| July 2004 Dribblings | |
7.31.04 however, if i hear that song say, on monday, i'll hear it on tuesday. then wednesday. and probably twice on thursday. and not on the same radio station either. i'll hear it in the car. at work. at the grocery store. the mall. applebee's. sonic. martin's. liquor store. wherever. it follows me, nay, haunts me. and what kills me is that none of my friends have ever heard this song. the only reason mr. fleegan has heard it is he's with me a lot. poor fella. its just weird. i don't want my theme
song to be a depressing dirge about a shipwreck in the
great lakes! you know all the guys would want Shaft for their theme song. 7.30.04 mr. b came over last
night for dinner and i had linda on the hi-fi (hee) and
he says, "is that barbra?!" and i said,
"no that's linda." and he
says, "linda?" and i say, "linda is the
new barbra." well. 7.28.04 anyway, i'm attempting a
weekly. again. when i got home from
work today i sat on the porch and talked to chris for
awhile. he lives in the other half of the Dreamplex.
anyway the femail man came by to deliver mail. and she
walks up the steps and she has two letters in her hand
and says, "i've got a pickle and a wood." and
so i raise my hand and say, "i'm the pickle!"
and chris raises his hand and says, "i'm the
wood!" 'cos we were kind of excited to be getting
mail at our new residence. only later when i'm in the shower do i realize that pickle and wood are like totally phallic. 7.27.04 oh wait. my period. this is all starting to make sense now. 'cos i went to the store and came back with decaf coffee and sour cream. and then i was mad because what the hell am i supposed to do with THAT?! yesterday was Cat Blog. today it's Menstrual Blog. what on earth could be next? more referer log
madness: again with the pickled walnuts! i do feel the need to find a recipe for those poor souls searching for instuctions for pickling walnuts. because sure i try to shoot lasers from my eyes (one day, oh yes, one day), but i still want to help out those in need of pickled walnuts. i had some pickled okra the other day. it wasn't bad. i thought it would be bitter or slimey. but it was neither. and actually, it tasted just like a pickle. it would have been good with a bloody mary, i think. ****** i had a dream last night that mister fleegan was tired of me but he wouldn't say anything about it. so he stopped brushing his teeth so i wouldn't want to kiss him or be around him. his gums receded and turned blackish. it was so gross. i was pleading with him, "why are you doing this? if you don't like me just say so and we can get on with our lives. but for the love, start brushing your teeth! it's bad enough you won't go to the dentist, but jesus god, i can see the roots of your teeth!" and he was all, "i don't know what your problem is. you're always nagging me." and i was all, "how can you stand to eat another snickers bar?! isn't that killing your mouth?" and people were acting
as if i was the crazy one! all of our friends kept giving
him other girlfriends! what?! when i woke up i was still grossed out from the teeth and then i remembered the Ren and Stimpy cartoon where Ren stopped brushing his teeth and they all fell out and he pulled out the nerve endings with a tweezer. not really a great way to start off the morning. 7.25.04 laura is a better person than me. because she doesn't make fun of my stupid detective stories. ***** when i woke up this
morning i could not find the cat. hey wait, where's
the cat? she was in here when i went to sleep. hm. "TOONCES?!
WHERE ARE YOUUUUUUU?! MISS KITTY? PRETTY PRINCESS KITTY,
WHERE ARE YOUUUUU?!" i said in my Cat Hunting Voice
which is high pitched and very annoying i'm sure.
eventually i found her hiding underneath the bathtub.
which is like, her Secret Hideout When She Gets Very,
Very, Very Scared. if she's just Regular Scared she hides
under the bed. so i'm wondering what on earth scared her
so much before 7am? so much that she fled the bedroom,
leaving me behind, sleeping, unawares that certain danger
was so close to my very person. and once again this turns into Cat Blog. feh. ***** i told laura and kris 3 times yesterday how great the newest Liza CD is. they thought i was drunk. but i wasn't. i was serious. so serious that i had to slur on and on about it 3 times. anyway, it's very good. 7.24.04 i am this close (picture thumb and finger .20 of an inch apart) from finishing what i thought would be the LAST HONKING SCARPETTA NOVEL (Blow Fly). until i found out today that there is a new one coming out in september. Dear Ms. Patricia Cornwell, Hi. i'm a huge fan. Really. i've read like, almost all your books, (13! i know! big fan, right?) and i'm sure you hear this a lot but, You Are Really Great. And not because of these Scarpetta novels. Because let's face it, these books are tiresome. i mean, i think you should've stopped this stuff like, 6 books ago. And now you've got a new one coming out? What else could possibly happen?! Is she going to fly a space shuttle in this one? hmm? Are we going to be forced to solve mysteries in outer-space now? Because offhand i can't think of anything new for you to write about. i mean, you've had several serial killers, murderers, arson, helicopters, a werewolf, France, New York, Baton Rouge, The Austrian Psychiatrist Lady, Lucy and her Special Lady Friends, FBI, ATF, Inter-farking-pol, and tons of other plots happen to a medical examiner. so other than shooting the whole cast and crew to the moon to solve a murder mystery involving an astronaut, a virulent flesh-eating disease, and some kind of National Security Emergency i just don't know what on earth there is left for Scarpetta to do. Or wait, is she gonna solve some kind of murder mystery using science and the unlimited budget she seems to have? i bet she's gonna seem cold and unfriendly to most of the people she deals with. and i'll bet she's gonna argue with Marino (Whom you've been threating to kill off for the last 6 books) over everything from his bad diet and smoking to his narrow minded bigotry over one of the characters in the book who will be either black, Puerto Rican, gay, or just a regular, nice, handsome man. Hey wait, no. i got it.
In this next book i bet the mystery is how Scarpetta has
managed to be 46 years old for the last 10 years. These books are not the
reason You Are Great. So even though you continue to write these Scarpetta novels (Which i am forced to read, mind you.) You're still Ok in my book (Which i have yet to write, but i will. Oh yes. i will.). God bless you, Ms. Cornwell. Sincerely, Jaimie Pickle ***** more reefer-er log
madness: 7.22.04 fried chicken! it was so important that i had to put it in bold. bold. i am not not not going
to be using a deep fryer or fry daddy or whatever those
very scary, crisco-filled contraptions are, nay, i will
be using the frying pan or skillet or whatever the hell
you call it. i will be using canola oil and lightly
seasoned flour. and i'm gonna soak the chicken in
buttermilk, oh yes, i am. and then then THEN i am going
to fry the GLORIOUS chicken in GLORIOUS canola oil (even
thought i really want to try olive oil, but it's awful
expensive to waste on 6 chicken tenders) and
it's going to BE GREAT or my name isn't jaimie
"chicken fried chicken" pickle. and technically
it's not. which is totally the marines slogan and i know that so don't e-mail me about how i got the army slogan and the marines slogan mixed up because i did it on purpose, ok? anal-retentive military types and their foreign slogans! makes no sense. what is this? the latin army? so you are all invited for fried chicken at jaimie's house but please, don't come over because i don't have enough and i really don't want people in my house and also i was planning on starting THE LAST SCARPETTA NOVEL, THANK YOU SWEET LORD TO WHOEVER RETURNED IT TO THE LIBRARY EARLY. I LOVE YOU AND WILL MAKE YOU FRIED CHICKEN AT A LATER DATE. 7.20.04 the funeral went fine, but apparently all baptist preachers are the same. uncle george was not a religious guy and probably went to the preacher's church once or twice and STILL there was an altar call. it wouldn't be so horrible if these preacher types weren't so sanctimonious about it. like THEY'RE the ones SAVING the world. fuck you. and the dope didn't even TRY to act like he knew george at all. it was like he had this pre-fab sermon and he just madlibbed uncle george's first AND LAST NAME everytime he mentioned the guy. so there you go. ***** reefer-er log fun: the pickle page yo Cheez-it, looks like you owe me some money. pay up, sucka. ***** i changed my cell phone
rate plan. i tried to do it over the internet but it kept
giving me this WARNING IF YOU CHANGE YOUR PLAN TO THIS
PLAN THEN YOU WILL LOOSE THIS OTHER PART OF THIS OTHER
PLAN THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE. and the thing i was losing
(other than my glorious FREE 500 txt msgs) was some kind
of $5 long distance thing. so i call t mobile and say,
"what is this $5 long distance fee all about?"
and their all, "you don't need that anyway, since
we're on a nationwide long distance thing." and i'm
like, "oh really? i didn't need to pay long distance
'cos it's free, but you've let me pay the extra
$5 for the last 3 years anyway?" i hate t mobile. 7.15.04 my uncle george died. so
my fam and i (and surprisingly, mr. fleegan) will be
traveling south to the Tampa-ish region of the state of
FLA. FLAH. uncle george was a pretty cool old guy. he
always seemed pretty laid back and when he'd come to
visit he'd crack open the first beer around 10am. i never
knew if he did that just 'cos he was on vacation or if he
did this everyday. nevertheless it always impressed me. it's sad that he's gone but also maybe not so much. his wife died (aunt betty*. everyone's got an aunt betty) a few years before and i think he had been lonely. so you know, now i'm thinking he's not lonely anymore. so maybe it's not all sad, right? half full. half full. half full. *when i was leetle
fleegan i always thought that aunt betty was rich or
famous or both. why? because to a 6 year old jaimie those things = rich. and to be completely honest, to a 26 year old jaimie those things pretty much = rich too. especially the kleenex. and another good thing is i get to see my cousin bonnie. she is hilarious and i think she invented computers. so she's probably rich too. 7.14.04 i'm still
enjoying living by myself. i love the quiet. love it. in other
news: my face itches. i've been meaning to write a Weekly about moving and all, but i just haven't gotten around to it. what with the computer not being at my house it's kinda hard to keep updating. i'll try to get on that soon. ****** people have been mistakenly led to my site this week by searching for: new pickle
radio 7.11.04 morning being the key word here. apparently downtown is
THE place to be on sunday morning if you have a jet. so it's been a week
since i moved over here. it's been okay. i like being
alone, but also there are times when being alone sucks.
like at 5am and there's scritching and scampering sounds
coming from the air return vent thing (which is in my
bedroom). like, rat scritching noises. i was able to wait
until 6:30am to call dad. "herrm?" *mom used
to get so mad when i would call and immediately ask for
dad. but i think she has learned that when i do that it
means, "hi mom, everything is alright. there is no
immediate danger. but i need to talk to dad RIGHT NOW
because *enter random broken thing* and i don't know what
to do." but oh i can't tell you how many times i
called and asked for dad and she was all, "oh what?
you don't want to talk to me?" and it was like,
"well mom, the jeep just shot a fireball out of the
exhaust pipe and the engine is making a ticking noise. so
if you know anything about how to fix that i'm all
ears." ***** there is a truck i've seen driving around town and in vinyl letters across the top of the windshield it tells the world to "don't be hatin'" which is a phrase that thankfully, has not penetrated into mainstream (well, not like "ah'll be bahck" and "yo quiero taco bell" and "i just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance..." and the like.) well, maybe it has made it to the mainstream and i just don't know it. how could i? my friends and i are totally modcore. THE POINT IS this is not a phrase that my friends, family, people i see on a weekly basis, etc. ever say. and i'm glad for that. however here's this pick-up truck with it splashed across the windshield and it's driving all over town and i see it once a day and the thing is, it says, 'don't be hatein'" i feel like
jerking that moron out of his truck and beating him with
a dictionary in front of his friends. but see, the
beating doesn't stop there. there is a trail of beatings
to dole out. think it, first the moron gets a beating for
then the sign shop or auto place that "detailed" the windshield gets a beating FOR NOT USING SPELL CHECK. HELLO? WHAT KIND OF JOINT ARE YOU RUNNING ANYWAY? and of course all the moron's buddies gets a beating for not recognizing/telling the moron that the CRAP HE HAS PLACED ON HIS WINDSHIELD IN GIANT 4 INCH LETTERS IS MISSPELLED. oh well.
it's not the dumbest thing i've seen downtown. nope. the
dumbest thing i've seen is the thug across the street
taking the trash out, and he was wearing his pants all
baggy and stupid low, like so we could all enjoy his blue
underwear. and he makes it half way across the yard and
his pants fall to his ankles. 7.10.04 "jimmy, do you hear
that noise?" 7.08.04 Dear Person Searching for What Is an Octogenarian Cat, i would like to apologize on behalf of the Internet for you being directed to my site. Your query, which is an odd one, cannot be answered on my site. i know nothing about octogenarian animals, octogenarians in general, and actually i'm not that learned about cats (octogenarian or otherwise). i could hypothesize however, that an octogenarian cat would be a cat which is 80 something years old. That is an old cat, my friend. Or, do cats age like dogs? With the whole 1 Human Year = 7 Dog Years. If so, then an octogenarian cat may be only 12 years old in Human Years. Still, that seems pretty old for any house pet. Well, cats do seem to live forever, don't they? Mine does anyway. It does raise a curious question though doesn't it? i mean, if 1 HY = 7 CY, does that mean that a cat can break a mirror and only have 1 year of bad luck? Assuming, of course, that the cat is superstitious. And i think we all know
just how superstitious cats can be. Love, 7.07.04 To The Drug Dealer Who
Is Giving My Cat PCP: love, jaimie pickle today (like most days) dad and i coined a new phrase. we often (and by often i mean at least 4 times a day) will say that something is as "hot as a cat on a hot tin roof" and we say it in that deep southern drawl. like in the movie. like how liz taylor's character talked? anyway. the thing is, we try to change it up so that we don't always say "cat on a hot tin roof" but to mean "cat on a hot tin roof" for instance we have been known to drawl, "well, it certainly is hottah thayan a cayat own a...hot...suhface. fo' instance, like a roof made of metal or somethin'." see? we've even said, "it's hottah thayan a cayat with a cup of mcdonald's coffee." but today, oh my today, we butchered it way further. we worked at the Holy House today and when we repaint a room it's because it hasn't been painted in 20 years and the color it was painted was a light pink. no joke. these poor old people have been living in tiny, pink apartments. in fact, the old color is called Mystic Pink. gag. so anyway i said, "mah, mah, this is pinkah thayan a cayat..." and dad said, "...a shaved cat...." "...own a hot tin roof, i do declayah." so there you go, pinker
than a shaved cat on a hot tin roof. 7.04.04 this weekend i moved into the Dreamplex 1.0! yay! what does this mean? it means i live downtown, some would even say the 'hood. and since we're fairly certain that the assholes across the street are "dealing" something i'll not argue the 'hood point. it's one of those middle sections, right? like one street up is the hoity-toity houses, and the street on the other side is nearly ghetto. it means i brought Toonces Whorecat with me and i haven't seen her since 2am. i hope she manages to come back. i have tons of cat food. in fact, i have more cat food than people food right now. if you were to come over to my house RIGHT NOW and be all, "jaimie, i'm hungry. whatcha got?" first i'd probably tell you to go home and eat YOUR OWN DAMN FOOD. but then since i'm really a nice person in real life i'd say, "my kitchen is your kitchen" and you could have your choice of: piece of cheap white
bread (raw or toasted) (with or without peanut butter) i'd angle for the peanut butter slathered oreos if i were you. |
|
| weekleez | home | forum | > |