Not Pet Peeves, but Major Psychotic Episodes

The king is gone, but not forgotten, big b-day props goes out to the guitar god Link Wray! Hope you’re rumbling wherever your current dimension lies!

Good-bye Mr. Vonnegut, thank you.

1922-2007

My weekend actually began on Thursday at 1:00pm. There was a bomb threat to Scaife hall were I work. My department sent us home. Sweeet! We hit Mad Mex for dinner. I had taken Friday off as a comp day, and then the horror of all horrors happened: Spores and I got cell phones. *cue bad 50s B movie scream* I had sworn that I’d never give in to it, but alas I suck. The cool part is my ringtone is Walk, Don’t Run.

Somebody stole Spore’s credit card number on Friday night. We didn’t know it happened until the credit card company called us. It was from outta state. Someone bought a plane ticket and something from the Guess website. Who wears Guess anymore? Also, a rock hit our windshield and starred it. (can you believe the luck, within a year we have had this happen 3 times! This is the 1st car I have ever had it happen to)

Watched Children of Men. Could’ve been sooooo much better. Why doesn’t anybody let me write screen adaptations? Gawwwwd. I also cried my way through Bridges of Madison County (just shut up, already! I know the ramifications of this admission)

Was going to make a quiche, but didn’t- I will next weekend. We had a shed built, a window and a door replaced. We also had a lawn service get our lawn ready for Spring.

…but of course I am a nut-job-goof-ball. My mind always plays tricks on me. Well, sometimes it isn’t my mind, I do have double vision. No, I’m not kidding, my eyes don’t work together- when my right-eye is facing forward, my left-eye is pointing to my left, giving me double vision, or as the optometrist put it, diplopia. After 25 years, I will finally get this horrible personal hell corrected by wearing eyeglasses with prism lenses. I still have perfect 20/20 vision, but I need to wear glasses. Glasses can be hip and fashionable, right?

Anyways, my mind does play tricks on me. I was watching The Simpsons today and a preview of Adam Sandler’s next horrid movie is Reign Over Me, about some guy who lost his family in 9/11 (Warhol actually meant, everybody’s a victim for at least fifteen minutes). Sandler’s character has an uncanny resemblance to Bob Dylan in his younger days. I have such a obsessive crush on Bob Dylan in his younger years which makes me wonder is it my mind playing tricks on me or is sometimes a cigar just a cigar?

Here are some things that I’ve been thinking:

Where can I get a bag of frozen sweet-potato fries? I want to make a salad that contain those yummy fries, steak, mixed-spring greens, bleu cheese, dried cherries, toasted pine nuts and a home-made raspberry vinaigrette?

The weather sucks outside, there was a truck sliding sideways down the hill on deSoto St. here in Oakland.

I am having a get-together on Saturday I need an idea for one more finger-food-type dish can I serve.

That is all for now.

to the boy who has the biggest member in our whole entire house!!!

Watson, Spores and I present Montgomery Klaus. We call him Monty for short. Watson has taken the role of ‘mother hen.’ Monty is such a good boy, he has learned to pee on his special puppy-attracting pee pads already!

More details to come, we pick him up on Saturday.

And yet another thing that’ll put me into a murderous rage… Those fuckers who put OBX stickers on the back of their amerikun mini-vans and SUVs. Have another kid and open another Yuengling/Budwiser/Coors/RollingRock/whatever brand of frat piss beer you drown your reality with and take that summer vacation to the outer banks. Whooooo-hooooo! Livin’ the dream!

So we turned over the keys to the whipple street house. I am experiancing a weird sensation in my chest, a bittersweet surrender and almost heartache. I will never set foot in that house again. I am really bummed over this– I mean, the finality of it. At the very least when we owned the house, I could go over and ’see’ it. I get so attached to inanimate objects. Probably yet another sign of my deep personality disorder(s).

The new owners. haa. what morons. a frat-boy duesch(F.B.D.) and his fiance (S.K.A.N.K) . “oh we can be close to our other frat-friends so we can take turns watching the game on sundays.” Whaaa? I did envy the huge rock on her finger, to be honest. Nevermind. You did NOT see me say that. The F.B.D. was an esq., a lawyer who represented himself and the (S.K.A.N.K), both were not interesting or had really anything interesting to say. Gawd, at least they could’ve entertained me. I NEED ENTERTAINED PEOPLE!

I think that’s what bothers me the most: the ordinaryness. dammit, surround me with people who are not predictable. I would’ve been so happy if they are going to turn the house into a crack-den, or a bordello, or even an HQ for a new wacky jebus cult, but nooooooo. C’mon be a little more creative.

I am cranky and going to bed. *grumps back to bed, hands in robe pocket, hunched-over, shuffling her ancient slippers along the way*