I have a lake for a house, or a house made of lake.
I have a dead Gremlin, car... not grose little monster.
My cat has fleas.
I have fleas.
I'm broke.
I put down money on a used Volvo that my friend owns... she wrecked/totaled it Sunday.
I have bronchitis, a urinary track infection, and a yeast infection all at the same time, feelin' great.
I have recently been very dissappointed by people.
I have to move and I can't find a place, unless you include that mold, bug, and stench infested home in the hills.
I'm happy for Vic and her new job.
I'm grateful I'm another year older and I got to spend my birthday with a bunch of friends.
I'm sure glad I don't have to wear diapers except for at housewarming partys.
I'm going to blog for real again someday I swear.
I have to go rid my life of fleas now.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Monday, March 14, 2005
Up for a party my deer?
I should have know it was a bad idea when I was leaving the loft at 8 in the morning, carrying a plastic deer light (you know one of those decorative one's you find in peoples lawns... or my living room) to head to the 'Yee Rustic Inn' for bloody Marys and hot wings.
I had been up since the prior morning and had spent thirteen hours working at the bar, no food, little booze, and not a lick of sense left in me old noggin'. As soon as I walked in my front door, already daylight, my friend phoned me and told me to come down to the loft party she's at downtown(near skid row to be exact). Without hesitation, due to lack of brain cells, I hopped in a green cab and headed to where the action was. I pulled up to the loft, Ali and a tall dark stranger awaited out front. They led me inside to where, I was told, the party was. They led me up a dark staircase where the sounds of sniffing and murmed talk were overshawdowed by the loud music. As I rounded the corner into the bright daylit room I saw 'THE PARTY'. On the couch straight ahead was a 40 something year old balding man with a paisley shirt, beret laying half on his shoulder and half on his head(with scraggly grey hair sticking out all over the lower half of his head), khakis tight rolled at the cuff, loafers no socks. He was passed out and mouth breathing all crackly and loud. To the right was the rest of 'THE PARTY' standing at the little bar. There were four more 40 something year old artsy types speaking to each other in their best dulled uninterested voices, wanting to sound curious and intellegent, eyes leering around the room with their heads down peeking out from under their brows as if at any moment their eyes may stumble upon their next brilliant art masterpiece. They were all speaking with their hands, slowly up and down in this wave of an arm farm. The sight of 'THE PARTY' made me laugh out loud, and in turn made the goers fall silent. I tried to play it off like I to was full of curious wisdom and art... it worked, which made me laugh out loud again only this time they joined me in laughing, not quite sure if they missed something but they didn't want to appear stupid.
"Give Winky a line" my friend Ali shouted out to the goers.
"Ah no, thanks.. really I don't need any." I said waving my hands in front of myself.
"Come on, just a line... Ya' just like two lines.... Just a bump" the goers all droned at me while grabbing at their little bags of powder.
They pushed and shoved and put a mirror in my hands. I picked up the straw that lay next to the razor blade and snowy mountain, pointed the straw by the long skinny curvy line and inhaled through my nose. The goers and Ali were all so busy talking, with their dry little slugs clicking away in their mouths desperately seeking liquid, that they didn't even notice that the line I did was an imaginary line. I just put the straw down next to the line and snorted the whole length of the line inhaling nothing. I lay the mirror in front of the guy who owned the place and said, "Your turn". Which he replied, "Oh thank you.", and snorted away. I immediately went and found a comfortable chair and had a seat.
Next thing I knew I was jolted awake on the couch by the fact that I started to pee a little. I came to my senses, shit I'm still at 'THE PARTY', and crap I about wet my pants... but I didn't(fully). So I got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face a little, finished peeing, and pulled myself together. Man I was recharged after my little nap, heck it's my turn to start drinking. I had been pouring drinks all day and night for others and damn if it wasn't my turn.
I came back out to 'THE PARTY' and, "Hey Winky is the best bartender ever, I bet she could make something out of what you've got left", Ali said through her grinding jaw and sniffles. I wanted to make myself a drink but they all really looked like they could use something very wet and very stiff. So I walked behind the bar and surveyed all it had to offer... Vermouth, Tequilla, Sugar Water, Lemon Juice, Cranberry juice, and Limes, there was only one option with this one... Cranberry Margaritas. I mixed in my usual furry and presto, everyone now had a chance to come down via a Wink-tastic cocktail. I turned to the owner and commented on how I liked his plastic deer light and, "can I have it" figuring it never hurts to ask. He said no, then I told him of my extensive collection in my living room and how great it would be for the deer to come home to his people. He couldn't refuse, I unplugged the old girl and rounded up Ali, went and woke Braun, and told them all it was time for mommy's bloody mary breakfast.
We parked out front of Yee Rustic Inn, finally my turn had arrived. We sat at the first table by the door ordered three bloody mary's. Ali started yelling to the bartender, I quickly muffled her which caused her to bark, "I hate your guts.", I laughed and sipped my Mary. Then my friend George walked by trying to leave, but I wouldn't stand for it. So we all moved to a bigger booth in the back, he call Noah his fiance upon my demand and told her to come out as well. Once there were three, now there were five and 40 hotwings and two pitchers of beer. I went out to smoke and when I came in a miniature doggy came running up to me, so I picked up the lil' booger and sat at my table.
"Did you see who was here?" Ali said pointing to the booth across from us.
Sure enough there was the guy I had gunned for about a month and a half ago and had recently given up due to his lack of interest in calling me, but still just last week got drunk and had to step out to the back seat of his car with him. Never again I say I'm more than just boobs, but I guess I keep forgetting. All this was too much for me at that moment so I didn't bother saying hello for atleast 15 minutes even though he was all of two feet away from me. Next thing I know Ali is missing and Noah and I can't find her anywhere. We run out front to see her in her truck trying to get her key in the ignition all the whilst prank calling people on her cell phone.
"Give us your key now", we said.
"I hate your guts", she replied.
We took her keys anyway, as the back seat boy walked up.
"Bye Ali give me a call later," back seat said.
"I hate you", she said.
Then he toussled my hair with his hand like I was some freakin' dog. "Bye Wink.".
We rounded up Braun and George and the three of us who were still making sense decided it was best if we got Ali home, and all of us to bed. It was three in the afternoon now, and really did we need to continue? No.
George and Noah started to drive away while Ali was standing out front of the Rustic, arms out like Jesus on the cross, singing,"Yee Rustic did me in, it did it again, oh Yee Rustic.". We all laughed, it was ridiculous.
Finally I was home, I gathered up my little deer light and walked straight into my house and fell asleep with my newest posession in my arms. I awoke at nine p.m. cuddling old deery, and hungry. First I checked my messages, and found that Ali and Braun didn't go home instead they went to the bar I run and harrased my bartender. I only knew this from the 12 prank calls she delivered to my inbox. I cleaned up and went to see my bud Jodes at work. I knew she'd be done bartending soon and I could easily persuade her to go eat with me. Just as I suspected she was all game, and she was all drunk... which I didn't realize at first but when we arrived at the restaurant she ordered us two pina colada's and immediately spilled them and the whole table in my lap. Thankfully the mofia that runs that place likes me, so they just laughed and, "send our sweetie some more drinks... on me", the boss said in his 'I own the whole world voice'.
The night went on... but I just can't anymore.
Too much typey type for old Wink.
....to be continued
in 2008.
I had been up since the prior morning and had spent thirteen hours working at the bar, no food, little booze, and not a lick of sense left in me old noggin'. As soon as I walked in my front door, already daylight, my friend phoned me and told me to come down to the loft party she's at downtown(near skid row to be exact). Without hesitation, due to lack of brain cells, I hopped in a green cab and headed to where the action was. I pulled up to the loft, Ali and a tall dark stranger awaited out front. They led me inside to where, I was told, the party was. They led me up a dark staircase where the sounds of sniffing and murmed talk were overshawdowed by the loud music. As I rounded the corner into the bright daylit room I saw 'THE PARTY'. On the couch straight ahead was a 40 something year old balding man with a paisley shirt, beret laying half on his shoulder and half on his head(with scraggly grey hair sticking out all over the lower half of his head), khakis tight rolled at the cuff, loafers no socks. He was passed out and mouth breathing all crackly and loud. To the right was the rest of 'THE PARTY' standing at the little bar. There were four more 40 something year old artsy types speaking to each other in their best dulled uninterested voices, wanting to sound curious and intellegent, eyes leering around the room with their heads down peeking out from under their brows as if at any moment their eyes may stumble upon their next brilliant art masterpiece. They were all speaking with their hands, slowly up and down in this wave of an arm farm. The sight of 'THE PARTY' made me laugh out loud, and in turn made the goers fall silent. I tried to play it off like I to was full of curious wisdom and art... it worked, which made me laugh out loud again only this time they joined me in laughing, not quite sure if they missed something but they didn't want to appear stupid.
"Give Winky a line" my friend Ali shouted out to the goers.
"Ah no, thanks.. really I don't need any." I said waving my hands in front of myself.
"Come on, just a line... Ya' just like two lines.... Just a bump" the goers all droned at me while grabbing at their little bags of powder.
They pushed and shoved and put a mirror in my hands. I picked up the straw that lay next to the razor blade and snowy mountain, pointed the straw by the long skinny curvy line and inhaled through my nose. The goers and Ali were all so busy talking, with their dry little slugs clicking away in their mouths desperately seeking liquid, that they didn't even notice that the line I did was an imaginary line. I just put the straw down next to the line and snorted the whole length of the line inhaling nothing. I lay the mirror in front of the guy who owned the place and said, "Your turn". Which he replied, "Oh thank you.", and snorted away. I immediately went and found a comfortable chair and had a seat.
Next thing I knew I was jolted awake on the couch by the fact that I started to pee a little. I came to my senses, shit I'm still at 'THE PARTY', and crap I about wet my pants... but I didn't(fully). So I got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face a little, finished peeing, and pulled myself together. Man I was recharged after my little nap, heck it's my turn to start drinking. I had been pouring drinks all day and night for others and damn if it wasn't my turn.
I came back out to 'THE PARTY' and, "Hey Winky is the best bartender ever, I bet she could make something out of what you've got left", Ali said through her grinding jaw and sniffles. I wanted to make myself a drink but they all really looked like they could use something very wet and very stiff. So I walked behind the bar and surveyed all it had to offer... Vermouth, Tequilla, Sugar Water, Lemon Juice, Cranberry juice, and Limes, there was only one option with this one... Cranberry Margaritas. I mixed in my usual furry and presto, everyone now had a chance to come down via a Wink-tastic cocktail. I turned to the owner and commented on how I liked his plastic deer light and, "can I have it" figuring it never hurts to ask. He said no, then I told him of my extensive collection in my living room and how great it would be for the deer to come home to his people. He couldn't refuse, I unplugged the old girl and rounded up Ali, went and woke Braun, and told them all it was time for mommy's bloody mary breakfast.
We parked out front of Yee Rustic Inn, finally my turn had arrived. We sat at the first table by the door ordered three bloody mary's. Ali started yelling to the bartender, I quickly muffled her which caused her to bark, "I hate your guts.", I laughed and sipped my Mary. Then my friend George walked by trying to leave, but I wouldn't stand for it. So we all moved to a bigger booth in the back, he call Noah his fiance upon my demand and told her to come out as well. Once there were three, now there were five and 40 hotwings and two pitchers of beer. I went out to smoke and when I came in a miniature doggy came running up to me, so I picked up the lil' booger and sat at my table.
"Did you see who was here?" Ali said pointing to the booth across from us.
Sure enough there was the guy I had gunned for about a month and a half ago and had recently given up due to his lack of interest in calling me, but still just last week got drunk and had to step out to the back seat of his car with him. Never again I say I'm more than just boobs, but I guess I keep forgetting. All this was too much for me at that moment so I didn't bother saying hello for atleast 15 minutes even though he was all of two feet away from me. Next thing I know Ali is missing and Noah and I can't find her anywhere. We run out front to see her in her truck trying to get her key in the ignition all the whilst prank calling people on her cell phone.
"Give us your key now", we said.
"I hate your guts", she replied.
We took her keys anyway, as the back seat boy walked up.
"Bye Ali give me a call later," back seat said.
"I hate you", she said.
Then he toussled my hair with his hand like I was some freakin' dog. "Bye Wink.".
We rounded up Braun and George and the three of us who were still making sense decided it was best if we got Ali home, and all of us to bed. It was three in the afternoon now, and really did we need to continue? No.
George and Noah started to drive away while Ali was standing out front of the Rustic, arms out like Jesus on the cross, singing,"Yee Rustic did me in, it did it again, oh Yee Rustic.". We all laughed, it was ridiculous.
Finally I was home, I gathered up my little deer light and walked straight into my house and fell asleep with my newest posession in my arms. I awoke at nine p.m. cuddling old deery, and hungry. First I checked my messages, and found that Ali and Braun didn't go home instead they went to the bar I run and harrased my bartender. I only knew this from the 12 prank calls she delivered to my inbox. I cleaned up and went to see my bud Jodes at work. I knew she'd be done bartending soon and I could easily persuade her to go eat with me. Just as I suspected she was all game, and she was all drunk... which I didn't realize at first but when we arrived at the restaurant she ordered us two pina colada's and immediately spilled them and the whole table in my lap. Thankfully the mofia that runs that place likes me, so they just laughed and, "send our sweetie some more drinks... on me", the boss said in his 'I own the whole world voice'.
The night went on... but I just can't anymore.
Too much typey type for old Wink.
....to be continued
in 2008.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Captain Flapjack's Regal Beaver
I have for weeks, maybe even months, now been making grandious promises to two(well now three) guys I have employed as my saturday regulars at the bar.
Like clockwork I set up the bar and at four o'clock sharp I open the front door. First in is Chrissy, tall skinny rocker whose usually hung over and twitching with hilarious stories from the prior night. Then enters my first and most loved regulars, the one's I will someday cross over from drink boss to friends with. These are the two guys whose friend was accosted by The Old Crusty Prostitute. Both of them being so wickedly charming and funny I constantly find myself trying to be more funny than I have ever been, pulling out all of the old and new tricks from my bag. I must make them laugh, it's the only way I could ever repay them for all the long hard nights they have worked drinking PBR's and shots of Maker's Mark at the bar.
Side Note: Eric, the shorter of the two regulars who sounds like Wolfman Jack and has these crazy piercing blue eyes, told me a story last week about how when he was a toddler he and a toddler buddy, all naked because they snuck out of their bath, busted out two beers from the parents beer coolers and started tossing them back. When the mother saw this instead of taking the beer away she took a picture and laughed while the boys got all jacked up. When he was teething she would hand him a cold beer can to suck on. I dream of being that kind of mom.
Now about all these promises.....
It all started when someone came in and played every disco song they could find on the juke box. Somehow it came to be that I was going to start wearing crazy disco onesy's that gave me camel toe(or moose knuckle as they say in Canada), have big puff pony tails sticking out to the side of my head, on rollar skates, with glitter all over my face, and a big furry jacket, disco dancing behind the bar. The whole town would be a buzz about this crazy Disco Winky. I would rollar skate to and from work with my disco tunes blaring from the radio the guy who walked behind me carried. I would twirl and spin and back skate while throwing my arms up and out and all disco-eee around me. People would drive by screaming from their cars, "Hey it's Disco Wink".
Then it came to be that I shouldn't always be Disco Winky, that it should change week to week. I then became the pirate wench who would serve the swill and cuss and smoke a lot. I would wear old whenchy dresses with my boobs all hoisted up under my chin. Aye! When I was Madam Whench I would have a parrot who would fly and land on shoulders of innocent young boys at the bar and squawk, "Raarr, he farted... it was him, raaar". I would then in all my whenchyness toss the poor young rascal out onto the curb.
Then I decided I wanted to open my own bar called Captain Flapjack's Regal Beaver, and every night of the week I would come in as one of my alter-egos that they had donned a name for. I would either be Madam Whench, Disco Wink, Skank, Bernice... and what not. I would have my fart blaming parrot, a chimp that smoked and served drinks with his furry little fingers all up in their cocktails dropping the glasses down on the bar in front of his chosen customer. There would be a moving walkway behind the bar so when you went to serve someone at the other end customers would just see you face forward, still as can be, moving down to the other end(this would be a highlighted feature for Disco Wink, strike a disco pose and float to the other peeps). I would have a kareoke machine hooked to the t.v. behind the bar but I wouldn't let anyone but myself use it. I would just stand, while the chimp slaved over drinks, and croon horribly into the mic. The place would be packed, everyone would want to go to Captain Flapjack's Regal Beaver. The name of the bar is getting worked on because as Eric so kindly put it, "A name like that, Skank, it's gonna' quickly became the hottest dyke bar in town... which I'll still come.". So maybe I'll think about it.
I fear if I don't show up as someone other than myself this week I will lose my Good Time Charlie's. I fear if I do show up as someone other than myself I will lose my job. "Winky we're going to have to let you go and these gentlemen in the pretty white truck with the white jacket are going to take you to a lovely little place where you can get some rest.".
Ah woe is me.
Like clockwork I set up the bar and at four o'clock sharp I open the front door. First in is Chrissy, tall skinny rocker whose usually hung over and twitching with hilarious stories from the prior night. Then enters my first and most loved regulars, the one's I will someday cross over from drink boss to friends with. These are the two guys whose friend was accosted by The Old Crusty Prostitute. Both of them being so wickedly charming and funny I constantly find myself trying to be more funny than I have ever been, pulling out all of the old and new tricks from my bag. I must make them laugh, it's the only way I could ever repay them for all the long hard nights they have worked drinking PBR's and shots of Maker's Mark at the bar.
Side Note: Eric, the shorter of the two regulars who sounds like Wolfman Jack and has these crazy piercing blue eyes, told me a story last week about how when he was a toddler he and a toddler buddy, all naked because they snuck out of their bath, busted out two beers from the parents beer coolers and started tossing them back. When the mother saw this instead of taking the beer away she took a picture and laughed while the boys got all jacked up. When he was teething she would hand him a cold beer can to suck on. I dream of being that kind of mom.
Now about all these promises.....
It all started when someone came in and played every disco song they could find on the juke box. Somehow it came to be that I was going to start wearing crazy disco onesy's that gave me camel toe(or moose knuckle as they say in Canada), have big puff pony tails sticking out to the side of my head, on rollar skates, with glitter all over my face, and a big furry jacket, disco dancing behind the bar. The whole town would be a buzz about this crazy Disco Winky. I would rollar skate to and from work with my disco tunes blaring from the radio the guy who walked behind me carried. I would twirl and spin and back skate while throwing my arms up and out and all disco-eee around me. People would drive by screaming from their cars, "Hey it's Disco Wink".
Then it came to be that I shouldn't always be Disco Winky, that it should change week to week. I then became the pirate wench who would serve the swill and cuss and smoke a lot. I would wear old whenchy dresses with my boobs all hoisted up under my chin. Aye! When I was Madam Whench I would have a parrot who would fly and land on shoulders of innocent young boys at the bar and squawk, "Raarr, he farted... it was him, raaar". I would then in all my whenchyness toss the poor young rascal out onto the curb.
Then I decided I wanted to open my own bar called Captain Flapjack's Regal Beaver, and every night of the week I would come in as one of my alter-egos that they had donned a name for. I would either be Madam Whench, Disco Wink, Skank, Bernice... and what not. I would have my fart blaming parrot, a chimp that smoked and served drinks with his furry little fingers all up in their cocktails dropping the glasses down on the bar in front of his chosen customer. There would be a moving walkway behind the bar so when you went to serve someone at the other end customers would just see you face forward, still as can be, moving down to the other end(this would be a highlighted feature for Disco Wink, strike a disco pose and float to the other peeps). I would have a kareoke machine hooked to the t.v. behind the bar but I wouldn't let anyone but myself use it. I would just stand, while the chimp slaved over drinks, and croon horribly into the mic. The place would be packed, everyone would want to go to Captain Flapjack's Regal Beaver. The name of the bar is getting worked on because as Eric so kindly put it, "A name like that, Skank, it's gonna' quickly became the hottest dyke bar in town... which I'll still come.". So maybe I'll think about it.
I fear if I don't show up as someone other than myself this week I will lose my Good Time Charlie's. I fear if I do show up as someone other than myself I will lose my job. "Winky we're going to have to let you go and these gentlemen in the pretty white truck with the white jacket are going to take you to a lovely little place where you can get some rest.".
Ah woe is me.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
The Sue's Believe
Since I was about eight years old my brother and I have called each other Sue, him of course Big Sue... me Little Sue(even more charming his one year old daughter has now become The Lil'est Sue), even though neither of our names in any way even come close to being Sue. So, I was talking with Big Sue the other day and and(what was that do I stutter when I type?) we both admitted that there is still this funny part of us that believes in all these events that were amp't up from our childhood immagination. Like...
1. One day after we had finished catching crawdads in the creek and were heading up the hill to our street, we were suddenly startled by a fox. Now alive in both of our memories is Big Sue, screaming like a schoolgirl, running a fully olypic run home cutting through the back yards of our neighbors. Here's the tricky part, we both remember him hurdling about ten chainlink fences. He was six, still we are both convinced he did this and boast the story to others as often as possible. We both also remember I stayed behind, and like some child who had spent her life lost in a forest, befriended the fox and shared a laugh about Big Sue and all his girlyness.
We believe this happened.
2. Another creek story. One hot summer day I remember sitting on the bank of the creek, in my overalls frog in the chest pocket, with Big Sue, in his short red shorts and white mesh tank top, catching crawdads. This was a pretty regular event for my brother and me. We liked to catch crawdads then take them home and boil them and sit around commenting on how much they tasted like chicken, to a couple poor kids from Missouri this seemed like a sophisticated affair. On this particular day we had invited the Johnson gang along. They were the rotten sibling pack we had been troublemaking with since birth. The memory stands like this... Good One Honey, The Prick, Pizza(that's my big sis, often called Sissa or Neyney as well) were wading their way up the creek, which was surely just sewage water, to where Big Sue and I had found a goldrush of craws when the air was peirced with death screams from the oldest of the bunch, Queen Lisa Beth. Big Sue and I jumped to our feet and we all looked back down our kid river to see the Queen sinking in quicksand(mind you this is Missouri). She was a good forty feet back from the rest of us, just sinking away, so we had to think fast.
"Good One Honey, tie up the craw bag and give me that rope holdin' your pants up. Pizza, grab that big stick over there. Lil' Sue, you and The Prick take the bucket and put as much dry dirt and grass as you can in it... GO!", Big Sue was takin' charge.
The hillbilly army worked fast Good One Honey, Pizza, and Big Sue ran to Queen Lisa Beth to get that rope tied around her seeing that she was waist deep now. The Prick and I hustled to fill that bucket with dry goods, and ran to Big Sue who now had Pizza holdin' tight to the other end of the rope while he held out the big stick for the Queen to grab onto.
"Now hurry put the dry stuff in around her so we can get her out!" Big Sue barked his order.
The Queen got up to her chest, and just when we were losin' hope the system started to work. There was grunting and moaning and sweating, and with all our might she was finally on dry ground again.
Then we all went back to our house and boiled up some crawdads.
"Taste like chicken".
"It does taste like chicken".
"Yes chicken".
We believe this happened.
3. We used to sometimes spend Christmas at our Auntie's house in Walla Walla Washington, land that proudly claims Walla Walla Sweets(or more plainly, an onion) as there claim to fame. This one particular Christmas Eve Big Sue, Pizza, myself and our cousins Bobby, Cheryl Anne, and Anne Cheryl were all playing Star Wars in our Underoo's(I by the way always demanded that I be R2-D2) in Bobby's room when we heard the sound of jingle bells coming from what seemed to be outside his second story window. We all fell silent and stoped dead in our Death Star tracks, it couldn't be. We clammored, pushed, and shoved to be the one's front of the pack looking out the window. Big Sue and myself faces pushed up to the payne couldn't believe oue eyes. There through the trees we could see the shape of a giant sled with, what looked like, eight really in shape horses flying out front of it. The sound of bells faded as this moment of magic disappeared in the night.
We believe this happened.
4. The very first house I lived in was a small two bedroom house on White Oak in a scraggly white trash ghetto in Missouri, the house was puke green. There are so many of these events that took place in this house that I am just going to have to list together, because it would take years to fully tell them all. At this house I was often found out front eating dirt and ants next to the big oak tree, in nothing but my underware Big Sue in tow, watching the Baker's(all 10 children) across the street. They had a three bedroom place. When we weren't watching Billy and Willy Baker, the two eldest boys, dancing on the roof in nothing but cowboy boots waving their BB guns in the air... we were watching the once a week bath line up. You see the Bakers had a summer tub outside their place which was just a big metal bin filled with water, and once a week all ten of them would line up shortest to tallest. One by one they would pull all their cloths off, stack 'em in a big pile to the side of the wash tub, and climb in searching for the bar of soap, suds up to their own personal liking, climb out use THE towell and run over to the cloths line and put on their other outfit. This was always a good hour of entertainment for Sue and I. Then their was also the day willy walked over to Sue and I and held up his bare foot and said through his missin' tooth mouth, "Looky". And I'll be damned if he didn't have a nail stickin' all the way through his foot. Then he shrugged and made a face like 'ah well', and walked away.
Inside this house was a hole other mecca of excitement. Their were elves working hard in the vents. Sue would feed me bottles of Scope. Fluff our gerbil lay dead in the corner in his platic ball. A blue lady named Roberta lived in the closet of our bedroom the three of us shared. Roberta was very sad. My mother, who is certifiably insane(no really I was born in the Sanitarium, no joke), placed phone calls to Bob Barker, and re-carpeted the whole house using nothing but mis-matched carpet swatches. The reason, you may ask, why she did this was.... education. My mother used to line Pizza, Sue and I up in the kitchen and make us jump from rectangle to rectangle shouting out the color and type of carpet each swatch was.
"Yellow Burber!" Sue yelled
"Green Shag!" Pizza would follow.
"Black Astroturf!" I would say even though I knew damn well I was on a swatch of woven stain-fade, static-resistant fiber mix of geometrical design in an erray of varying shades of red.
This would cause my mother to throw a full box of ice cream in the kitchen sink and scream, "I suppose you think this belongs here!". Then she would sulk to her room for under the bed mommy alone time. Then my father would say, "she's all yours kid, you made her this way.".
This was also the house Pizza, Sue and I saw an ambulence fly down the street, but this ambulence had a window in the back that was open and George Brett's, 1985's baseball superstar, leg was sticking out of it. We saw George Brett, and we told everyone.
Oh the salad days.
We believe this happened.
5. The third house we lived in Big Sue got his own bedroom. I, however, shared a room with Pizza. Pizza hated this because I would scream and cry, while she tried to sleep in our shared bed, until she placed her hand over my eyes(this was apperently the only way I could sleep). Some nights were different, I was a brave loner, and I would pull my lamp and my recorder with the microphone into my closet and stay up all night recording the greatest radio show ever. This is the room where we saw the black panther(actual animal) climb the screen outside the window(Missouri, remember) Big Sue and I both saw it.
Big Sue at some point began to feel bad for me in the shared room, and petitioned by eating an entire bottle of asprin to have Pizza move to the basement. After the stomcah pumping I found myself in a small bedroom all of my own and as a room warming gift Sue built, using every piece of furniture and door knobs, a giant spider web out of kite string that was strong enough for me to climb on and sit. He knew I still spent many hours of the day crying for Charlotte, so on my web that day I sat and cried and become one with Charlotte... her memory lives on.
It was at our third house where Sue challenged me at two in the morning to stand up and ride my bike as slow as I could. I tried, but while riding I fell asleep, fell off the bike, hit my head on the curb and got a concusion. I slept for weeks before Sue and my father could get me up off the curb. Only to have me walk five feet into the lawn where I fell asleep again hitting my head on a rock. I was at the hospital for a while after those naps.
The third house is also the house we saw my father, from my bedroom window, carrying a bloody girl my age down the street.
We believe this happened.
I am now feeling restless, it could go on forever... but I would hate to put you though that pain.
See you all at the table.
1. One day after we had finished catching crawdads in the creek and were heading up the hill to our street, we were suddenly startled by a fox. Now alive in both of our memories is Big Sue, screaming like a schoolgirl, running a fully olypic run home cutting through the back yards of our neighbors. Here's the tricky part, we both remember him hurdling about ten chainlink fences. He was six, still we are both convinced he did this and boast the story to others as often as possible. We both also remember I stayed behind, and like some child who had spent her life lost in a forest, befriended the fox and shared a laugh about Big Sue and all his girlyness.
We believe this happened.
2. Another creek story. One hot summer day I remember sitting on the bank of the creek, in my overalls frog in the chest pocket, with Big Sue, in his short red shorts and white mesh tank top, catching crawdads. This was a pretty regular event for my brother and me. We liked to catch crawdads then take them home and boil them and sit around commenting on how much they tasted like chicken, to a couple poor kids from Missouri this seemed like a sophisticated affair. On this particular day we had invited the Johnson gang along. They were the rotten sibling pack we had been troublemaking with since birth. The memory stands like this... Good One Honey, The Prick, Pizza(that's my big sis, often called Sissa or Neyney as well) were wading their way up the creek, which was surely just sewage water, to where Big Sue and I had found a goldrush of craws when the air was peirced with death screams from the oldest of the bunch, Queen Lisa Beth. Big Sue and I jumped to our feet and we all looked back down our kid river to see the Queen sinking in quicksand(mind you this is Missouri). She was a good forty feet back from the rest of us, just sinking away, so we had to think fast.
"Good One Honey, tie up the craw bag and give me that rope holdin' your pants up. Pizza, grab that big stick over there. Lil' Sue, you and The Prick take the bucket and put as much dry dirt and grass as you can in it... GO!", Big Sue was takin' charge.
The hillbilly army worked fast Good One Honey, Pizza, and Big Sue ran to Queen Lisa Beth to get that rope tied around her seeing that she was waist deep now. The Prick and I hustled to fill that bucket with dry goods, and ran to Big Sue who now had Pizza holdin' tight to the other end of the rope while he held out the big stick for the Queen to grab onto.
"Now hurry put the dry stuff in around her so we can get her out!" Big Sue barked his order.
The Queen got up to her chest, and just when we were losin' hope the system started to work. There was grunting and moaning and sweating, and with all our might she was finally on dry ground again.
Then we all went back to our house and boiled up some crawdads.
"Taste like chicken".
"It does taste like chicken".
"Yes chicken".
We believe this happened.
3. We used to sometimes spend Christmas at our Auntie's house in Walla Walla Washington, land that proudly claims Walla Walla Sweets(or more plainly, an onion) as there claim to fame. This one particular Christmas Eve Big Sue, Pizza, myself and our cousins Bobby, Cheryl Anne, and Anne Cheryl were all playing Star Wars in our Underoo's(I by the way always demanded that I be R2-D2) in Bobby's room when we heard the sound of jingle bells coming from what seemed to be outside his second story window. We all fell silent and stoped dead in our Death Star tracks, it couldn't be. We clammored, pushed, and shoved to be the one's front of the pack looking out the window. Big Sue and myself faces pushed up to the payne couldn't believe oue eyes. There through the trees we could see the shape of a giant sled with, what looked like, eight really in shape horses flying out front of it. The sound of bells faded as this moment of magic disappeared in the night.
We believe this happened.
4. The very first house I lived in was a small two bedroom house on White Oak in a scraggly white trash ghetto in Missouri, the house was puke green. There are so many of these events that took place in this house that I am just going to have to list together, because it would take years to fully tell them all. At this house I was often found out front eating dirt and ants next to the big oak tree, in nothing but my underware Big Sue in tow, watching the Baker's(all 10 children) across the street. They had a three bedroom place. When we weren't watching Billy and Willy Baker, the two eldest boys, dancing on the roof in nothing but cowboy boots waving their BB guns in the air... we were watching the once a week bath line up. You see the Bakers had a summer tub outside their place which was just a big metal bin filled with water, and once a week all ten of them would line up shortest to tallest. One by one they would pull all their cloths off, stack 'em in a big pile to the side of the wash tub, and climb in searching for the bar of soap, suds up to their own personal liking, climb out use THE towell and run over to the cloths line and put on their other outfit. This was always a good hour of entertainment for Sue and I. Then their was also the day willy walked over to Sue and I and held up his bare foot and said through his missin' tooth mouth, "Looky". And I'll be damned if he didn't have a nail stickin' all the way through his foot. Then he shrugged and made a face like 'ah well', and walked away.
Inside this house was a hole other mecca of excitement. Their were elves working hard in the vents. Sue would feed me bottles of Scope. Fluff our gerbil lay dead in the corner in his platic ball. A blue lady named Roberta lived in the closet of our bedroom the three of us shared. Roberta was very sad. My mother, who is certifiably insane(no really I was born in the Sanitarium, no joke), placed phone calls to Bob Barker, and re-carpeted the whole house using nothing but mis-matched carpet swatches. The reason, you may ask, why she did this was.... education. My mother used to line Pizza, Sue and I up in the kitchen and make us jump from rectangle to rectangle shouting out the color and type of carpet each swatch was.
"Yellow Burber!" Sue yelled
"Green Shag!" Pizza would follow.
"Black Astroturf!" I would say even though I knew damn well I was on a swatch of woven stain-fade, static-resistant fiber mix of geometrical design in an erray of varying shades of red.
This would cause my mother to throw a full box of ice cream in the kitchen sink and scream, "I suppose you think this belongs here!". Then she would sulk to her room for under the bed mommy alone time. Then my father would say, "she's all yours kid, you made her this way.".
This was also the house Pizza, Sue and I saw an ambulence fly down the street, but this ambulence had a window in the back that was open and George Brett's, 1985's baseball superstar, leg was sticking out of it. We saw George Brett, and we told everyone.
Oh the salad days.
We believe this happened.
5. The third house we lived in Big Sue got his own bedroom. I, however, shared a room with Pizza. Pizza hated this because I would scream and cry, while she tried to sleep in our shared bed, until she placed her hand over my eyes(this was apperently the only way I could sleep). Some nights were different, I was a brave loner, and I would pull my lamp and my recorder with the microphone into my closet and stay up all night recording the greatest radio show ever. This is the room where we saw the black panther(actual animal) climb the screen outside the window(Missouri, remember) Big Sue and I both saw it.
Big Sue at some point began to feel bad for me in the shared room, and petitioned by eating an entire bottle of asprin to have Pizza move to the basement. After the stomcah pumping I found myself in a small bedroom all of my own and as a room warming gift Sue built, using every piece of furniture and door knobs, a giant spider web out of kite string that was strong enough for me to climb on and sit. He knew I still spent many hours of the day crying for Charlotte, so on my web that day I sat and cried and become one with Charlotte... her memory lives on.
It was at our third house where Sue challenged me at two in the morning to stand up and ride my bike as slow as I could. I tried, but while riding I fell asleep, fell off the bike, hit my head on the curb and got a concusion. I slept for weeks before Sue and my father could get me up off the curb. Only to have me walk five feet into the lawn where I fell asleep again hitting my head on a rock. I was at the hospital for a while after those naps.
The third house is also the house we saw my father, from my bedroom window, carrying a bloody girl my age down the street.
We believe this happened.
I am now feeling restless, it could go on forever... but I would hate to put you though that pain.
See you all at the table.
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