Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: chocolate

Captured At Last

Yes, the Beast has now been in my home. How was he lured? With slabs of charred meat, of course.

Before they arrived, we cop-proofed the house (similar to child-proofing–lock the cabinets, put sharp objects out of reach, etc.).

His handler, Cinderella Sam, brought him by after dark, so he couldn’t see the tree in the back from that last frightening adventure. The cage car was parked on the street rather than in my driveway–I suppose because they thought they were only staying for a few minutes, the more fool them.

Once dragged inside the house, he kept looking up at the ceiling, fearing a net would drop down and trap him. Actually, I had put the nets away because we didn’t expect our guests to arrive so late. (If the nets aren’t taken down and cleaned regularly, they collect spiderwebs. Nick was once stalked by a rabid spider which had to be shot, so it wasn’t worth risking a traumatic flashback.)

After throwing pork steaks in his general direction, and tossing small pink cupcakes for dessert, he grabbed my jar of chocolate chips, dragged them into the corner, and growled when approached. To distract him, I grabbed the nearest thing to hand–a tube of lip balm–and held it up. “Look! It’s purple!” He raised his head, eyes gleaming, and I grabbed the candy jar back before he could bite me. Then he gathered himself for a spring, so–distraction is so important!–I rolled the lip balm toward him, and he snapped it up at once and swallowed it. “It’s vanilla-flavored! Do you have a chocolate one?”

“No more chocolate for you,” I said hastily. “Let’s tour the house, shall we?”

He sniffed all around my office–the computer particularly fascinated him. “Is this where your stories come from?” I was afraid he would try to mark it in some manner, but, being a neat and cleanly beast, he contented himself with trying to look behind the screen to find the stories.

The bedroom was next. He was so excited to see my bed that he leaped up on it and began chasing his tail, and getting the sheets all rucked up, until Sam finally made him get down. I’m glad she did. I don’t know what we would have done if he’d decided to curl up on it.

There are some additional details, involving, well, apple ale, and a spider that tried to sit on my lap and made me hide behind Nick until Rom had killed it, but I’m leaving those out, because it’s my party and I’ll selectively edit what I want to.

I developed quite the headache before bedtime. When I told Nick about it the next day, he said, “People often get withdrawals after I leave.” As Saki said about a bratty child, I should like to spank him forever, stopping, of course, at mealtimes.

Something Twisted and Sinister

But first, Worst Product Launch Award goes to chocolate-flavored toothpaste. Hey, I use toothpaste because of chocolate.


(And, to those who don’t get the reference, may I just point out that Google is your friend.)

–I have truly terrible eyesight. I took my glasses off tonight, prior to pulling off my shirt, saw a flash of white behind the chair in the bedroom, and started talking affectionately to my black-and-white cat. Turns out I was talking to the table leg.

Someone was surprised to find out I like “Justified.” People seem to think I’m a schoolmarmish type who doesn’t drink or cuss. Actually, I dream to someday be drunk enough to do karaoke to “House of the Rising Sun.” It would be especially worthwhile because I’ve come up with alternate lyrics, to fit my own personal life story.


It occurs to me that my rendezvous with Nick & Sam & Hollie at Thornton’s the other day could be referred to as a meeting of the Sarcasm Club. However, it’s hard to look down on other people when your clubhouse is a convenience store.

I told Nick I didn’t think he would want me as a ridealong, considering my behavior in the squad car the other day. He assured me my struggles would soon subside. For some reason, I did not find this reassuring, but rather the reverse. Perhaps it was his use of the phrase “a state of frozen horror.”


A caller told me, “I can’t give you the license number if you won’t listen to me!” Please spare me your condescension, since I can’t get the information I need in the order I need it if you’re yelling a license number in my ear as soon as I answer the phone. And no, don’t speed up after the reckless driver so you can read it. And, having done so anyway, don’t add, “And I’ve got my kids in the car!” You’re part of the problem, kthnxbye.


There’s A Party In My Mind

…there’s a party up there ALL the time…Yes, it’s another Talking Heads quote. But I have no fear of being sued, because I am toiling away in obscurity. Well, sort of toiling away. When I feel like it. Which may account for the obscurity.


He once said, “Nothing you are capable of providing could lure me to your lair.” Well, the trap only needed to be baited with…CHOCOLATE! He still wouldn’t set foot inside my house, but he was on my property (and his owner was present, to keep him from bolting away or biting the hand that fed him). See, Nick, I had you eating out of my hand after all. So taming is not out of the question.


Party up there all the time, remember? Whenever you hear a song that mentions a person’s name, imagine someone you know with that name being/doing whatever the lyrics say. I personally am handicapped by having a really dopey song (so that I wonder whenever someone says, “Hey, Paula” if they’re thinking about that stupid song). But the possibilities are endless:

–To a 911 caller I’ve spoken to frequently: “Help me Rhonda, help help me Rhonda…” (Just imagine if she were to call and I BURST INTO SONG)

–To a supervisor: “Hey, Carrie Ann, what’s your game now, can anybody play?” You only get half credit for this one, since her middle name isn’t Ann. But there is a Blue Oyster Cult song, “Astronomy,” with the line “But it’s never said at all, on the map that Carrie reads..”

A Certain Person would certainly butt in here and burst into “Johnny Angel, how I love you,” concerning an officer of our acquaintance. And speaking of officers, you can expand the playing field by counting professions in song lyrics as well as names. For example, there is a David Bowie line from “Ziggy Stardust,” “A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest, and a queer threw up at the sight of that.” You can imagine the fun I had with that one.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO FOXY! You know she’s a cute little heartbreaker…



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