Back from Hotlanta to some bad news... for those of you that know him my uncle larry (part of the crazy aunt jeanne and uncle larry dynamic duo) is in a coma in the hospital. if you all can send some good vibes his way, it would be much appreciated. until this is all over, i give you the next few installments of insecta. smooch. -G
Insecta, episode 6
"the marriage that wasn't"
Count Beaumont refused to wait on the main floor of the Bordello casino while Detective Mangy searched for the backroom where Cheetah Kittens might be hidden away. First off, the noise of the slot machines drove him nuts. He'd start to nervously wiggle his little penguin wings. Secondly, he tired of old ladies coming up to him, petting him on the head (now, on the top hat), and saying, "oh how cute." Secondly, he feared for Detective Mangy's life.
"You don't have to worry about me," detective mangy reassured him, showing off her gun, "If I have to peel a few caps on some punk's dome, so be it."
Beaumont was impressed with her street lingo but still insisted he remain at her side. His head had never been so clear as during that adrenaline rush.
Mr. Z already knew Det. Mangy was on the way. He was watching her on the surveillance video camera.
"i've waited for this moment for a very long time, my darling mangy," he swooned.
Mr. z went to his safe and, after working the combination lock, extracted a beautiful 10 carat diamond ring, the stone of which was cut in the shape of an apple. He had waited for this moment ever since Det. Mangy left him to join the police force.
Detective Mangy noticed some doors inscribed "Main offices" and decided this was where she needed to go. Beaumont followed, watching behind them to make sure no one noticed their sneaking around. After Det. Mangy had gone through the doors, she found herself in a hallway with doors on either side running all the way down the hall. At the end was a double set of doors with "executive suite" printed on them in gold leaf....Lion Bree and Captain Tombeau were heartbroken and depressed. They'd been tied up to a wall of a casino, down an inconspicuous alleyway on the Vegas strip. "What happened?, " asked the weary Captain. "We've been sucked, " said Lion, despondent."We've got to get out of here," the captain remarked somewhat more urgently."In good time, my pretty," barked Insecta. She emerged from behind a garbage dump. She had been napping. "Oh what will detective mangy say when she learns I've kidnapped the precinct captain for the strip in Vegas?" insecta cackled."you'll never get away with this," captain tombeau replied."I already have. and what is more, this time I wont' make the mistake of leaving you behind. You will be my permanent mission in life. Everyday will be about making you more and more miserable. Where's mangy now? eh? busy buying shoes again? she's a worthless detective. as you'll see, I will stay always a step ahead of her and always show up in time to ruin her day. Soon the commissioner will have her badge. hahahahahahahaha!" Insecta said with her fly eyes seemingly ablaze...As mangy opened the door to the executive suite, she encountered a candlelit room and a dark figure sitting on a sofa across the room. "come in, mangy. long time no see." the voice said.
"who are you?" asked Detective mangy.
"it's me, Zebulon Zobrunik, " he replied with a smile now illuminated by a candle he just lit.
"oh my god. it's you. I can't believe you're running a casino now. I thought you went back to Jersey." Detective mangy responded.
"no, no, my sweet, sweet mangy. i've waited for you to come back and marry me all these years."
Mr. Z said calmy, adding, "cognac?""not on duty," Detective Mangy responded starkly.
"relax. there's no need to be so official with me," said mr. z.
Count Beaumont immediately recognized the old room and hid behind some furniture, apparently unnoticed by Mr. Z. He was surprised that Detective Mangy knew his captor and feared she might rat him out.
"How did you find me?" asked Mr. Z as he poured himself a cognac.
Beaumont squinted and held his beak tight waiting to see what she'd respond. Mangy became aware she had forgotten her friend as she entered. Thinking quickly, she responded, "I am the best freaking detective in Las Vegas."
"if that's the case, why were you surprised to see me when you came in here?" asked Mr. Z growing suspicious.
...insecta stuck her long tongue down captain dizzy tombeau's throat and literally sucked all the fun out of him. as lion bree watched in horror, he struggled to free himself but it was in vain. when she pulled out her tongue, she cackled maniacallly and shrilled, "your next sweety."
Lion couldn't imagine this disgrace happening again to him. As insecta started to put her suction tongue in his mouth, he bit down with all his might.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Insecta screamed.
She drew back up into the air with her wings fluttering and charged at Lion with extreme force, shoving her suction tongue down his throat and rendering him completely morose...."i have it on good authority that Cheetah Kittens is being held hostage here somewhere," Detective Mangy said as she sat beside her one time fiance.
"how did you hear that?" asked Mr. Z., startled. he begin to think that insecta had sold him out but didn't want to reveal his cards just yet.
"Literally, a little bird told me, " Detective Mangy responded.
Mr. Z looked quizzical and confused and stared at the floor thinking what did she mean? Then, he began to piece it together.
"that damned cheetah let count beaumont go didn't she?" he growled.
"maybe, but if you are holding her here against her will, that's kidnapping and I'll have to run you in," replied the confident, cool, and collected detective.
"not on your life!" Mr. Z shouted back, "as of now you will be held hostage here until you agree to marry me as you once did. If you refuse, you'll spend your life as cheetah does, acting as a personal slave."
with that, mr. z. called in a security team who immediately grabbed detective mangy by the arms and began to put handcuffs on her. But as she struggled with them, she looked down and noticed her shiny new red pumps and suddenly felt empowered like never before.....
to be continued.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Friday, May 20, 2005
and now back to the life of G
i'm holding on to episode 6 of insecta until i get back from atlanta... instead we're going back to my world today.
i was discussing boys with a very good friend today who i miss dearly from my jersey days and we came to a decision that clearly the leftover single boys in this world are all slightly crazy. now as some of you may recall, i went on a very boring date not so long ago... but had i had the choice, i would take super boring guy over this poor girl's tidbit... here is her story:
I have had an interesting past couple weeks dating…. I thought if you don’t sleep with someone they are suppose to call???? I am going to do the opposite of what I would normally do….
I went on a date with this guy last week and he wore a t-shirt the second time we hung out that said MR RIGHT NOW……..needless to say he came by my apt. Sat. night, the third time we met up and he stayed for 30 minutes, then left and hasn’t called me since
Oh and did I mention he stayed at my apt for 30 minutes…and used dental floss???? I noticed after he left???..it was just the strangest thing it like let me get myself ready if we make out but if not I will have clean teeth?
This was all in response to my explanation of my latest adventure... super lightweight. I arrange to go out with someone that seemed normal enough (former model, how can you go wrong with that, right)... but when he arrives he keeps telling me how hungry he is (ok, got it).. so we dash out of the apt. and then after finding him a parking spot (which takes 20 mins. and he complains the entire time about parking in this town), i hustle him along to one of my favorite restaurants. i tell the waitress that he's STARVING so they bring us food right away but not before he has time to order a drink. now, i learned my lesson with super boring guy and usually try not to order alcohol on a first date just in case i need to think clearly, but he kept pushing and asking me if i was a light weight (stop giggling, people)... so i order a glass of wine. he starts chugging down his rum and saying how strong it is... then babbling on and on about his past (and also name drops about all the celebrities he's met (whoopity friggin do) and my personal favorite, abou how dating in dc sucks (HI, you're on a DATE. Again, single boys: NO NEED TO COMPLAIN ABOUT DATING WHEN YOU'RE on a DATE--that's rule #3 for those keeping notes... super boring guy made us learn rule #1--never compare your date to a family member and rule #2--never ever play air guitar with a cue stick and sing at the top of your lungs)
anyway, i order an entree and have a few bites of the appetizer, while he digests a 3 or 4 course meal and continuing to tell me how strong his drink is. i tried it, but i have to tell you, didn't think it was THAT strong. after he asks to have the rest of his dinner wrapped (ew), i ask him if he's ok, and he says yea and then says his roommate always tell people that if they want to take advantage of him to give him two drinks and he's all theirs (ok, that's QUICKLY becoming rule #4--i don't need to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop)...
before i can get a word out, he's flagging the waitress and asking for a refill. i said, "are you sure about that?" he insists and orders one for me also. UGH.
then he proceeds to ask me if i have any dvds or a tv at home (huh? a little back story, we had plans to grab dinner and then go play pool (because we all know i have the pool obsession).
me: um, yea i have tv why?
date: well, i was thinking we could go back to your place and watch tv or any dvds if you have them.
me: um, i guess... my roommate is home and stuff
date: well, don't you have a tv in your room?
(me in my head: WHAT!)
me: um, yea
date: i'm really tired. i just want to go home and relax.
(me in my head: You should. Go to your home. Mi casa no es su casa.)
me: well, let's see.
I try to reason with myself (yea, stop doing that too) and say maybe he's had a super long day, so I agree that we can go chill out at my place for a bit, but warn him yet again that my roommate is there with his man...
As we approach the door to my apartment complex, we see this minivan. The door slides open and out pops a midget (sorry, little person) who grabs a pizza and runs into our building. At this point, I ask if we can step out to my courtyard for a minute so I can catch some air.
After hanging outside for a bit, we go in and as I open the door, there's roomie and beau with mouths of ... yep, pizza.
me: dude, did you just buy pizza from a midget?
roomie: its little person, but yes. i made beau get the door because i couldn't see who was there... then he was holding the pizza over his head.
(hysterical laughing)
anyway, i introduce my sloshed date to roomie and we proceed to watch tv together.. just the 4 of us... now, i go pour myself a real drink because at this point I need one more than he does...
the darling roomie that i have was in the process of doing all of our laundry so i could go out on this disasterous date.. and was just finishing up... date convinces me that we should go and fold my laundry so we go into my room where he after he folds the majority of my laundry, proceeds to start to nap on my bed--and says he thinks we should take a nap. (NO. Not happening.)
i try to do the right thing and wait it out for him to sober up a bit and finally, finally he agrees to go.
see kids, i can't make these things up.. i really wish i could... of course, between the dental floss and the Mr. Right Now shirt, Schmoelle still wins for the worst date competition, but I think I come pretty damn close.
And at least now i can agree with him that dating in DC does indeed suck.
Hope everyone has a great week and I'll give you episode 6 when i get back from Atlanta.
smooch,
G
i was discussing boys with a very good friend today who i miss dearly from my jersey days and we came to a decision that clearly the leftover single boys in this world are all slightly crazy. now as some of you may recall, i went on a very boring date not so long ago... but had i had the choice, i would take super boring guy over this poor girl's tidbit... here is her story:
I have had an interesting past couple weeks dating…. I thought if you don’t sleep with someone they are suppose to call???? I am going to do the opposite of what I would normally do….
I went on a date with this guy last week and he wore a t-shirt the second time we hung out that said MR RIGHT NOW……..needless to say he came by my apt. Sat. night, the third time we met up and he stayed for 30 minutes, then left and hasn’t called me since
Oh and did I mention he stayed at my apt for 30 minutes…and used dental floss???? I noticed after he left???..it was just the strangest thing it like let me get myself ready if we make out but if not I will have clean teeth?
This was all in response to my explanation of my latest adventure... super lightweight. I arrange to go out with someone that seemed normal enough (former model, how can you go wrong with that, right)... but when he arrives he keeps telling me how hungry he is (ok, got it).. so we dash out of the apt. and then after finding him a parking spot (which takes 20 mins. and he complains the entire time about parking in this town), i hustle him along to one of my favorite restaurants. i tell the waitress that he's STARVING so they bring us food right away but not before he has time to order a drink. now, i learned my lesson with super boring guy and usually try not to order alcohol on a first date just in case i need to think clearly, but he kept pushing and asking me if i was a light weight (stop giggling, people)... so i order a glass of wine. he starts chugging down his rum and saying how strong it is... then babbling on and on about his past (and also name drops about all the celebrities he's met (whoopity friggin do) and my personal favorite, abou how dating in dc sucks (HI, you're on a DATE. Again, single boys: NO NEED TO COMPLAIN ABOUT DATING WHEN YOU'RE on a DATE--that's rule #3 for those keeping notes... super boring guy made us learn rule #1--never compare your date to a family member and rule #2--never ever play air guitar with a cue stick and sing at the top of your lungs)
anyway, i order an entree and have a few bites of the appetizer, while he digests a 3 or 4 course meal and continuing to tell me how strong his drink is. i tried it, but i have to tell you, didn't think it was THAT strong. after he asks to have the rest of his dinner wrapped (ew), i ask him if he's ok, and he says yea and then says his roommate always tell people that if they want to take advantage of him to give him two drinks and he's all theirs (ok, that's QUICKLY becoming rule #4--i don't need to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop)...
before i can get a word out, he's flagging the waitress and asking for a refill. i said, "are you sure about that?" he insists and orders one for me also. UGH.
then he proceeds to ask me if i have any dvds or a tv at home (huh? a little back story, we had plans to grab dinner and then go play pool (because we all know i have the pool obsession).
me: um, yea i have tv why?
date: well, i was thinking we could go back to your place and watch tv or any dvds if you have them.
me: um, i guess... my roommate is home and stuff
date: well, don't you have a tv in your room?
(me in my head: WHAT!)
me: um, yea
date: i'm really tired. i just want to go home and relax.
(me in my head: You should. Go to your home. Mi casa no es su casa.)
me: well, let's see.
I try to reason with myself (yea, stop doing that too) and say maybe he's had a super long day, so I agree that we can go chill out at my place for a bit, but warn him yet again that my roommate is there with his man...
As we approach the door to my apartment complex, we see this minivan. The door slides open and out pops a midget (sorry, little person) who grabs a pizza and runs into our building. At this point, I ask if we can step out to my courtyard for a minute so I can catch some air.
After hanging outside for a bit, we go in and as I open the door, there's roomie and beau with mouths of ... yep, pizza.
me: dude, did you just buy pizza from a midget?
roomie: its little person, but yes. i made beau get the door because i couldn't see who was there... then he was holding the pizza over his head.
(hysterical laughing)
anyway, i introduce my sloshed date to roomie and we proceed to watch tv together.. just the 4 of us... now, i go pour myself a real drink because at this point I need one more than he does...
the darling roomie that i have was in the process of doing all of our laundry so i could go out on this disasterous date.. and was just finishing up... date convinces me that we should go and fold my laundry so we go into my room where he after he folds the majority of my laundry, proceeds to start to nap on my bed--and says he thinks we should take a nap. (NO. Not happening.)
i try to do the right thing and wait it out for him to sober up a bit and finally, finally he agrees to go.
see kids, i can't make these things up.. i really wish i could... of course, between the dental floss and the Mr. Right Now shirt, Schmoelle still wins for the worst date competition, but I think I come pretty damn close.
And at least now i can agree with him that dating in DC does indeed suck.
Hope everyone has a great week and I'll give you episode 6 when i get back from Atlanta.
smooch,
G
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Insecta is BACK!!!!
episode 5
"a glimpse into the past"
Lion Bree had come to Vegas from Chicago where he worked for Dudley, Dudley, Mancuso, and Axelstump - a firm with a reputation as solid as peanut butter. They were corporate litigators who sued a shrimp once. But they all drove such lovely cars and wore fine Armani suits. Needless to say, they had produced many enemies. Lion's reasons for being in Vegas were purely personal. He wanted to leave the company and become his own brand of cracker jack lawyer, this time standing up for the rights of the shrimp. The Flamingo deal he had worked out just before he was attacked by Insecta was a labor agreement between the bosses of the Flamingo and the shrimp kept in their restaurant. The new deal stated although the shrimp remained on the menu, they were entitled to caviar so long as they were alive.
Now that Lion was recuperating from his Insecta infection, the doctors were beginning to get a clearer picture of his condition.
"Apparently this Insecta has a venom which makes people bored, listless, frustrated, depressed, irritated -- you get the picture," the doctor told Lion as he was preparing to be discharged, "we'd really like for you to stay on for further testing. You may feel fine now but you could have a relapse."
But the indefatigable Bree would have none of it. "I already missed the nudey boys. I missed out on poker and roulette. If I don't get back to my office in Chicago soon, they'll know something's amiss and I'll get fired. I can't get fired now. I haven't gotten enough private deals set up to support myself."
The doctors quickly huddled and decided to appeal to the police. A call was made to precinct captain tombeau, who was roused from the mild coma he suffered after having had too much gas and nearly asphyxiating himself....
....Insecta, as mentioned before, became the human/fly hybrid after a series of unfortunately nuclear type accidents while camping in the southwest. She had a bad habit of setting up her tent each night on a spot where there had been a nuclear test the day before. That, and the hotdogs she grilled drew radioactive flies who bit her repeatedly.
Of course, she was already a brat because she enjoyed making others angry as a child. Once she stoled her grandmother's wig an hour before her brother's wedding so that grandma had to go bald. She took a magic marker and wrote "old skank" on her grandmother's head while the latter had drifted off during the service. The reception was naturally a disaster for grandma.
Most of her life was spent morphing from a giant fly with a marilyn monroe wig to a mostly human form in clothes but with fly eyes and wings out of her back. She did control which form she took. the more angry she became, the more flylike she looked. Once, she was on a date with Wayne Newton and she was nearly transformed into an all human form but he refused to kiss her because she had wings. Insecta was so angry she bit Mr. Newton. He was lucky to have a troop of a dozen bodyguards or he would have died that night. She did take out 4 of his guards with her vacuum tongue (said to literally suck the fun out of her victims).
Insecta was bitter and she saw Vegas as a fun place where too many people were having fun. She had plagued disneyworld in the past and even did a stint at the washington zoo where she also sucked the fun out of the primates and reptiles along with people. It nearly drove her to an aneurysm that others would laugh when she flew instinctively to puddles of mud or dog doo-doo (natural atraction was unavoidable). But the zoo offered lots of piles for her to consider.
When we last left her, she had taken on her purely Marilyn Monroe fly look and was flying out Mr. Z's roof. she was on her way to Lion Bree's room at the hospital where he was reviving and hurriedly redressing to catch a plane back to Chicago before his superiors figured out what he was doing. Insecta had threatened to glue his pants to his body and steal his skateboard. Insecta was a world class skateboarder. Her wings provided an advantage that most adolescent males do not have.
"Perhaps this time I will wrap my thighs around his neck and pinch his head off," she snickered and grew into a loud cacophonous and sinister laugh. Just the joy of that made her regurgitate on top of the Vegas strip monorail.
"Who cares!" she said as the first chunks went SPLAT!
She flew towards the hospital just as Captain Tombeau called Detective Mangy to report that Lion Bree was not staying in town now that he'd recuperated...
....which brings us back to Detective Mangy and Count Beaumont, who'd just entered the La Croix store. Count Beaumont was looking at a very nice bowtie collection as Mangy was just lifting up a pair of magnificent red leather pumps. Drool oozed at the corners of her mouth. She was just about to look at the price tag when Captain Tombeau's call came through.
"Yes sir?"
"Mangy, Lion's planning to leave town today. We can't hold him on anything but I really wished he stay on to help us in this investigation. I thought you might stop by the hospital yourself and explain why it's better he stays for a day or two more."
"You mean you want me to wear a slinky dress and try to seduce him into staying?"
"Exactly. Everyone else on the force is too out of shape and -- let's face it -- ugly. You're our Greta Garbo. Deal with it."
Mangy was partly insulted that her boss would say such things but she was also partly flattered. Because she was conflicted, she responded, "you're such a kind asshole....however, I think Mr. bree might be better seduced by you, captain. As in, wear your jock strap? Bring some Drambuie?
"Hmmmm," Tombeau responded, "whatever it takes I guess. Okay, I'll do it. But I need for you to get some solid leads on Insecta. where are you now?"
Detective Mangy dropped the shoe she had been holding in her hands, "Nothing. Uhh. I mean I am looking. I am not doing something I shouldn't -- I mean Nothing's going on but an investigation here sir so if you'll excuse me." With that, she hung up.
"What do you think?" asked Count Beaumont. He had on a splendid grey and black silk bowtie and a nice black top hat to match.
"Perfect," Mangy responded. she turned matter of factly to a store attendant and pushed the red shoes into their hands and said, "and i'll take these."
....Mr. Z was originally from a small town in New Jersey called Ocean Grove. He'd always prefered life on the Jersey shore and one might think he'd have started a casino in atlantic city but one year he'd made a trip to vegas for vacation and never left. in truth, he'd expected to stay with the person he had come out with. Although she had remained in vegas herself, she decided not to marry him after all.
You see, both Mr. Z and Detective Mangy arrived in Vegas together some years back, intending to marry. But Detective Mangy backed out at the last minute. It wasn't the Elvis priest. She just felt like shooting people was more her destiny. And Vegas crime was definitely worth the trouble. Mr. Z had been heartbroke for many years about this. He'd always had a big crush on Detective Mangy but she saw him more as a good friend and than a lover. Because his love was unrequited, he grew more bitter. He knew she would be working the Insecta case. he hoped their paths would cross during that investigation. He used insecta to hit other casinos but he didn't expect her reign of terror to last long. it was more to see if Detective Mangy would eventually come to him.
In the mean time, Mr. Z had the companionship of Cheetah Kittens who was currently scrubbing his back with a loofah brush.
"If you would like to dance in my casino, you can do so in the storeroom," he snickered.
Cheetah tried to contain her grief. Her hightops were soaking wet from where he made her put her feet into the hot tub. Her headpiece kept getting whipped by the ceiling fan which mr. Z put everywhere she was allowed to walk around to keep annoying her.
Cheetah Kittens reminded herself of Count Beaumont. He'd surely have enough synapses left to tell someone of her kidnapping, wouldn't he? She begin to have her doubts....
...Outside the La Croix store, Count Beaumont and Detective Mangy were the striking couple. Him in his new bowtie and top hat and her in the most vibrant pair of red pumps ever made. She couldn't stop thinking about "cougar sally" that the count had mentioned.
"Cougar Sally....Cougar Sally -- hmmm. That's not quite right. Let's see - Ocelot Jane? no. Tiger Cathy? No. Wait! You meant Cheetah Kittens!!!"
Mangy was beside herself, jumping in her pumps.
"Yes! That's it. Where I fell out - that was the window to where she is being held. She dropped me to get help." responded Count Beaumont who was clearly blushing at his guilt and forgetfulness.
"We've got to get back over to that alley at once!" Mangy responded.
Beaumont agreed. They rushed across the street and into the alleyway where they met.
"You fell from up there," mangy pointed as she talked, " and that means you came from the Bordello casino."
They decided to head inside and find out what was going on.
Meanwhile, Insecta sat perched outside the window to Lion bree's hospital room. He had completely dressed and had his skateboard at his side and his air line ticket handy but was currently held up by Captain tombeau who'd arrived in a jock strap and a bottle of drambuie.
"come on sexy, " growled the captain, "stay in vegas and party some more."
Captain tombeau waved the bottled in front of Lion's face, "You know you want it."
"if you come any closer, I'll definitely need that drambuie, " lion responded.
Just then, the window shattered as a giant fly busted through the glass.
Before either man had a chance to respond to the initial shock, she tied both up with her special web spinning power and used her fun-sucking tongue to render both half-conscious and depressed. Then, she took both parcels with her hind legs and flew away with both to hide her hostages until the time was right.
...Someone from Mr. Z's staff quickly informed him that Detective Mangy had entered the building. His heart began to pounded uncontrollably.
"Cheetah! Cheetah! My bathrobe at once. She's come at last. Now, we'll give her the ultimatum. Either she marries me as promised. Or Insecta's rain of terror will destroy this town. and what happens in vegas will die in vegas --- boohahahahahahahahahahhaha!"
to be continued.
"a glimpse into the past"
Lion Bree had come to Vegas from Chicago where he worked for Dudley, Dudley, Mancuso, and Axelstump - a firm with a reputation as solid as peanut butter. They were corporate litigators who sued a shrimp once. But they all drove such lovely cars and wore fine Armani suits. Needless to say, they had produced many enemies. Lion's reasons for being in Vegas were purely personal. He wanted to leave the company and become his own brand of cracker jack lawyer, this time standing up for the rights of the shrimp. The Flamingo deal he had worked out just before he was attacked by Insecta was a labor agreement between the bosses of the Flamingo and the shrimp kept in their restaurant. The new deal stated although the shrimp remained on the menu, they were entitled to caviar so long as they were alive.
Now that Lion was recuperating from his Insecta infection, the doctors were beginning to get a clearer picture of his condition.
"Apparently this Insecta has a venom which makes people bored, listless, frustrated, depressed, irritated -- you get the picture," the doctor told Lion as he was preparing to be discharged, "we'd really like for you to stay on for further testing. You may feel fine now but you could have a relapse."
But the indefatigable Bree would have none of it. "I already missed the nudey boys. I missed out on poker and roulette. If I don't get back to my office in Chicago soon, they'll know something's amiss and I'll get fired. I can't get fired now. I haven't gotten enough private deals set up to support myself."
The doctors quickly huddled and decided to appeal to the police. A call was made to precinct captain tombeau, who was roused from the mild coma he suffered after having had too much gas and nearly asphyxiating himself....
....Insecta, as mentioned before, became the human/fly hybrid after a series of unfortunately nuclear type accidents while camping in the southwest. She had a bad habit of setting up her tent each night on a spot where there had been a nuclear test the day before. That, and the hotdogs she grilled drew radioactive flies who bit her repeatedly.
Of course, she was already a brat because she enjoyed making others angry as a child. Once she stoled her grandmother's wig an hour before her brother's wedding so that grandma had to go bald. She took a magic marker and wrote "old skank" on her grandmother's head while the latter had drifted off during the service. The reception was naturally a disaster for grandma.
Most of her life was spent morphing from a giant fly with a marilyn monroe wig to a mostly human form in clothes but with fly eyes and wings out of her back. She did control which form she took. the more angry she became, the more flylike she looked. Once, she was on a date with Wayne Newton and she was nearly transformed into an all human form but he refused to kiss her because she had wings. Insecta was so angry she bit Mr. Newton. He was lucky to have a troop of a dozen bodyguards or he would have died that night. She did take out 4 of his guards with her vacuum tongue (said to literally suck the fun out of her victims).
Insecta was bitter and she saw Vegas as a fun place where too many people were having fun. She had plagued disneyworld in the past and even did a stint at the washington zoo where she also sucked the fun out of the primates and reptiles along with people. It nearly drove her to an aneurysm that others would laugh when she flew instinctively to puddles of mud or dog doo-doo (natural atraction was unavoidable). But the zoo offered lots of piles for her to consider.
When we last left her, she had taken on her purely Marilyn Monroe fly look and was flying out Mr. Z's roof. she was on her way to Lion Bree's room at the hospital where he was reviving and hurriedly redressing to catch a plane back to Chicago before his superiors figured out what he was doing. Insecta had threatened to glue his pants to his body and steal his skateboard. Insecta was a world class skateboarder. Her wings provided an advantage that most adolescent males do not have.
"Perhaps this time I will wrap my thighs around his neck and pinch his head off," she snickered and grew into a loud cacophonous and sinister laugh. Just the joy of that made her regurgitate on top of the Vegas strip monorail.
"Who cares!" she said as the first chunks went SPLAT!
She flew towards the hospital just as Captain Tombeau called Detective Mangy to report that Lion Bree was not staying in town now that he'd recuperated...
....which brings us back to Detective Mangy and Count Beaumont, who'd just entered the La Croix store. Count Beaumont was looking at a very nice bowtie collection as Mangy was just lifting up a pair of magnificent red leather pumps. Drool oozed at the corners of her mouth. She was just about to look at the price tag when Captain Tombeau's call came through.
"Yes sir?"
"Mangy, Lion's planning to leave town today. We can't hold him on anything but I really wished he stay on to help us in this investigation. I thought you might stop by the hospital yourself and explain why it's better he stays for a day or two more."
"You mean you want me to wear a slinky dress and try to seduce him into staying?"
"Exactly. Everyone else on the force is too out of shape and -- let's face it -- ugly. You're our Greta Garbo. Deal with it."
Mangy was partly insulted that her boss would say such things but she was also partly flattered. Because she was conflicted, she responded, "you're such a kind asshole....however, I think Mr. bree might be better seduced by you, captain. As in, wear your jock strap? Bring some Drambuie?
"Hmmmm," Tombeau responded, "whatever it takes I guess. Okay, I'll do it. But I need for you to get some solid leads on Insecta. where are you now?"
Detective Mangy dropped the shoe she had been holding in her hands, "Nothing. Uhh. I mean I am looking. I am not doing something I shouldn't -- I mean Nothing's going on but an investigation here sir so if you'll excuse me." With that, she hung up.
"What do you think?" asked Count Beaumont. He had on a splendid grey and black silk bowtie and a nice black top hat to match.
"Perfect," Mangy responded. she turned matter of factly to a store attendant and pushed the red shoes into their hands and said, "and i'll take these."
....Mr. Z was originally from a small town in New Jersey called Ocean Grove. He'd always prefered life on the Jersey shore and one might think he'd have started a casino in atlantic city but one year he'd made a trip to vegas for vacation and never left. in truth, he'd expected to stay with the person he had come out with. Although she had remained in vegas herself, she decided not to marry him after all.
You see, both Mr. Z and Detective Mangy arrived in Vegas together some years back, intending to marry. But Detective Mangy backed out at the last minute. It wasn't the Elvis priest. She just felt like shooting people was more her destiny. And Vegas crime was definitely worth the trouble. Mr. Z had been heartbroke for many years about this. He'd always had a big crush on Detective Mangy but she saw him more as a good friend and than a lover. Because his love was unrequited, he grew more bitter. He knew she would be working the Insecta case. he hoped their paths would cross during that investigation. He used insecta to hit other casinos but he didn't expect her reign of terror to last long. it was more to see if Detective Mangy would eventually come to him.
In the mean time, Mr. Z had the companionship of Cheetah Kittens who was currently scrubbing his back with a loofah brush.
"If you would like to dance in my casino, you can do so in the storeroom," he snickered.
Cheetah tried to contain her grief. Her hightops were soaking wet from where he made her put her feet into the hot tub. Her headpiece kept getting whipped by the ceiling fan which mr. Z put everywhere she was allowed to walk around to keep annoying her.
Cheetah Kittens reminded herself of Count Beaumont. He'd surely have enough synapses left to tell someone of her kidnapping, wouldn't he? She begin to have her doubts....
...Outside the La Croix store, Count Beaumont and Detective Mangy were the striking couple. Him in his new bowtie and top hat and her in the most vibrant pair of red pumps ever made. She couldn't stop thinking about "cougar sally" that the count had mentioned.
"Cougar Sally....Cougar Sally -- hmmm. That's not quite right. Let's see - Ocelot Jane? no. Tiger Cathy? No. Wait! You meant Cheetah Kittens!!!"
Mangy was beside herself, jumping in her pumps.
"Yes! That's it. Where I fell out - that was the window to where she is being held. She dropped me to get help." responded Count Beaumont who was clearly blushing at his guilt and forgetfulness.
"We've got to get back over to that alley at once!" Mangy responded.
Beaumont agreed. They rushed across the street and into the alleyway where they met.
"You fell from up there," mangy pointed as she talked, " and that means you came from the Bordello casino."
They decided to head inside and find out what was going on.
Meanwhile, Insecta sat perched outside the window to Lion bree's hospital room. He had completely dressed and had his skateboard at his side and his air line ticket handy but was currently held up by Captain tombeau who'd arrived in a jock strap and a bottle of drambuie.
"come on sexy, " growled the captain, "stay in vegas and party some more."
Captain tombeau waved the bottled in front of Lion's face, "You know you want it."
"if you come any closer, I'll definitely need that drambuie, " lion responded.
Just then, the window shattered as a giant fly busted through the glass.
Before either man had a chance to respond to the initial shock, she tied both up with her special web spinning power and used her fun-sucking tongue to render both half-conscious and depressed. Then, she took both parcels with her hind legs and flew away with both to hide her hostages until the time was right.
...Someone from Mr. Z's staff quickly informed him that Detective Mangy had entered the building. His heart began to pounded uncontrollably.
"Cheetah! Cheetah! My bathrobe at once. She's come at last. Now, we'll give her the ultimatum. Either she marries me as promised. Or Insecta's rain of terror will destroy this town. and what happens in vegas will die in vegas --- boohahahahahahahahahahhaha!"
to be continued.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
making me work for my blog
ok, i wasn't saved by insecta, vol. 5 like i thought... so i have to bore you with my tidbits from the life of G.....
so, i've heard my blog is becoming popular and that i'm funny... well thanks a latte! that's great and i decided to finally post it publicly, so once the book deals start coming in i'll be sure to have disclaimers ready for anybody who would prefer to have their name changed....
let's see... if i was technologically advanced, i'd be able to post pics of my apt and how cute it turned out ... i'd also be able to post my bank statement and thank you letters from my credit card company for spending so much money...
but i digress, life is going to be pretty chaotic over the next few weeks, flying to atlanta for 5 days for work and then heading up to the jersey shore (and yes people from jersey, i only call it the shore... people don't get it, but its not the beach, its the shore)... so i'm going to do my best to get all my blogging out so i keep you all posted... i'm sure the flight will involve some more inappropriate touching from some great airline security guards.... especially since i need to have scissors to unpack the boxes for my booth for my job.. looking forward to that!
we had our housewarming party this weekend too (hence the cute new look to our place, 4 solid hours finally organizing my clothes, our new costco membership (apparently, you can't just show there and look cute, you have to a member.. fascists) and the million dollars i owe to chase visa, at&t universal card and commerce debit)... while storms seemed to scare most of the visitors we had fun (typical) and ended the night with our usual bang (ok, not that type of bang, dirty minds, the type that involves some form of paris hilton type scenario like table top dancing at 3 am or eating a queen cut prime rib at 4)... not that i can tell you too much about the bang, but judging by the undercurrent of head throbbing and the fact that i woke up and ate from a bowl of pasta i found on my coffee table... i'm guessing it was a good one. of course, the night may've been better with some low-carb brownies, but beggers can't be choosers. (kidding, i'd chose the company over the brownies, alright, 1/2 kidding) :-)
other than that, life is pretty much status quo at the moment... apart from the lack of sleep, the groggy y foggy head from partying like a rock star last night, the fact that other than the bite of pasta from the coffee table, the only other thing i ate today was puff pastry appetizers and was crying for a donut and then sent back to bed by my roommate (something about the fact that i woke up at 8 am, drank 4 cups of iced coffee, cleaned the entire apt., started a wine rack and had a scary twitch and shake about me)...
hope all is well in the wonderful world of jersey!
smooch,
G
so, i've heard my blog is becoming popular and that i'm funny... well thanks a latte! that's great and i decided to finally post it publicly, so once the book deals start coming in i'll be sure to have disclaimers ready for anybody who would prefer to have their name changed....
let's see... if i was technologically advanced, i'd be able to post pics of my apt and how cute it turned out ... i'd also be able to post my bank statement and thank you letters from my credit card company for spending so much money...
but i digress, life is going to be pretty chaotic over the next few weeks, flying to atlanta for 5 days for work and then heading up to the jersey shore (and yes people from jersey, i only call it the shore... people don't get it, but its not the beach, its the shore)... so i'm going to do my best to get all my blogging out so i keep you all posted... i'm sure the flight will involve some more inappropriate touching from some great airline security guards.... especially since i need to have scissors to unpack the boxes for my booth for my job.. looking forward to that!
we had our housewarming party this weekend too (hence the cute new look to our place, 4 solid hours finally organizing my clothes, our new costco membership (apparently, you can't just show there and look cute, you have to a member.. fascists) and the million dollars i owe to chase visa, at&t universal card and commerce debit)... while storms seemed to scare most of the visitors we had fun (typical) and ended the night with our usual bang (ok, not that type of bang, dirty minds, the type that involves some form of paris hilton type scenario like table top dancing at 3 am or eating a queen cut prime rib at 4)... not that i can tell you too much about the bang, but judging by the undercurrent of head throbbing and the fact that i woke up and ate from a bowl of pasta i found on my coffee table... i'm guessing it was a good one. of course, the night may've been better with some low-carb brownies, but beggers can't be choosers. (kidding, i'd chose the company over the brownies, alright, 1/2 kidding) :-)
other than that, life is pretty much status quo at the moment... apart from the lack of sleep, the groggy y foggy head from partying like a rock star last night, the fact that other than the bite of pasta from the coffee table, the only other thing i ate today was puff pastry appetizers and was crying for a donut and then sent back to bed by my roommate (something about the fact that i woke up at 8 am, drank 4 cups of iced coffee, cleaned the entire apt., started a wine rack and had a scary twitch and shake about me)...
hope all is well in the wonderful world of jersey!
smooch,
G
Saturday, May 07, 2005
week wrap-up (double feature!)
Here’s a bunch of random updates while we all wait patiently for another Insecta episode…
Victor vs. Exercise
Unfortunately Victor won the battle between me and exercise this week… I was able to take out the trampoline I bought to upset my downstairs neighbors at my old place (because my upstairs neighbor was nicknamed “princess thunderfoot” so I thought it was only fair that the people below us get equal treatment)… but hopefully this week, I’ll actually use it, or the fitness center, or go out and take a walk.. or breathe in and out…
In the style of NASCAR..
I get a lot of flack from new roomie… but perhaps the biggest issue he has is with the fact that I both bet on and have been to NASCAR races… yes, I can see this could be considered typically out of character for me, but then again, I do a lot of things that I consider out of character… the bottom line is that I love betting and I get super excited about whatever I have money on… and since currently I’m number one in my yearly NASCAR pool, I do keep checking on my bet because I want the little trophy and the cash…
Ok, now, I know there are a few of you that just read that and said, “whatever, we know the truth”. Fine, there is a smaller part of the story that I omitted and that’s the fact that I also suffer quite seriously from sports terrets. That’s right when placed in front of live or televised sports, I start screaming at the top of my lungs regardless of whether or not I know anything about the sport I’m watching. I personally think my disorder grew while living with schmeffy (he’s a closet sports terreter). I guess I finally realized I was a sufferer when I went to my first Dover race and was louder than the cars going by. Having this condition also led to my dislike of live tennis because schmeffy took me to the US Open where I was told I had to be quiet the entire time or we would be kicked out... I was pretty sure that he either packed duct tape or wouldn't hesitate to say he didn't know me and leave me in the middle of Forest Hills Queens, so I obliged but did give him dirty looks the entire time because there was this group of VERY loud Venus Williams lovers screaming at the top of their lungs.
But I digress, now anything in b's mind that has a folk-like feel immediately becomes “so nascar”… tonight he described BNL’s “if I had a million dollars” and Stevie Ray Vaughn as in the tune of nascar….
So to prove that he also has slight quirks in his character, I’ve attached the following conversation between Melissa and myself…
Me: crikey, b is hanging art
Melissa: ahh
Me: determined to fix a frame of mine, he has some kind of tube of glue and is using a qtip to do something with it
Melissa: ahhhh
Me: he hasn't stuck himself to himself yet, so i think we're ok
Melissa: lol
Melissa: good thing
Me: he's moved on.. this is the point in the evening where he starts a million projects and then leaves them
Melissa: hearing that makes me think that it would be a bad idea to start painting the pantry right now
Me: hee hee, he also rearranges all the furniture and the closets
Melissa: send him here!
Melissa: we need arranging
Me: i yelled at him the other day for arranging all the stuff at his height level…i feel like i'm living in a giant's world…i can't even reach the showerhead
Melissa: tall people!
Me: you should see me try to get dishes
Me: i have to do a little jump
Melissa: lol
Me: followed by a lil whine when i can't reach so he'll come in and get them
Melissa: nice
i hope you all enjoyed this weekend's double feature... if i'm not censored by new roomie, i'll be back with more adventures.
smooch,
G
Victor vs. Exercise
Unfortunately Victor won the battle between me and exercise this week… I was able to take out the trampoline I bought to upset my downstairs neighbors at my old place (because my upstairs neighbor was nicknamed “princess thunderfoot” so I thought it was only fair that the people below us get equal treatment)… but hopefully this week, I’ll actually use it, or the fitness center, or go out and take a walk.. or breathe in and out…
In the style of NASCAR..
I get a lot of flack from new roomie… but perhaps the biggest issue he has is with the fact that I both bet on and have been to NASCAR races… yes, I can see this could be considered typically out of character for me, but then again, I do a lot of things that I consider out of character… the bottom line is that I love betting and I get super excited about whatever I have money on… and since currently I’m number one in my yearly NASCAR pool, I do keep checking on my bet because I want the little trophy and the cash…
Ok, now, I know there are a few of you that just read that and said, “whatever, we know the truth”. Fine, there is a smaller part of the story that I omitted and that’s the fact that I also suffer quite seriously from sports terrets. That’s right when placed in front of live or televised sports, I start screaming at the top of my lungs regardless of whether or not I know anything about the sport I’m watching. I personally think my disorder grew while living with schmeffy (he’s a closet sports terreter). I guess I finally realized I was a sufferer when I went to my first Dover race and was louder than the cars going by. Having this condition also led to my dislike of live tennis because schmeffy took me to the US Open where I was told I had to be quiet the entire time or we would be kicked out... I was pretty sure that he either packed duct tape or wouldn't hesitate to say he didn't know me and leave me in the middle of Forest Hills Queens, so I obliged but did give him dirty looks the entire time because there was this group of VERY loud Venus Williams lovers screaming at the top of their lungs.
But I digress, now anything in b's mind that has a folk-like feel immediately becomes “so nascar”… tonight he described BNL’s “if I had a million dollars” and Stevie Ray Vaughn as in the tune of nascar….
So to prove that he also has slight quirks in his character, I’ve attached the following conversation between Melissa and myself…
Me: crikey, b is hanging art
Melissa: ahh
Me: determined to fix a frame of mine, he has some kind of tube of glue and is using a qtip to do something with it
Melissa: ahhhh
Me: he hasn't stuck himself to himself yet, so i think we're ok
Melissa: lol
Melissa: good thing
Me: he's moved on.. this is the point in the evening where he starts a million projects and then leaves them
Melissa: hearing that makes me think that it would be a bad idea to start painting the pantry right now
Me: hee hee, he also rearranges all the furniture and the closets
Melissa: send him here!
Melissa: we need arranging
Me: i yelled at him the other day for arranging all the stuff at his height level…i feel like i'm living in a giant's world…i can't even reach the showerhead
Melissa: tall people!
Me: you should see me try to get dishes
Me: i have to do a little jump
Melissa: lol
Me: followed by a lil whine when i can't reach so he'll come in and get them
Melissa: nice
i hope you all enjoyed this weekend's double feature... if i'm not censored by new roomie, i'll be back with more adventures.
smooch,
G
It's a girl!
I’m not going to list all the reasons why men can be luckier than women. I will tell you that among the top 5 include the fact that you can go to the bathroom whenever and wherever you choose AND that your “man doctor” is hardly as invasive as a woman’s doctor. Sorry boys, but turn your head and cough is not nearly as bad as “you’ll feel some pressure” while laying on some medieval stir-up contraption awaiting what can only be described as metallic salad tongs to be inserted in various crevices, all while wearing a pink napkin as a “drape” or “robe” (Note to the no-talent ass clown that invented the pink napkin outfit… really, we don’t feel any more “girly” in the pink napkin, you can go back to white, it’s a waste of everyone’s time and money for us to even pretend we like the pink under these circumstances)
Going to the “female doctor” (as my mother would describe it), is one of my favorite things besides eating shards of glass. And finding a doctor (especially one that is likable) is a whole other experience. I hate doctors, truly. I try to only play one on TV (see old Bob y Gina file footage) or work for them. After 7 surgeries, I’ve become a medical expert in the ob/gyn field and for the most part I can diagnose. Of course, no one would ever trust me with a prescription pad, but that’s probably smart.
So, after getting slightly lost in Georgetown (you have to love a city that cuts off a street, only to have it reconnect somewhere else), I enter my new doctor’s office. Trying super hard not to have a panic attack, I approach the lovely receptionist behind the desk who hands me the 42 different forms I need to fill out, just for this doctor to see me.
Realizing this could take awhile I asked where the bathroom was and was told “you need to give a specimen, so you’ll have to wait”. Ok, 2 things about this:
If I was a man, the specimen process would be super easy
I really really had to go.
Defeated, I crossed my legs and started on the forms. By the way, does anyone tell the truth on those forms?? If I answered some of the questions honestly, I think they’d lock me up (my personal favorite though is the question about “street drugs”—marijuana, heroin, crack rock?). I notice these forms are a little stranger this time asking me questions about “the father” and “my last pregnancy”. After reaching the end of the forms, I feel like a tick about to pop and luckily I hear my name being called out. I jump up and say “Here!” like a kindergartener getting ready for coloring time (did I mention I really miss crayons recently)… and I dash over to the nurse. I explain that I really, really have to go to the bathroom and that the receptionist said I needed to give a little back… She says, “oh sweetie, wait a minute, we have to get your blood pressure and weight before we do that”…
WHAT?! Do I really need to have someone put me on that crappy scale where they always sigh as they push the little tabs over and over, then they wait, realize its not balanced, sigh again and then scream the number like doing a price check in a grocery store?
Knowing that I have a typically bad attitude with doctors, I try to be a super good sport and let the woman humiliate me on the scale and take my blood pressure (which was high… gee, maybe because my bladder was floating and I was super aggravated)… after she was done, I ask nicely again, may I please use the bathroom (keep in mind, we’re almost 1 full hour into this request).. and she says, well the doctor will be right here and he can make that decision… (AHHHH) as she goes to close the door on the exam room, she says “by the way, congratulations!”
Ok, that’s when I had to speak up…
Me: Congratulations?
Nurse: Yes, congratulations on your new baby. (spoken in the tone of DUH)
Me: huh?
Nurse: Well, you’re pregnant aren’t you?
Me: WHAT. You haven’t even gotten urine from me, how can you tell that?
Nurse: Well it says so right here on the forms.
Me: Ma’am, I assure you the only way I’m pregnant is if you believe very heavily in Jesus and in which case I’d prepare for the second coming
Nurse: So you’re not pregnant?
Me: No.
Nurse: Are you SURE you’re not pregnant?
Me: Yea. VERY.
Nurse: Hmmm, well I wonder why they made you fill out all these forms. I’ll be back.
Me: May I PLEASE pee now.
Nurse: Oh, of course, we don’t need a specimen if you’re not pregnant and you’re saying that you’re not.
After finally getting to go, I head back to the exam room where I meet my good-looking new doctor. A very strange quirk of mine is my ability to pick handsome “female doctors”. Both my mother and my sister thought my old doctor was so good looking they started going to him… Trust me when I tell you that nothing is more embarrassing then witnessing your mother giving doe-eyes to your “female doctor”. This one is no different but after again checking with me that I’m not pregnant (NO, I swear…) gives me the quick clean bill of health and off I go…
The lessons you should’ve learned today are:
1. Always go to the bathroom before going to the doctor.
2. Always check health forms and if they ask about “the father”, realize they are the wrong forms.
3. Help me petition the pink napkin robe makers to turn the napkins back to white.
Enjoy the weekend!
Smooch,
G
Going to the “female doctor” (as my mother would describe it), is one of my favorite things besides eating shards of glass. And finding a doctor (especially one that is likable) is a whole other experience. I hate doctors, truly. I try to only play one on TV (see old Bob y Gina file footage) or work for them. After 7 surgeries, I’ve become a medical expert in the ob/gyn field and for the most part I can diagnose. Of course, no one would ever trust me with a prescription pad, but that’s probably smart.
So, after getting slightly lost in Georgetown (you have to love a city that cuts off a street, only to have it reconnect somewhere else), I enter my new doctor’s office. Trying super hard not to have a panic attack, I approach the lovely receptionist behind the desk who hands me the 42 different forms I need to fill out, just for this doctor to see me.
Realizing this could take awhile I asked where the bathroom was and was told “you need to give a specimen, so you’ll have to wait”. Ok, 2 things about this:
If I was a man, the specimen process would be super easy
I really really had to go.
Defeated, I crossed my legs and started on the forms. By the way, does anyone tell the truth on those forms?? If I answered some of the questions honestly, I think they’d lock me up (my personal favorite though is the question about “street drugs”—marijuana, heroin, crack rock?). I notice these forms are a little stranger this time asking me questions about “the father” and “my last pregnancy”. After reaching the end of the forms, I feel like a tick about to pop and luckily I hear my name being called out. I jump up and say “Here!” like a kindergartener getting ready for coloring time (did I mention I really miss crayons recently)… and I dash over to the nurse. I explain that I really, really have to go to the bathroom and that the receptionist said I needed to give a little back… She says, “oh sweetie, wait a minute, we have to get your blood pressure and weight before we do that”…
WHAT?! Do I really need to have someone put me on that crappy scale where they always sigh as they push the little tabs over and over, then they wait, realize its not balanced, sigh again and then scream the number like doing a price check in a grocery store?
Knowing that I have a typically bad attitude with doctors, I try to be a super good sport and let the woman humiliate me on the scale and take my blood pressure (which was high… gee, maybe because my bladder was floating and I was super aggravated)… after she was done, I ask nicely again, may I please use the bathroom (keep in mind, we’re almost 1 full hour into this request).. and she says, well the doctor will be right here and he can make that decision… (AHHHH) as she goes to close the door on the exam room, she says “by the way, congratulations!”
Ok, that’s when I had to speak up…
Me: Congratulations?
Nurse: Yes, congratulations on your new baby. (spoken in the tone of DUH)
Me: huh?
Nurse: Well, you’re pregnant aren’t you?
Me: WHAT. You haven’t even gotten urine from me, how can you tell that?
Nurse: Well it says so right here on the forms.
Me: Ma’am, I assure you the only way I’m pregnant is if you believe very heavily in Jesus and in which case I’d prepare for the second coming
Nurse: So you’re not pregnant?
Me: No.
Nurse: Are you SURE you’re not pregnant?
Me: Yea. VERY.
Nurse: Hmmm, well I wonder why they made you fill out all these forms. I’ll be back.
Me: May I PLEASE pee now.
Nurse: Oh, of course, we don’t need a specimen if you’re not pregnant and you’re saying that you’re not.
After finally getting to go, I head back to the exam room where I meet my good-looking new doctor. A very strange quirk of mine is my ability to pick handsome “female doctors”. Both my mother and my sister thought my old doctor was so good looking they started going to him… Trust me when I tell you that nothing is more embarrassing then witnessing your mother giving doe-eyes to your “female doctor”. This one is no different but after again checking with me that I’m not pregnant (NO, I swear…) gives me the quick clean bill of health and off I go…
The lessons you should’ve learned today are:
1. Always go to the bathroom before going to the doctor.
2. Always check health forms and if they ask about “the father”, realize they are the wrong forms.
3. Help me petition the pink napkin robe makers to turn the napkins back to white.
Enjoy the weekend!
Smooch,
G
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
insecta vol. 4
What can I say... this man is on fire.... I can't wait to be his book publicist when this gets picked up.... I present Vol. 4 of Insecta.
Insecta
episode 4, "Count Beaumont"
It is an unfortunate fact that Count Beaumont had had a troubled past including some severe addiction issues. Although he had rehabilitated and had been clean and sober for a good decade or more, there was a time when he never knew a day where he hadn't enjoyed one of his favorite "artic belly love bombs" which included tabs of acid and white castle burgers dissolved in tequila - and that was just what he used for bong water. Count Beaumont was a mess but he did enjoy many a backstage party with the best in the business. Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd, AC-DC, Van Halen, and - his personal favorite - Poison. You simply cannot do enough unskinny bopping.
After rehab, CB (as his close friends called him) was living the good life on the beaches of Maui working as a cocktail waiter (can't beat an penquin for service) when the mysterious Mr. Z kidnapped him and forced him to spend his life as a caged pet. That was until he was sprung by the lovely and talented Cheetah Kittens....
"I say, you're a rather dapper looking cop," said Count Beaumont to Detective Mangy.
She was still a bit shocked that a penguin had fallen on her head.
"Why thank you," replied Mangy quizzically.
"I've just been sprung but my mind isn't what it once was so I am not sure what I am supposed to do now. In fact, I forgot who sprung me," said Count Beaumont with some trepidation and a half smirk.
"Sprung?" asked Det. Mangy.
"Yes. I know I was being held in a cage but some showgirl - uh - oh, wait - it's coming to me - uh Cougar Sally?" he offered confused.
Detective Mangy felt as if she knew someone with that name. She asked the penguin calmly, "so your were just released from captivity by this Cougar Sally? hmmm, Cougar Sally....Cougar Sally."
"Yes," replied Count Beaumont, "my name is count beaumont.""Count Beaumont?!!!" said Det. Mangy, "how'd you get that name?"
"I was born in Antartica and my family moved to New Zealand so my father could find work in the garment industry. I saved the Archduke of Chichester's life when he fell during a skiing accident and was left dangling by his long curly locks of hair over a cliff," said Count Beaumont with pride.
"Did you fly to him?" asked Detective Mangy confused.
"no, silly. penguins can't fly. I took a helicopter," replied CB.
"He gave you your title?" asked Detective Mangy.
"Oh heavens no. penguins can't hold titles. he gave me the name count beaumont because it was beaumont ridge where he fell," answered CB, "and I counted on a nice reward to help my father start his own garment manufacturing place."
"Oh." answered Detective Mangy, no less confused.
Detective Mangy paused for a moment to consider what to do next. She was on her way to find Insecta but now she felt the penguin was slowly developing a lead on another case involving kidnapping.
"Okay so tell me more about Cougar sally," asked Det. Mangy calmly.
"That's not her name. Oh Gosh, what is it?!!" said Count Beaumont, exasperated.
Just then Detective Mangy glanced across the street and notice a pair of red pumps in the window of a La Croix store. They were magnificently red. Gleaming like a beacon of Dorothy shoes calling you home to Kansas. "I must have them" repeated like a ferocious tantric mantra to the Krishnapumpashoe goddess.
"Perhaps some shopping will help you remember." Detective Mangy took the penguin by his flipper wing to help him cross the street. "Shopping always helps me remember things I forget."
"I could use a new bowtie," responded Beaumont.
With that, the two crossed the street towards the La Croix store.
Meanwhile......on the other side of Vegas, Lion Bree was slowly overcoming his morosity coma and recalling his next business meeting was in two hours. He began to pull the iv's from his arms and jumped from his hospital bed in search of his clothes. He grabbed his cell phone and began frantically to run through the numbers in search of his clients' contact number. What he did not know -- what he could not know is once Insecta has drained the fun from a victim, each time the fun returns to that victim, Insecta's instincts know. For the most part, she ignored the "call back" effect, but Lion Bree was a special victim because she had deliberately attacked him to incite Detective Mangy and the police department.
So....back at the mysterious Mr. Z's hideaway...
Cheetah Kittens returned to Mr. Z's office with a fresh plate of licorice. Insecta turned and sneered at her as she arrived with the tray. Mr. Z smiled at her but in a slimeball kind of way.
"Is this silly licorice wench still capable of dancing?" barked Insecta, "or does she just take up space?"
"She can dance but refuses, " retorted Mr. Z.
"Perhaps I can help," Insecta said with menacing gloom.Insecta slowly lowered her sucking tongue near Cheetah's face. Cheetah could only close her eyes and shake in fear. Suddenly Insecta felt the presence of Lion Bree's waking.
"Ah! That crackerjack lawyer's awake!!! This time, I'll not only suck the fun from him, I'll also take his skateboard and glue on his jeans so he can't have any fun in the grope room at that dive he calls a bar!!!" she exploded with rage, "But first, I shall ride the monorail up and down the strip and I'll attack every rider who gets on! hahahahahahahaha!!!!"
Insecta spread her wings and flew up through the roof with speed beyond explanation. Mr Z. was pissed off he'd have to replace the ceiling again. Cheetah was relieved to not get infected by Insecta.
Strangely, as she acended into the sky, Insecta never noticed Detective Mangy and Count Beaumont openning the door to the La Croix store, which was unfortunate because those were no ordinary pair of pumps.....
to be continued.
Insecta
episode 4, "Count Beaumont"
It is an unfortunate fact that Count Beaumont had had a troubled past including some severe addiction issues. Although he had rehabilitated and had been clean and sober for a good decade or more, there was a time when he never knew a day where he hadn't enjoyed one of his favorite "artic belly love bombs" which included tabs of acid and white castle burgers dissolved in tequila - and that was just what he used for bong water. Count Beaumont was a mess but he did enjoy many a backstage party with the best in the business. Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd, AC-DC, Van Halen, and - his personal favorite - Poison. You simply cannot do enough unskinny bopping.
After rehab, CB (as his close friends called him) was living the good life on the beaches of Maui working as a cocktail waiter (can't beat an penquin for service) when the mysterious Mr. Z kidnapped him and forced him to spend his life as a caged pet. That was until he was sprung by the lovely and talented Cheetah Kittens....
"I say, you're a rather dapper looking cop," said Count Beaumont to Detective Mangy.
She was still a bit shocked that a penguin had fallen on her head.
"Why thank you," replied Mangy quizzically.
"I've just been sprung but my mind isn't what it once was so I am not sure what I am supposed to do now. In fact, I forgot who sprung me," said Count Beaumont with some trepidation and a half smirk.
"Sprung?" asked Det. Mangy.
"Yes. I know I was being held in a cage but some showgirl - uh - oh, wait - it's coming to me - uh Cougar Sally?" he offered confused.
Detective Mangy felt as if she knew someone with that name. She asked the penguin calmly, "so your were just released from captivity by this Cougar Sally? hmmm, Cougar Sally....Cougar Sally."
"Yes," replied Count Beaumont, "my name is count beaumont.""Count Beaumont?!!!" said Det. Mangy, "how'd you get that name?"
"I was born in Antartica and my family moved to New Zealand so my father could find work in the garment industry. I saved the Archduke of Chichester's life when he fell during a skiing accident and was left dangling by his long curly locks of hair over a cliff," said Count Beaumont with pride.
"Did you fly to him?" asked Detective Mangy confused.
"no, silly. penguins can't fly. I took a helicopter," replied CB.
"He gave you your title?" asked Detective Mangy.
"Oh heavens no. penguins can't hold titles. he gave me the name count beaumont because it was beaumont ridge where he fell," answered CB, "and I counted on a nice reward to help my father start his own garment manufacturing place."
"Oh." answered Detective Mangy, no less confused.
Detective Mangy paused for a moment to consider what to do next. She was on her way to find Insecta but now she felt the penguin was slowly developing a lead on another case involving kidnapping.
"Okay so tell me more about Cougar sally," asked Det. Mangy calmly.
"That's not her name. Oh Gosh, what is it?!!" said Count Beaumont, exasperated.
Just then Detective Mangy glanced across the street and notice a pair of red pumps in the window of a La Croix store. They were magnificently red. Gleaming like a beacon of Dorothy shoes calling you home to Kansas. "I must have them" repeated like a ferocious tantric mantra to the Krishnapumpashoe goddess.
"Perhaps some shopping will help you remember." Detective Mangy took the penguin by his flipper wing to help him cross the street. "Shopping always helps me remember things I forget."
"I could use a new bowtie," responded Beaumont.
With that, the two crossed the street towards the La Croix store.
Meanwhile......on the other side of Vegas, Lion Bree was slowly overcoming his morosity coma and recalling his next business meeting was in two hours. He began to pull the iv's from his arms and jumped from his hospital bed in search of his clothes. He grabbed his cell phone and began frantically to run through the numbers in search of his clients' contact number. What he did not know -- what he could not know is once Insecta has drained the fun from a victim, each time the fun returns to that victim, Insecta's instincts know. For the most part, she ignored the "call back" effect, but Lion Bree was a special victim because she had deliberately attacked him to incite Detective Mangy and the police department.
So....back at the mysterious Mr. Z's hideaway...
Cheetah Kittens returned to Mr. Z's office with a fresh plate of licorice. Insecta turned and sneered at her as she arrived with the tray. Mr. Z smiled at her but in a slimeball kind of way.
"Is this silly licorice wench still capable of dancing?" barked Insecta, "or does she just take up space?"
"She can dance but refuses, " retorted Mr. Z.
"Perhaps I can help," Insecta said with menacing gloom.Insecta slowly lowered her sucking tongue near Cheetah's face. Cheetah could only close her eyes and shake in fear. Suddenly Insecta felt the presence of Lion Bree's waking.
"Ah! That crackerjack lawyer's awake!!! This time, I'll not only suck the fun from him, I'll also take his skateboard and glue on his jeans so he can't have any fun in the grope room at that dive he calls a bar!!!" she exploded with rage, "But first, I shall ride the monorail up and down the strip and I'll attack every rider who gets on! hahahahahahahaha!!!!"
Insecta spread her wings and flew up through the roof with speed beyond explanation. Mr Z. was pissed off he'd have to replace the ceiling again. Cheetah was relieved to not get infected by Insecta.
Strangely, as she acended into the sky, Insecta never noticed Detective Mangy and Count Beaumont openning the door to the La Croix store, which was unfortunate because those were no ordinary pair of pumps.....
to be continued.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Insecta, Vol. 3
I'm so happy to have Vol. 3 to share with you all. I have to tell you this may be my favorite one. I laughed, I cried... I don't have words worthy of describing it... ladies (well lady, hi melissa) and gentlemen, I gave you Vol. 3 of Insecta....
Insecta
Part 3 "Life on the dark side"
Insecta hadn't always been such a killjoy. When she was six she planned a special surprise birthday party for her mother. But when the cake candles inadvertently set some of the paper decorations on fire leading to her family home being burnt down, Insecta realized the joy of making others upset. Later, after several nuclear accidents where she, by coincidence, was vacationing she developed the power to suck the fun out of people like a mosquito draws blood.
No one knew it, but a mysterious Mr. Z., who owned and operated several casinos in Las Vegas had recently contacted Insecta. Mr. Z's theory was if she attacked people who left rival casinos (as Lion Bree had been when attacked outside the Flamingo) his business would flourish while rival casinos would start to loose business. In exchange, Mr. Z gave Insecta her most covetted and valued thing -- next to gloom, of course -- licorice.
After her taunting of Detective Mangy with red pumps and while Mangy was visiting Mr. Bree to interview him for clues, Insecta had set off to meet the mysterious Mr. Z. He was soaking in a hot tub when she arrived.
"I hate watching you soak with a smile!" was the very first thing out of her mouth. Her saliva literally sizzled like bacon in a hot frying pan.
Mr. Z. quickly faked a painful grimace.
"That's much better," barked Insecta.
"licorice?" offered Mr. Z. Insecta nodded her head in approval.
In walked the lovely showgirl turned slave/servant, Cheetah Kittens. Cheetah was the toast of the strip being hired by nearly every casino to dance at some point. But Mr. Z kidnapped her and forced her to work as his servant because she wouldn't work for him. She acted mostly as a servant who brought things for guests. Mr. Z. made her wear her extravagantly feathered showgirl constume and the head piece the plumes of which stretched five feet high. But to top off the humiliation, he exchanged her spiked heels for Converse canvas high tops.
Cheetah held a silver plate piled high with licorice. Even under this strain, she still managed a smile, causing insecta to fire out the suction hose from her greyish-green tongue. Mr. Z cackled as Insecta sucked the last little bit of positivity from poor Cheetah. Cheetah broke into tears realizing no amount of high kicking was going to remove the veil of gloom insecta had infected her with. Insecta took the plate of licorice and threw it on the floor.
"Look what your incompetent slave did!" Insecta screeched.
Cheetah felt humiliated but she also felt that tiny twinge of anger that says, "I'm going to get my revenge on you, punk."
Ms. Kittens left the room apologizing and rushing off to get another plate of licorice.
"So far, our operation to make the other casinos no fun is failing your moron!" shouted Mr. Z, "your most recent hit on that lawyer might as well have been broadcast live on television for all the publicity your brought on yourself."
"Isn't that the way you wanted it!" barked Insecta, spewing bits of licorice from her mouth all over his new carpet.
Mr. Z shifted in his hot tub. "I didn't want you to be so sloppy the cops would be hot on your trail," mr. Z said softly, pausing, and then adding, "this detective mangy is the real trouble. she's good. I saw her walk away with $700 from the hold 'em table last week. The point is if they can trace you to me, my whole plan fails. You were supposed to leave no clues of yourself and not I see police sketches on t.v. of a giant mosquito with blonde hair?!!!"
"But she lost Miss California because she forgot to put on the top part of her bikini, " retorted Insecta, "how smart can she really be? I took her red pumps with no challenge at all. And who cares if I become widely known and feared. That's the trouble with you Mr. Z - you hide away in fear and pay everyone to do your dirty work. Me? I enjoy watching little children fall of see saws. And if everyone hears me cackle, all the better."
"Be all that as it may, you should be aware that Detective Mangy is dangerous and probably has more cheer in her than you can suck out in one feeding frenzy."
"Ha!" snapped Insecta, "She has a pistol and I have giant insect powers."
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Cheetah Kittens silently wept while trying to figure out a way to get out of her prison. She noticed a tiny window in the upper corner of the kitchen. Much too small to help her escape but she also noticed Mr. Z's pet penguin, Count Beaumont.
As she quickly opened Count Beaumont's cage door, she whispered in his ear, "I know you don't really fly but you can get through that window if I give you a hand. You'll have to get to the police and warn them about Mr. Z and Insecta."
The bewildered penguin was both uncertain of how he'd land safely once pushed through the window and strangely turned on by Cheetah Kittens' hot breath as she whispered in his ear.
Meanwhile, Detective Mangy continued to think about all that crackerjack lawyer Lion Bree had told her. She thought about how he seemed to chew his fingernails off and how she'd send him a bottle of that stuff that makes your fingernails taste like crap so he'd stop doing it.
"After all, every sees our fingers all the time, "she exclaimed to a confused trash collector, "and look at my superior french manicure."
As she made her way down an alley way to search for clues, she felt something go plop - like a pillow or cushion - on top of her head. By the time she regained her composure, Det. Mangy saw an adorable penquin sitting across from her -- a bit dirty from falling in the alley way and a bit shaken up from the fall.
The penquin rather matter of factly announced, "my name is Count Beaumont."
To be continued.
Insecta
Part 3 "Life on the dark side"
Insecta hadn't always been such a killjoy. When she was six she planned a special surprise birthday party for her mother. But when the cake candles inadvertently set some of the paper decorations on fire leading to her family home being burnt down, Insecta realized the joy of making others upset. Later, after several nuclear accidents where she, by coincidence, was vacationing she developed the power to suck the fun out of people like a mosquito draws blood.
No one knew it, but a mysterious Mr. Z., who owned and operated several casinos in Las Vegas had recently contacted Insecta. Mr. Z's theory was if she attacked people who left rival casinos (as Lion Bree had been when attacked outside the Flamingo) his business would flourish while rival casinos would start to loose business. In exchange, Mr. Z gave Insecta her most covetted and valued thing -- next to gloom, of course -- licorice.
After her taunting of Detective Mangy with red pumps and while Mangy was visiting Mr. Bree to interview him for clues, Insecta had set off to meet the mysterious Mr. Z. He was soaking in a hot tub when she arrived.
"I hate watching you soak with a smile!" was the very first thing out of her mouth. Her saliva literally sizzled like bacon in a hot frying pan.
Mr. Z. quickly faked a painful grimace.
"That's much better," barked Insecta.
"licorice?" offered Mr. Z. Insecta nodded her head in approval.
In walked the lovely showgirl turned slave/servant, Cheetah Kittens. Cheetah was the toast of the strip being hired by nearly every casino to dance at some point. But Mr. Z kidnapped her and forced her to work as his servant because she wouldn't work for him. She acted mostly as a servant who brought things for guests. Mr. Z. made her wear her extravagantly feathered showgirl constume and the head piece the plumes of which stretched five feet high. But to top off the humiliation, he exchanged her spiked heels for Converse canvas high tops.
Cheetah held a silver plate piled high with licorice. Even under this strain, she still managed a smile, causing insecta to fire out the suction hose from her greyish-green tongue. Mr. Z cackled as Insecta sucked the last little bit of positivity from poor Cheetah. Cheetah broke into tears realizing no amount of high kicking was going to remove the veil of gloom insecta had infected her with. Insecta took the plate of licorice and threw it on the floor.
"Look what your incompetent slave did!" Insecta screeched.
Cheetah felt humiliated but she also felt that tiny twinge of anger that says, "I'm going to get my revenge on you, punk."
Ms. Kittens left the room apologizing and rushing off to get another plate of licorice.
"So far, our operation to make the other casinos no fun is failing your moron!" shouted Mr. Z, "your most recent hit on that lawyer might as well have been broadcast live on television for all the publicity your brought on yourself."
"Isn't that the way you wanted it!" barked Insecta, spewing bits of licorice from her mouth all over his new carpet.
Mr. Z shifted in his hot tub. "I didn't want you to be so sloppy the cops would be hot on your trail," mr. Z said softly, pausing, and then adding, "this detective mangy is the real trouble. she's good. I saw her walk away with $700 from the hold 'em table last week. The point is if they can trace you to me, my whole plan fails. You were supposed to leave no clues of yourself and not I see police sketches on t.v. of a giant mosquito with blonde hair?!!!"
"But she lost Miss California because she forgot to put on the top part of her bikini, " retorted Insecta, "how smart can she really be? I took her red pumps with no challenge at all. And who cares if I become widely known and feared. That's the trouble with you Mr. Z - you hide away in fear and pay everyone to do your dirty work. Me? I enjoy watching little children fall of see saws. And if everyone hears me cackle, all the better."
"Be all that as it may, you should be aware that Detective Mangy is dangerous and probably has more cheer in her than you can suck out in one feeding frenzy."
"Ha!" snapped Insecta, "She has a pistol and I have giant insect powers."
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Cheetah Kittens silently wept while trying to figure out a way to get out of her prison. She noticed a tiny window in the upper corner of the kitchen. Much too small to help her escape but she also noticed Mr. Z's pet penguin, Count Beaumont.
As she quickly opened Count Beaumont's cage door, she whispered in his ear, "I know you don't really fly but you can get through that window if I give you a hand. You'll have to get to the police and warn them about Mr. Z and Insecta."
The bewildered penguin was both uncertain of how he'd land safely once pushed through the window and strangely turned on by Cheetah Kittens' hot breath as she whispered in his ear.
Meanwhile, Detective Mangy continued to think about all that crackerjack lawyer Lion Bree had told her. She thought about how he seemed to chew his fingernails off and how she'd send him a bottle of that stuff that makes your fingernails taste like crap so he'd stop doing it.
"After all, every sees our fingers all the time, "she exclaimed to a confused trash collector, "and look at my superior french manicure."
As she made her way down an alley way to search for clues, she felt something go plop - like a pillow or cushion - on top of her head. By the time she regained her composure, Det. Mangy saw an adorable penquin sitting across from her -- a bit dirty from falling in the alley way and a bit shaken up from the fall.
The penquin rather matter of factly announced, "my name is Count Beaumont."
To be continued.
Monday, May 02, 2005
victor lives and the crazy lady at starbucks
Today marks my first official day as a car commuter. I have to say, leaving my parking lot at 7:36 and arriving to work at 8 am, is awesome.. and it being slightly faster to go home.... all while sitting on my bum with my heated seats flaming... yea, i understand now why people do this.
Of course, this is forcing me to figure out how to get my exercise (and we all know how fun exercise is)... so, i'm currently procrastinating and blogging until i figure out a sensible game plan for that (wouldn't want to rush it)... and since i started writing, i'm now hungry, so it looks like i need to make dinner instead. (blogging is super hard work).
Anywho, so, I'm told I'm doing a good job of keeping you all amused and that i need to keep going..
Before I start digging into my archive of amusement, I figured I'd give you some highlights of this weekend (aka what i remember)..
I had the distinct pleasure of spending too little time with some very dear friends this weekend (see the same very dear friends that helped me and b survive the aftermath of the strangest wedding ever, jan. '05)
we all decided it would be a nice day to go to the zoo... we didn't realize we'd get to see some of the zoo at the starbucks across the street... innocently as usual, i go to order a (say it with me everyone, venti breve LATTE)... iced coffee (fooled ya, it was too humid out for hot coffee)... when i glance over to my right to see a crazy lady with full mustache waiting for her coffee... ignoring the mustache for a second, i realize she's also in hospital garments under her coat and begin to get a little creeped out as she keeps asking the barista (starbucks lingo for coffee making man behind counter) if he's going to put whipped cream on her drink... now, i have to say, that this woman could've resembled that guy in poltergeist 3 (i think it was the crazy indian one that came to the door)... doing my best not to look around or show any signs of concerns or a simple "does anyone see this, or is it just me?" i keep my eyes on the ground and watch as she finally gets her extra whipped cream drink from the barista... impressively, the crazy lady also picks up a copy of the post (washington post, for you northern folk) and sits in a corner chair. now, i think b may have described this best when he said she caused a form of "cosmic interruption" because i think the universe and myself were so rattled by the poltergeist lady, that we didn't give a second thought to the fact that the barista dropped a large iced coffee down the counter hitting the majority of our shoes and legs. and i know i just sat frozen for a good 5 minutes watching as the ice and coffee continued to pour along the edge... after finally getting our order straight, once again i was force fed carbs in the form of a chocolate marshmallow bar (and i must say to starbucks, well done you sneaky devils, that is pure heaven in a bar), we got to continue on our journey... and i don't use journey lightly.. for those of you not from around here, the zoo is quite a place to go for a hike.. not necessarily the best for someone who is slightly hung over, but that's just a guess of course... i wouldn't actually know... but somewhere between the hilly terrain and the humidity, one who was slightly or in some cases very hungover would begin to feel like they're working out or dying from shortness of breath...
that about wraps up the extreme bizarreness from my weekend.. everything else was your standard gambling, drinking and debauchery... sans injuries other than to my liver...
hope all is well with y'all...
smooch,
G
Of course, this is forcing me to figure out how to get my exercise (and we all know how fun exercise is)... so, i'm currently procrastinating and blogging until i figure out a sensible game plan for that (wouldn't want to rush it)... and since i started writing, i'm now hungry, so it looks like i need to make dinner instead. (blogging is super hard work).
Anywho, so, I'm told I'm doing a good job of keeping you all amused and that i need to keep going..
Before I start digging into my archive of amusement, I figured I'd give you some highlights of this weekend (aka what i remember)..
I had the distinct pleasure of spending too little time with some very dear friends this weekend (see the same very dear friends that helped me and b survive the aftermath of the strangest wedding ever, jan. '05)
we all decided it would be a nice day to go to the zoo... we didn't realize we'd get to see some of the zoo at the starbucks across the street... innocently as usual, i go to order a (say it with me everyone, venti breve LATTE)... iced coffee (fooled ya, it was too humid out for hot coffee)... when i glance over to my right to see a crazy lady with full mustache waiting for her coffee... ignoring the mustache for a second, i realize she's also in hospital garments under her coat and begin to get a little creeped out as she keeps asking the barista (starbucks lingo for coffee making man behind counter) if he's going to put whipped cream on her drink... now, i have to say, that this woman could've resembled that guy in poltergeist 3 (i think it was the crazy indian one that came to the door)... doing my best not to look around or show any signs of concerns or a simple "does anyone see this, or is it just me?" i keep my eyes on the ground and watch as she finally gets her extra whipped cream drink from the barista... impressively, the crazy lady also picks up a copy of the post (washington post, for you northern folk) and sits in a corner chair. now, i think b may have described this best when he said she caused a form of "cosmic interruption" because i think the universe and myself were so rattled by the poltergeist lady, that we didn't give a second thought to the fact that the barista dropped a large iced coffee down the counter hitting the majority of our shoes and legs. and i know i just sat frozen for a good 5 minutes watching as the ice and coffee continued to pour along the edge... after finally getting our order straight, once again i was force fed carbs in the form of a chocolate marshmallow bar (and i must say to starbucks, well done you sneaky devils, that is pure heaven in a bar), we got to continue on our journey... and i don't use journey lightly.. for those of you not from around here, the zoo is quite a place to go for a hike.. not necessarily the best for someone who is slightly hung over, but that's just a guess of course... i wouldn't actually know... but somewhere between the hilly terrain and the humidity, one who was slightly or in some cases very hungover would begin to feel like they're working out or dying from shortness of breath...
that about wraps up the extreme bizarreness from my weekend.. everything else was your standard gambling, drinking and debauchery... sans injuries other than to my liver...
hope all is well with y'all...
smooch,
G
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