you’re dead.”
“m’kay. i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“okay.”

i just. i mean. this lady. she saw a light on and just…what? and then the back door was unlocked? really? my bad. honestly. i thought i locked it. but also? there’s nothing in the house to steal. except, maybe the painters’ boombox. or paint. perhaps she’s worried about vagrants wandering in and cleaning themselves? i’m sure it happens all the time at the White People Subdivision/Farmland Next to the Expensive Private School.
not. not ever.

to sum up:
yes, i’m a forgetful dumbass idiot. but also? you don’t have to tell on me, for. the. love.

reefer log or bust!:
reefer day song
eddy’s ice cream oh yeah! i forgot i bought ice cream! yay!
locust jump
history of the popsicle the popsicle was born Patricia Allowicious Pickle on august 10, 1954, in a little town called akron, ohio. or, as i refer to it, hell. skip ahead a few years and uh, there you have it! Popsicle!
salamanders fuck the salamanders? they no fuck! the salamanders? they make love.
mush balls
what’s worse than finding a worm in your apple the holocaust you are kidding me!
pickle king new york
how to make a scarf clip

4.17.05
kristie mentioned The Big Joe Polka Show on the message board. i watched it. it was…i couldn’t change the channel. i smiled the whole time i watched it. it claims to be “happy music for happy people” and true, the people dancing sure seemed happy. maybe it’s open bar? i know i was plastered.

i’m not sure where the show was shot at, it seemed at first that it was in a high school gymnasium/auditorium, but as the shots panned around it seemed way too big for that. the “dance floor” was plywood and it stretched out to an area with tables and chairs, beyond the tables and chairs was just…blackness…as if the place was so big that it actually sucked light into it’s inky, blackhole. the “stage” was a raised platform, and the rest of the space? i don’t know. i think maybe it’s the soundstage where they filmed the lunar landing. or maybe the show takes place on the actual moon.

it has to be a moon show. where else would Big Joe get his vests? moon vests. it’s crazy. each side of the vest has the keys and buttons part of an accordion sewed on it, then he wears a ruffled tux shirt…so the ruffles look like the middle part of the accordion. get it?
and if the ruffled shirt wasn’t bad enough…the sleeves, my god, the sleeves. poofy. and sheer.

sheezus, Big Joe, i do not need to see your pink, ham-like arms through sheer sleeves, m’kay?
and? sheer, poofy sleeves are for women. maybe no one told you.
so i’m telling you now.

as far as i can tell, Big Joe is like the Rod Roddy of polka.

here’s something else, while i watched these old people dance to the polka music, i couldn’t tell if it’s really hard or really easy to polka dance.

i called dad.
“dad, you won’t believe what i’m watching.”
“uh….”
“The Big Joe Polka Show.”
“there’s a polka show? on tv?”
“isn’t satellite weird? it’s not even PBS.”
“what’s the band’s name?”
“uh…i think it’s the Joe Beno Polka Band.”
“out of cleveland, ohio?”
“yes! holy crap! how did you know that?!”
“just a guess. cleveland’s like, the polka capital of the world.”

4.16.05
update: 50 Books. this week i finished a Shirley Jackson book and a Kay Hooper book. and i quote TG:II. a typical week for jaimie.

at work yesterday there was a sweet four year old girl who talked nonstop. she had a cute squeaky voice and was just the most adorable thing ever. “the bumbles are chasing me!” she said.
“oh yeah?” i asked.
“yeah! that bumble with the long tail.”
“that’s a dragonfly, honey.” i said.
“haha! no, it’s not. it’s a bumble with a long tail!”

“i like to catch lizards!”
“you do?”
“yes! that’s my favorite thing! catching lizards! but i don’t squeeze them!”
“that’s good.”
“i know! i love catching lizards!”
“do you name them?”
“what?” she said, in the “are you fucking crazy?” tone.
“do you name the lizards you catch?”
“no! you silly!”
“oh.”
“i don’t know their names!”

“i didn’t know that my mommy has a little brother inside her.”
“she does?”
“yes!”
“well, neat. so you’ll have a little brother soon, huh?”
“yes. in 20 more months.”
“so she’s an elephant?”
“what?”
“what’s your little brother’s name going to be?”
“well, Daddy wants to name him Freddy Couples because of the golf course. But Mommy wants to name him Sweetie.”

four years old, y’all.
my stony, ice heart grew three times that day.

4.14.05
Dear New York Yankees,

It’s called baseball; look into it. Perhaps you could find a coach, and you could practice the game every once in a while? I’m just sayin’. I mean, you already have the uniforms and the GIANT HONKING PAYCHECKS. MAYBE YOU COULD START EARNING YOUR MONEY?

You bums.

Love,
Jaimie Pickle

***

i got an awesome e-mail from the World Famous Cookie Magoo today. and in this precious e-mail was a joke. a joke, she said, that i would appreciate. and let’s just say, Cookie knows me so well. so i MUST share this joke with you.

Q. What’s worse than finding a worm in your apple?

A. The Holocaust.

(you gotta highlight the answer.)
this joke made me laugh the silly laugh that scares small animals and children.

***

and i now see the reason i couldn’t find the chiska song was because it’s Who Stole the Kishka. you’ll just have to excuse my ignorance, i live in the south, and sadly, polka is nonexistent. i realize that frank yankovic was a god in certain parts of the country, but here there is no place for the accordion (well, wait. there is zydeco, huh?). we’ve got our own dumbass instruments.
exhibit a. the banjo.
it’s like a snare drum had sex with a guitar and…here put these metal things on your fingers.

but it saddens me that i’ve just now realized how regional things are. no polka in the south. but oh, can you imagine the song titles?
Deep Fried Polka
Okra Polka
Sweet Home Alapolka
Polka Salad Annie
Sweet Tea Polka (cos it would be vulgar for the baptists to dance to the Beer Barrel Polka. wait, it’s vulgar for them to dance at all, innit? hee.)
Who Stole the Jimmy Dean™ Sauage Links?
The Warsh Rag Polka
Hootenanny Polka
Hey Y’all, Let’s Polka!
Polka, Polka, Polka, Sweet Potato Pie Polka

i’m sure there would be others. why don’t you make up a fake polka title and share it with the forum? they are huge polka fans. especially liz.

reefer log:
lucy lawless bees i know! me too. but no, it’s locusts.
cute baes
beards biblical use of

4.13.05
it ALWAYS rains on wednesday night. i know this to be true because EVERY TIME i take the trash out to the curb, it is raining.
“jimmy! it ALWAYS FLOPPING RAINS when i have to take the trash out.”
“hey…you’re right.”
“it’s a conspiracy!”
“it wasn’t supposed to rain tonight.”
“i know!”

2 minutes after i took the trash out? stopped raining.

O, ye foul waether!
Thou fickle hellcat,
Damn thee.

***

because of the Great Psychic Cat Puke Adventure last night i did not get any sleep. well, that’s not true from 5:30am-6:30am i got some awesome sleep. just not enough.
every time the kitty moved, twitched, licked, breathed, jumped off the bed, etc i would jolt awake, “wha? huh? kitty? puke?” and then lay there waiting for her to get back on the bed. then drift off again. EVERY. 20. MINUTES.

***

tomorrow i get to work outside. i’m pretty excited about it. but i am dreading the bees.
O, ye foul baes!
Thou winged douchebags
With stingers! And venom!

The thorax!

***

jimmy and i bought ice cream tonight (Eddy’s). it was a deal, buy 2 for $6. he always gets rocky road. and i always get something new and awesome and cool and new. one time i got caramel popcorn (Mayfield). i know! it does sound gross! i thought so too! but it was REALLY QUITE GOOD. and i haven’t seen it since then. but tonight i got the latest special flavor Girl Scout Cookies with REAL, ACTUAL, GENUINE PIECES OF SAMOA COOKIES AND CARAMEL. God really does bless us all, everybody. even if he does play tricks with the rain on Garbage Day Eve.

reefloger:
pics on use of deadly force
how to say pickle in italian wow. i don’t know. according to babel fish it’s sottaceto. so-tuh-che-to?
king cobras
police riddles
greek dance on the table i immediately thought of the Who Stole the Chiska song/dance that is so popular at weddings, unless you live in the south, in which case you’ve never heard that song before. but now that i think about it, it’s probably not greek. probably polish? if i had to guess. why can’t i find that song on the internet? i thought you could find anything on the internet!
curses international we’re global!
free what am i riddles for kids
gadsden times sounds familiar…
jerkhole yay!

4.12.05
juan’s taxes are in the mail.

painted the dreaded Mr. Pissy Pants apartment today. this old dude reeked of pee. and finally he had to move out and go to a home of some kind. pretty sad i guess, but also if i can smell piss and you’re 30 feet away…you have a problem. so he can’t take care of himself obviously. i’m glad he’s at a place where SOMEONE will clean him up.
it was so bad that when he fell or whatnot and the paramedics came to get him the girl paramedic walked in to the apartment and promptly puked her guts out. that, my friends, is a problem.
lucky for us the room was fumagated and the carpet ripped out so by the time we got there it wasn’t so pee-y.

***

a few minutes ago i thought, “i bet the cat is going to throw up.” i don’t know why. she wasn’t acting weird or anything. sure enough, not 30 seconds ago, she puked. a gigantic yellow mound of mush.
warm.

why, toonces, why do you HAVE TO PUKE ON THE CARPET?! ALL OF THE OTHER ROOMS HAVE SMOOTH SURFACES, BEIT WOOD OR VINYL. WHY THE CARPET?
poor kitty.
there was something in the puke, other than food bits. a dark something. maybe she got a mouse? she was inside all day so i don’t think she ate another squirrel or anything bigger than a mouse. maybe she ate some yarn. who knows.
hm. poor kitty.

psychic cat puke.

4.11.05
haapy birthday to laira! hapy birhtday too yoo!

sluhtwore.

as you xcan see, no bakcspace! i must ne drinkigs.!

sometimes yo uhave to let thinds go. for exxxmelplo: you knwo when you eating a box aod (igoner) of junieor mints? and the last tow aer melted to eht box? inthe corner?
let them go.
you agotta let “em go. oterwise you’ll be bnanging the box and getting mad and fr o what?! junioer mints? plase. there are more oter thigns to get mad abaout.

other times youhave to let go? i’l tlell oyu. forin stance. i’vce had MAMmbo ItAliano on my head all day long. hvae you ever? i hat that that song os in my head, but wha can uo do? gt mad?
you gota let it og!

anotehr one: the newyork yankes have lost liekm. 3 in a row, come on you idiouts! all oyu have ot do is win. YOU LETT BLATIMORE BEAT YOU!?
let em go, jiamie. let em go.

ROSEMARY CLLOONEY GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

see what happends when you dont let go?

i have a funny story to ell but ican’t tell it now ‘vos i’m not using bcakspace. it would be too horrilbe looking. tomoreow

this pant job now i s anightmare but i AM THANKTING YOU GOD JESUS THAT TERE’S NO POOP OR PEE SMELLS TO SMELL.

hay on line 6 of juans; taksxes YOU REALLY do put a 0 ((zzzzzeoreo) ! i thougth that -0- meant ‘whatver number you get when you stubtract the other fucking numbers” beca uethat’s how much i OVERTHINKGS THINKGS. they realy menat 0. zreo zero.
see why i’m not alwoed to do mine own tazxed? i;d lose evrytime!
but sinece juan’s mom did her taxes she getss bakc monkey,. HAAAAAAAA! money.

juan! you are a stupiefd dumbhole full of thigns that arent’ smart like, rocks and water skiis. i hate you/

rsoe mary coolney@! out now! rosemary clooney, i mean. go!

i am reading books! dno’t! pressuure! me!

4.10.05
mr. fleegan and i were watching the Hitler Channel this evening, and i asked him who was hitler’s girlfriend, and he said it was eva braun which i then said that oh yeah, for some reason the name lizzie borden was in my head but i knew that wasn’t right, and his reply to that was, “bastille?”
and then we laughed.

because on friday mr. fleegan was talking about the pope and i asked where they were burying him (i haven’t been paying attention) and he said under the Bastille.
“what?”
“you know, that Bastille thing.”
“in france? why? does it even exist anymore?”
“no, in italy. where they bury popes and things.”
“honey, you mean basilica. St. Peter’s?”
“yeah, basilica.”
“thank god for art history. you realize i have to blog about this, right?”
“you realize i can destroy your website with one click, right?”

we have the best conversations.

the reefer log is swamped with tax searches. i apologize for those looking up 1040ez forms and pages 24-32 in the tax booklet. go here: www.irs.gov

tomorrow is LBC‘s B’day. i got her something orange.

4.09.05
update: 50 books

today was KID’S FUN DAY at Gadsden’s own Convention Hall of Rentable Space. it’s a free event that my mom’s pre-school does every year. they give out free pizza and soda, and lot’s of sponsors come out and give free stuff to the kids. like, the Lion’s Club does free eye tests, and there’s usually some group giving away free fish (poor fish). and there’s dance groups and talent groups and things that perform on a stage. and there’s just lots of other stuff too.

usually i have to sling free pizza, but this year more people from the church decided to volunteer, so i wasn’t even going to go. ah, a blessed saturday of nothing pressing to do…right. but mom caught me yesterday, “i talked to your brother today.”
“oh yeah? how’s he doing?”
“he said since you have bright yellow hair that you should go to the FUN DAY tomorrow and juggle for the kids.”
“oh he DID?”
“yeah. it would be a good idea, you know.”
“why that little…selling me out like that!”
“would you? please?”
“ohhh….i don’t know.”
“c’mon?”
“he’s got a lot of nerve. i mean, how many FUN DAYs has HE volunteered at??? huh?! NONE! THAT’S HOW MANY!”

jerkhole.

so anyway. since i’m the BEST PICKLE CHILD IN THE LAND i went and juggled and wow, my arms with the soreness. thanks be to Nicole Papa for taking many pics of me juggling.


it looks like i have to pee

so there it is. my good deed for the month.

***

i woke up this morning and when i stretched in bed my hand hit my right earring and i heard a pop! sound and ah crap, there went the back of my earring. gone. into the Oblivion of Nothingwhere. i couldn’t find the damn thing anywhere. so i figured it was time to buy a new pair seeing as how i’ve been wearing the same silver balls since i got them pierced. which, by the way, i thought was last year, but i see that it’s been two years and holy cow, where does the time go?

unfortuneately my ears are persnickety, and they ooze and bleed unless the earrings are made of The Purest and Finest Metal In All The Land. but i went to Claire’s this evening and it was buy two pair get one free, and so how could i pass up a deal on cute earrings? i AM a girl after all.

so i got some silver crosses, because, why not?
some silver salamanders, because, also why not?
and some small circle ones…hoops? but they’ve got a glass ball in the middle. they look pretty cute.

i wanted to get these little turtles and there were these adorable strawberries too. but since
A. i’m not sure just how oozey and gross these are going to make my ears (although i did get the ones marked for sensitive ears) and
B. i’m not really great at changing them out (you mean i’ve had these silver balls in for nearly two years?! i am consistent. and boring. consistently boring.), so what’s the point of having cute earrings that sit on my dresser for years?

right now i’ve got the crosses on. and everytime i look in a mirror (okay, twice i’ve looked) i’m all, “what the hell?!” because they look so foriegn. so drastic. so much bigger than the silver balls. but they’re really not that big. maybe i’ll get used to them.

i should probably work my way up to the hoops, huh? i can see laura and i having this conversation,
“gah! i look like a GYPSY!”
“you do not look like a gypsy.”
“i mean, throw a colorful scarf on my head and i’m there.”
“honest, they are too small to be gypsy hoops.”
“this screams, “i have the blood of the Roma!” ugh. i’m a filthy gypsy whore.”
“you’re an idiot.”
“a gypsy idiot.”

no offense to gypsies, tramps, or thieves. no curses please.

4.07.05
what? jaimie didn’t finish another book today?
no. jaimie actually worked today.

i worked at an apartment at the Holy House. a lady there had some leak problems that were fixed, but the sheet rock had to be ripped out. so we replaced it and painted it. sounds so easy doesn’t it? what if i told you that the ancient lady who lived at the apartment had an equally ancient cat? and what if i told you that the litter box was just a cooking pot that she keeps in the bathroom? and what if i also told you that THERE WAS NO LITTER IN THE PEE POT? WHAT. IF. I. TOLD. YOU. IT WAS 4,000 DEGREES IN THE APARTMENT?
can you guess at the smell?

no. no you can’t.

i heaved about 4 times. no pukage. just heaving every so often. it was somehow worse than the Dead Man’s Room, i think because of the heat.

i do lead a charmed life, don’t i? yesterday was Poopy Pants Elevator Man and today was Steamy Hot Piss Pot. anyone want to trade? hm? laura? liz?

i mean, if i was a nurse, then yes, i’d expect this kind of thing daily. put i’m a PAINTER.
weeee!

*

reefer log:
lucy lawless tattoos lame!
tax tabel booklet 1040e lame!
locusts cbs lame!

4.06.05
update: 50 Books i am a crazy reading mofo. how do i do it, you ask? the secret is to read 6 books at a time. that way you’re not tied down to just one book at a time. monogamy? why?

*

today Popsicle and i painted a room at the Holy House that we’ve named Nicotine Town. the unit hadn’t ben painted in like, 20 years, and everyone who had lived in it had apparently smoked 4 packs a day. walls were yellow, the ceiling was BROWN. and the metal door frames? also brown. i sprayed them with cleaner and watched in horror as brown tobacco juice rolled down, leaving the frames a nice off-yellow color. gag.
the boss came up later on and we had this conversation:
B: i think the lady who lived here didn’t just smoke cigarettes

P: you think she had a fish-fry in here?

M: dad, she’s talking about marijuana.

P: oh!

B: the sad thing is no one knows where she is now.

P: why not?

B: she found her a boyfriend on the internet and ran away with him.

J: what? an old lady did this?

B: yep. she took one bag and left the rest of her stuff here.

P: you’re kidding!

B: nope. there was a note left on the counter saying that she’s giving up the apartment and to do whatever we want with all her stuff.

J: you know she’s dead, right?

B: probably. who’s to say she even wrote that note? when the guy came to pick her up he stayed in the lobby until she came down to meet him and he told some of the old ladies who were down there at the time that he’s been widowed 3 times.

J: oh. this is sad.

P: what about her family?

B: they haven’t heard from her.

J: no.

B: i’ve put her stuff in storage in case she comes back…or…they find the body.

J: this is almost sadder than painting a dead guy.

also today i shared The Slowest Elevator Ride in the World with The Poor Bastard Who Pooped His Pants. trust me, it was not a fart. my heart went out to the poor old guy. because let’s face it, pooping your pants = bad day. sometimes you cough or sneeze and KAPLAT! poopy pants. sometimes you’re at the red light at the last intersection before the turn to your house and ohno, ohno, ohno, ohno, WHY?!
these things happen.

**

DEADLY FORCE. BECAUSE WE ALL WANT TO BE COWBOYS, LIKE WYATT EARP!
what is this? i don’t understand why the people passing this seem to think that it makes good sense. i mean, yes, by all means, defend yourself. but this is basically saying if you feel threatened…anywhere…’go ahead and kill ’em.’
i mean, “ah! you dare to take my wallet!? you cad! you have dishonored me. a duel to the death!” KABLAAM! “you can clearly see, he was going to attack me.”

and these right-wing, conservative, republican dick beards all claim to be pro-life. yes, so long as it’s a fetus. but if it’s old enough to tote a gun, well, it’s huntin’ season.

4.05.05
update: 50 books

dammit, landlady, get some patience. Rome wasn’t built in a day, whatever the hell that means.

*

had a horrible dream last night. i was this girl, like a teenager i guess. and i found a gun, like a rusty, old, cowboy gun. and when i picked it up (why?! why pick up a strange gun?! have you like, never seen a movie before?!) i knew that he would come for it. who was he? who was i? i have no idea.
but later on in the dream i look and there in my hands is that gun…even though it hadn’t been in my hands a second ago. and then there he is and says, “you got mah six-shooter? ah knew you would.” and i was all kill him! just shoot him! he’s gonna kill someone with this gun! kill him first! but the gun was so heavy and i’ve never actually shot a gun before and so when i did pull the trigger i totally missed. and then he pulled out another cowboy gun just like it (oh it just fucking figures, doesn’t it?) and he shot me like, way too many times. overkill. and he laughed.

and i woke up all jerky and twitchy and thinking why, when you found the gun, didn’t you take the bullets out of the gun?! why didn’t you bury the gun?! why did you have to have the gun?!
but then i calmed down and figured it didn’t matter if the girl had the gun or not, he was gonna kill her anyway. overkill.
who was that girl?
who was that man?

**

here’s a fun graphic that shows how you get a new pope from the Pope Factory. it’s something like, “two men enter; one man leaves” only instead of Thunderdome they call it conclave.
who run vatican town?

***

i’m not always a douchebag, but when it comes to my taxes i am.
look, i can solve puzzles, riddles, mensa books, dot-to-dots, color-by-number, the jumble, morse code, semaphor flags, greek mythology, and, and, and i’m really good at the ponies. but when it comes to taxes i become an angry 5th grader who can’t figure out the last word problem.
“okay, okay let’s think about this, jaimie. ‘If Juan subtracts line 5 from line 4, and line 5 is larger than line 4, then Juan enters -0-. This is Juan’s taxable income.’ wait. what is juan’s taxable income? 0? i don’t- what? ‘Use the amount on line 6 above to find Juan’s tax in the tax table on pages 24-32 of the booklet. Then enter Juan’s tax from the table on this line.’ wha? there’s a booklet?! ARG!! I CAN’T DO IT! I CAN’T DO IT! MOM! MO-OM! HELP MEEEEE!”
what’s worse is i file the 1040EZ. i know. it’s like, Taxes For ‘Tards.

all i know is two things:
1. Juan needs to marry an accountant and
2. Juan will not be contributing $3 to the presidential election campaign.

ree-fer-log:
haircolor and highlights
lucky ladies
meth pictures
gay italians
who sings stand by your man miss tammy wynette. godresthersoul. i always liked the part where she sings “give him two arms to clang to”

4.04.05

Dear Lucy Lawless, again,

I’m sorry about yesterday’s letter. I didn’t realize your movie was a metaphor. Brilliant! Keep up the good work!

Love,
Jaimie Pickle

in all honesty, i’ve never understood subsidized farming. so, the government pays farmers not to grow things? wha? “oh jaimie, you and your simple mind…”

in other non-important things, the Yankees played a hell of a game last night against Boston.

this is stupid. and it makes it so mush easier to hate ignorant people. oh, but i don’t want to hate people. i want to love them. i even want to love the “president”. of course, i’m not loving him, but i want to…and that has to count for something. baby steps.

and for the record, i’m already sick of the “culture of life” phrase.
and why is the “pres.” going to the pope’s funeral?

But at the same time, the pope’s interpretation of the phrase was considerably wider than the president’s. While they shared the view that the “culture of life” extended to abortion and euthanasia, the president did not share the pope’s feeling that it also extended to the death penalty and the Iraq war — which the pope opposed.

the “president” is a jackass.

***

my ‘fridge actually has some food in it at the moment. surprisingly, none of it is leftover chinese take-out. because i just ate those leftovers for dinner.

***

at the therapist’s office the other day:
i’m in the waiting room and T comes out of his office.
T: hey jaimie, do you know what the Secret Policeman’s Ball is?

J: i’ll take Complete Random for $400, Alex.

T: Ha.

J: is it the Secret Policeman’s Ball or the Policeman’s Secret Ball? are the police secret? or is the ball secret?”

T: …

J: …

T: okay. have you heard of either one of those?

J: …no.

his wife works the phones and computer so she looked it up and it was some kind of fund raising event in London for Amnesty International. so there you go.

reefer log:
scream pickle
psychic heat air
italian kitty tattoo
whah is a great love
laura ingles wilder

4.03.05

Dear Lucy Lawless,

Hi.
I’m somewhat of a, uh, a fan, I guess you would say. I liked your Xena show. Well, seasons 1 – 3 weren’t too bad. Seasons 4 and 5 were kind of awful (except for the handful of comedy eps), and 6? Well, it’s best not to talk about that one, seeing as how I only saw 3 episodes of it. Anyway, I think you’re a very good actress. I don’t blame you for the show jumping shark with the whole Dahak arc. And then jumping shark again with the whole China/Lao Ma thing. And then jumping even more shark with the “xena has a baby and then she and gabrielle are frozen in ice for 25 years and then unfrozen and xena’s daughter is all grown up and is a bad guy” story. Jesus, what were the writers thinking?

Anyway, I couldn’t help but notice you’re in a new movie, Locusts! (April 24th CBS)

Look, I’m sorry. It’s just, when I saw the preview for the movie there was like, a busload of school kids and these buzzing insects swarming all in the bus and i thought it was so sad, those poor kids being stung to death by killer bees. And then, then it’s not killer bees after all, but…locusts? And then they showed a clip of you with your hair blowing in the wind and you had a sword or something.

Okay, okay locusts. That sounds bad, right? I mean, they were a Biblical plague, they must be terrible. They’re probably some kind of horrible stinging, biting, venomous…wait, what? Locusts don’t sting or bite? What?
You mean a locust is the same thing as a grasshopper?
Get. The Fuck. Out.
Well, does the rest of the population know that? Because if the rest of the world finds out that locusts are just goddamn grasshoppers I’m afraid your movie won’t have a leg to stand on. Even if they are “scientifically engineered” (to do what, anyway. breathe underwater? swarm in cool shapes? cure cancer? taste like chicken?) I don’t think anyone’s going to care to see a movie about swarming grasshoppers. It is what it is, okay?

“But Jaimie…” Wait, Lucy, let me finish, then you can have your turn. So let me guess, these RoboLocusts escape from a government facility, then eat all of Nebraska’s corn, and then…annoy the complete fuck out of everybody…to death? So then those who aren’t killed by the annoying will starve because there’s no more corn and so they are forced to…i dunno…eat the fucking locusts? Which, I can only guess, are about as nutritious as the genetically enhanced corn that Nebraska was growing in the first place? Am I close?

Look, I’m not trying to be rude, okay? And I mean, I just…well, maybe it’s an awesome movie, right? But the thing is, it just doesn’t seem possible. I mean, a movie about locusts, even scientifically engineered locusts, just seems a little too…hokey? I mean no disrespect, honest. I guess…what I’m trying to say is… OH, FOR THE LOVE! YOU KNOW SAM RAIMI FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! YOU MADE HIM AN ASSLOAD OF MONEY FOR THE XENA SHOW! I’M SURE HE CAN GET YOU A BETTER PART THAN SOME GOVERNMENT-SCIENCE-TART FIGHTING GODDAMN LOCUSTS IN THE MIDWEST!

See, now here’s a locust problem:


Giant! Wooden! Locust!

Now if a bunch of those were swarming a school bus, then yes, movie. Even better, they spit venom. Even, even better, they don’t merely spit venom, but instead they have king cobras that live in their mouths and when they open their giant mandibles the cobras strike! And spit venom! No wait! Acid! NO! WAIT! ACID-VENOM! QUICK! SOMEONE GET ME HOLLYWOODLAND ON THE PHONE! LUCY LAWLESS, I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU A STAR!

Love,
Jaimie Pickle

4.02.05
wow. pretty awesome april fool’s joke, huh?

april fool’s day is also mr. fleegan’s birthday. and florrie remembered! because she is Birthday Rememory Girl. like a computer, she is.
methuselah jimmy turned 674 years young.

new weekly for your reading playsure.

reefer log:
spy toilets
the jesus pickle
how to lose wait in the stomach fast
painting michael corleone
shit pickle
leslie neilson

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