B: What’s in that thing?
Me: What?
B: What’s in that thing?
Me: What’s in that thing?
B: Yeah.
Me: Stuff.
Tag: humor
Alarming
On the train, there is a sign. “If anything doesn’t look right, let us know.” Next to the sign, there is a middle-aged man. He is wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt with leaping dolphins airbrushed on the front.
Pugs: a List
- Churchill
- Prunella
- Smooie
- Aubergine
- Rosebud
- Remington
One of These Kids is Doing Her Own Thing
If you’re wearing a faux fur coat, heeled boots, a skirt, and bright red lipstick, don’t make a quick stop at Home Depot. They look at you funny when you ask where the wrenches are.
Belief System
Five things painted on the van parked near the panhandle:
- NO CLASS, NO MIND, NAZI NETWORK
- 3 Ps: PROHIBITION, PIGS, PUSSY
- LARRY FLYNT FOR GOVERNOR
- EAT PUSSY, NOT COW
- YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN RETARDED
Essentials
San Francisco is at Burning Man. It’s like someone took the city, turned it upside down, and shook out all the bottled water, faux fur, and Cool Ranch Doritos.
Plan B
Our friend Josh is in for the weekend. We’re having a quiet, excessively hung over breakfast at the Pork Store.
Me: Where are we going today?
Bryan: Well, Lori wants to meet up, and she’s babysitting her godchildren.
Me: Right. We were talking about going to the Exploratorium.
Josh: What’s that?
Me: It’s a kids’ science museum with all these exhibits you can touch. The kids can kind of run around.
Josh: We’re going to the museum of screaming?
Me: That’s one way to put it.
Bryan: They also have drums!
Me: And flashing lights!
Splashin’ and-a Splashin’
We’re in D.C. staying at the gorgeous, velvety, sunlit Hotel Monaco. The rooms come equipped with animal-print bathrobes, they’ll loan you a goldfish for the duration of your stay, and our suite has a cavernous bathtub. It’s the kind of bathtub that makes you hesitate if you don’t know how to swim, the kind of bathtub that makes you think, “We could fit, like, eleven people in here!”
And so, last night, we hosted a Champagne Bubble Bath Roaming Robe Party. Everyone donned their swimsuits and robes in their rooms, then came back to the suite for a bubble bath.
You never know how ludicrously long your friends’ toenails are until you’re in a bath with them. People, cut your toenails.
Sentimenta
Last night, we went to Six Apart’s very first official party, where we ran into some friends we hadn’t seen in awhile. One of them said, “We should hang out more. You guys don’t annoy us.”
Look, Ma. No Hands!
I returned home for Heather and Derek’s (very touching) wedding, and Bryan and I learned that the Armstrongs were in town for the festivities. Though we’d never met them, we called often enough to guarantee that they would either meet us for breakfast or issue a restraining order. Jon, Heather, and lovely little Leta arrived at the Pork Store that morning, where Jon asked about my new line of work.
How do you like working at the convention?
It’s really fun and interesting, but the pace is terrifying.
Really?
Yeah, I’m used to being a freelancer, you know? I get up at ten, have a cup of tea, write a little, go to lunch with a girlfriend, write a little more. Boston is a different world.
How so?
Well, compared to my old life, it’s like stepping out of a warm bath and being thrown into a vat of ferrets.
Then I ate the baby’s hands. Armstrongs, I am sorry about your handless baby.
Mighty Girl 