Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

Well. We had an interesting dinner tonight. At around 8:30 we realized that 1) the two year old was still napping and 2) we had dinner to cook. I ran up to get the kid while hub got dinner preparations together. The menu was grilled marinated cornish game hens, garlic mashed potatoes, and wilted spinach salad. He had to go get the fire going, which normally takes a little while. He kept squirting lighter fluid and the fire kept *whoomf*ing up into the trees (our lot has no place that’s not completely canopied by trees, which is ok because we’re vampires as you can tell by the time of most of my posts).

Anyway, he tossed the birds on the grill and ran inside to wash out the pan. When he came out they were on Fire, with a capital F. Somehow he managed to get the fire out but now we had blackened grilled marinated cornish game hen.

By the time the birds were done, it was nigh unto 10:00 and the two year old was desperate for food, so much so that she kept stealing cheese and ham from the 10 month old and claiming she was “sharing”. Hub ran out to get the birds. He put them all into the pan, started to pick up the pan, and emitted a scream of pain. He thought he burned himself on one of the chickens. He hollered for a pot holder but I wasn’t fast enough or something and he ran inside to run his hand under cold water. At which point I look up and see that he’s brought a hitchhiker with him. A big huge gigantic angry red wasp, perched on the kitchen cabinets and looking big and huge and angry. I whip the baby out of the high chair and hold out my hand for the two year old saying “come here come here come here now now now it’s really important, baby” and she says…

come on… all together now…

“NO!”

So I grab her by the hand and hustle her into the other room and slam the door between us and the angry huge red wasp and paddle her, then worry because there are no curtains on the windows in that room and I wonder if the neighbors think I’m a child beater now.

In the meantime, hub dissects (well, more like cleaves in two) the big angry red wasp with our best most expensive butcher knife.

As we sat down to dinner (after putting the meat tenderizer and baking soda on hub’s hand; you’d think we were having it for dinner) I idly mentioned that maybe the wasp stung the chicken also, and one of us would take a bite and get a mouthful of venom.

I was joking of course, but hub didn’t think it was funny. He has no sense of humor sometimes.

Regarding the “Aw man, I was looking for some videos for me and my dog” quote a couple of entries ago… that really happened.

I was at Pleasureland with a (female) friend. We were just there to gawk and giggle. Some guy walked in with a dog on a leash. The clerk told him he’d have to take his dog outside, and that’s when the famous line was spoken.

I laughed so hard that I very nearly wet myself. One of those times that you can’t even take a breath and start sounding like a strangled chicken and tears and snot are running down your face.

Now the hell of it is that I can’t remember who I was with. I thought it was M.S., but she didn’t comment on the quote, so now I’m thinking it wasn’t her. Was it A.W.? J.B.? I just don’t know.

The 10 month old has found some sort of unlimited source of black grease somewhere near my desk. Perhaps it’s in the slides for the keyboard drawer. She goops up her fingers and then slimes them all over my desk, mouse, clothes, chair, legs, carpet, and dog. The two year old has taken to telling everyone, “I love you, Smelly!”

My life is an episode of The Simpsons.

Google Groups has graphics now.
Just plant me in my Kiss Kasket, baby.
Hillary gets in a shouting match with Russ. Doesn’t sound like a big deal until you learn their last names are Clinton and Feingold.
Speaking of which, could Phil Donahue be any more of an asshole?
As if women needed another reason to breastfeed – mothers who nurse have less breast cancer risk.

Turn your website into music
Top 100 albums that you should pitch immediately, if you have them. Funny, I own or have owned 23 of them.
True porn clerk stories, as in “Aw man, I was looking for some videos for me and my dog!”

1. Where were you born? San Antonio, Texas.
2. If you still live there, where would you rather move to? If you don’t live there, do you want to move back? Why or why not? I live just up the road in Austin, about an hour’s drive. I used to miss S.A. horribly but over the years have come to think of Austin as my home town. I had always planned on moving back to San Antonio but after I got married, we decided to stay here. I guess I wouldn’t really mind moving back, but it’s not something I really want to do anymore.
3. Where in the world do you feel the safest? In bed under the covers with my lamp on, reading a good book, while there’s a raging thunderstorm outside.
4. Do you feel you are well-traveled? Compared to some, yes. I’ve been to England twice and got married in Costa Rica. I’ve also been to Arizona (visiting family), Arkansas (driving through), California (Disneyland!), Colorado (family), Connecticut (friends), Delaware (driving through), Hawaii (vacation), Illinois (vacation), Kansas (family), Kentucky (driving), Louisiana (vacation), Maryland (driving/visiting), Massachusetts (friends), Michigan (friends), Mississippi (driving), Nevada (vacation), New Jersey (friends), New Mexico (driving), New York (friends), North Carolina (Dead show), Ohio (driving), Pennsylvania (Dead show), Rhode Island (driving), Tennessee (driving), Texas (living), Virginia (college), West Virginia (driving), and Wyoming (family).
5. Where is the most interesting place you’ve been? I’d have to say Ka Lae – South Point – on the big island of Hawaii. It’s the southernmost point in the United States, on the same level as Mexico City. It’s terribly windy there and the trees are bent sideways. The windmills make an eerie humming noise. There’s a green sand beach that’s spectacular (and deadly, with the rip tide) down a really miserable “road”.

Some of the wildlife found at the ranch:

€ A buck I shot in December 2000. I decided to retire after this guy, since it doesn’t get any better than this.
€ A little guy who crawled out of the sink to say hi while hub washed his face.
€ A hot mama who was holed up by the woodpile. That snack she has is a grasshopper, to give you an idea of scale.

We didn’t see any rattlesnakes this time, but next time I do I’ll post a pic of it.

My friend Gus is getting older. There’s no denying it now. He’s really slowing down. He’s horribly underweight. He has serious medical problems and limps around from arthritis. And I think that the worst for him is the fact that he’s losing bladder control.

I’ve known Gus since 1990. He’s been my closest companion and confidante since we met. We’ve been living together for years. It’s hard to see your best friend grow so old.

I should explain that Gus is my cat, a bluepoint Siamese boy who used to play fetch with cellophane, who used to have his own teddybear which he would throw in the air and catch and tackle, who used to sniff my panties and get his head stuck in the leghole and run around the house with panties on his head. When he was a kitten I’d dye him pink with food coloring. He’s the house inspector and has to put his seal of approval on all that enters, furniture or person or animal, vegetable, or mineral. Once he was mad at me for spending too much time out of town and he peed on my friend’s head while she slept. Sometimes he’d use the toilet.

He’s like my son, although he’s old enough to be my grandfather. What’s to come is going to be very, very hard.

Armstrong climbs to overall lead with Stage 11 win – CBS SportsLine. Go Lance, go!