7.19.05

Category: dribblings

has anyone else seen the latest Shakira video? it’s for a song called La Tortura.

Dear Shakira,

Shakira, honey, the next time someone tells you to wear motor oil all over your body and dance like…well, like that, you tell HIM that it’s the 21st century. M’kay? I’m just lookin’ out for you.

Sincerely,
Jaimie

ps: can hispanic people tell what the hell you’re singing? i mean, i realize that i’m an idiot who only speaks High School Spanish, but for real, are you singing in an actual language? just curious.

***

it has been Land of the Crazy People around here lately. i had a marathon Crazy Margaret Day on sunday. i was cleaning out that Goddamned Fish Pond, heretofore known as GDFP. she talked for an hour. i only remember bits and pieces.

“jaimie! jaimie! what is that in the tree?!”
“what.”
“over there! in that tree! it’s a big brown spider!”
“i don’t see anything.”
“it’s right there!”
“margaret, that tree is 50 yards away, if it’s anything it’s a bird’s nest.”
“no! it’s a giant spider! it’s in Lola’s yard! see! look!”
“no.”
“c’mere! stand right here! i’ll point it out to you.”
“no, i’m not standing there.” she wanted me to stand in front of her so she could lean over and point and probably wack me over the head with a blackjack or something. i mean, there was a chain link fence between us but still…i’m NOT turning my back on the crazy lady. i’ve seen movies. my momma didn’t raise no dummy.
“but! it’s a giant spider!”
“good! i’m glad it’s in that tree and not in my house! now stop it!”

then she went into a ten minute tirade about how there are tarantulas downtown. july shall now be the Month of Tarantulas. i swear, it’s like you never hear or say a word in YEARS and then all of a sudden there it is a dozen times in a week. tarantula. what on earth?

at one point she asked if she could borrow my lawn mower so she could mow the lawn at the Salvation Army.
“jaimie, what size lawn mower do you have?”
“uh. i dunno. a regular one.”
“can i borrow it? it will be faster than mine.”
“ummm…no.”
“but Best used to let me borrow hers.”
“yeah, well, i’m not comfortable with that.”
“but i won’t hurt it-”
“margaret, it’s not happening.”
“okay.”

last night when jimmy and i got back from Horrible Suck-Ass Blue and Yellow Video Store, Crazy Margaret was in Crazy Lola’s yard, and they were having one of their screamtalk sessions. this one was more talk, not so much screaming. jimmy said, “quick! we gotta hurry before she comes over here!”
“no we don’t.”
“what? well, i do. i don’t want to hear her right now.”
“she won’t come over here. relax.”
“how do you know?”
“because she owes me money.”
“what? you gave her money?!”
“why does everyone freak out about that? she always pays me back.”
“yeah but-”
“and the beauty of it is, when she borrows money she doesn’t come around until she can pay me back. so it’s like, i give her five bucks and i don’t have to see her for at least a week.”
“really?”
“really.”
“and she pays you back?”
“everytime.”
“that’s a good deal.”
“don’t i know it.”

and sure enough we calmly got out of the car, went through the gate, walked up the stairs, and went in the house without so much as a peep out of her.

i’m mean. but also? you would be too.

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