Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: roses

I Remembered To Show Up

…belatedly.

OBSERVATIONAL HUMOR

…is what Rom says this is.

Brought to you courtesy of Nick, who showed up at my door on my birthday with a gift bag full of apple ale clenched in his teeth, before flying away. The bag was black and had scratchy glitter on it. I suspect this was deliberate. Have you noticed that such bags always have the scratchy glitter on one side, but are smooth on the other side, so that glitter doesn’t rub off on your clothes? Why do I always have to touch the glitter anyway, even though it makes me shudder?

I have had 2 cans of ale (my normal dose), which makes me want to spend money on something self-indulgent. Last year it was green-and-white gingham shorts, but I resisted the temptation. (I love green-and-white gingham, and plaid with a black background. These prints give me a feeling of security. They’re like the opposite of the Baby Corn and the Union Suit. Anyone remember those? Check the posts under Conspiracy News for more info.)Now am tempted by some Keds in Iris Shimmer, and an Almond Cucumber perfume sample, even though I tried the AC perfume before and it didn’t work for me. Almond and cucumber are my comfort notes (kind of like the Magic Prints noted above), so I keep thinking, But it has to work! Sometimes perfume just refuses to cooperate.

OK, I hit some key that keeps deleting stuff I didn’t intend, and I don’t know what I hit, so I can’t correct it, and that is why the above paragraph is incorrectly punctuated.

SONG LYRIC ANALYSIS–MOODY BLUES

“Schoolwork, one and one is two

But you know that now that’s just not true”

Yes, it is true. Your ingestion of LSD does not affect its veracity.

AND THE DOORS

Rom says that “When the Music’s Over–turn out the lights” makes him think, “turnip delight.” You’re welcome. I hope I can forget that before I listen to it again.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of Alien Finger, which is celebrating by being stiff and sore, which I suppose is appropriate. I keep reading about people who dislocate a finger, pop it right back in, and it’s good as new. What’s their secret? Youth, probably.

Today is Pentecost, which makes me think, “Here he comes to save the day! That means the Paraclete is on his way!”

Long ago, my cousin Becky (hurray for Facebook and cousin Linda, who helped me discover cousins on the Forbidden Side of the family!) asked me, “Do you miss working?” After long thought, I can say I sometimes miss having a job (a Purpose in Life and all that, though I never thought of 911 as that purpose), but I don’t miss having that job. As I think every time I go by Dispatch on the bus and think, Glad I’m not answering phones in there.

IT HAS TO BE CLASSY, IT HAS CARPET–TACO JOHN’S

I visited this fine establishment on Cinco de Mayo. Since it was Saturday, I had church, and couldn’t go to Hacienda and have a strawberry daiquiri, which would have been the logical thing to do. Although people might have been drunk at St Boniface Church before.

Taco John’s has been around since 1969, although Rom can’t remember it the year he graduated from high school. The identity of Taco John is mysterious. I imagine him being kind of like Johnny Appleseed.

TJ’s is the only carpeted fast-food place I know of. Like the Women’s Hospital, the addition of carpet adds a certain cachet. It’s almost like you’re at home, except that someone cut into your abdomen. At the hospital, I mean, not at Taco John’s.

My softshell taco was very good, especially since the clever person who assembled it added a tuck-and-fold technique that meant I didn’t have to balance it carefully to keep everything from falling out the end. That must have been a Cinco de Mayo special, though, since it has fallen out the end every other time I’ve been there.

Ah, Potato Ole’s. The old Mexican classic of disc-shaped Tater Tots sprinkled with Lawry’s seasoned salt. Cinco de Mayo marked the first time I have ever finished an order. And if you put cheese on them, you are gilding the lily. And if you put bacon bits, donut bites, icing, and chocolate on them and EAT THEM FOR DESSERT, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

TJ’s has a senior discount of 10%. I forgot to add discount information when I wrote about Taco Bell, but that was because I got 10% off there once, and the next time I requested it, the manager said they didn’t have a discount. Maybe I just looked too young.

LEGGINGS AS PANTS UPDATE

I am actually not against leggings as a lower half, as long as you wear a butt-covering top. But today I saw a woman who did wear a butt-covering top, but then knotted it up in the back, because she got dressed and thought, “Oh no! Now no one can see my butt!”

Speaking of entities trying to defy me, the roses in my yard, which normally bloom in mid-May, burst into glorious bloom simultaneously on THE DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY.

Spellcheck thinks “donut” is not a word. I don’t know what to tell it.

WordPress has an icon in the corner that says “Stress-Free Writing Experience.” I have to find out what that might be, but I am too stressed-out at the moment. As is Alien Finger.

 

 

Day 5: Quantity, Not Quality

Be advised that I did not promise a minimum length of post. Attempts to refer to a mythical “spirit of the law” will be disregarded just as I disregard the “spirit of Vatican II.”

Sunday was that wonderful first day when it’s 25 degrees and you walk out, look around, and think, “Oh, look! Everything died!” Except the little pink bouquet from our wedding rosebush (given to us as a wedding gift–the variety was actually introduced that year, in ’87–so cool!) which Rom collects and brings in every year.

I neglected to say that the old post I dealt with yesterday was the first to mention a certain Nick, who should need no introduction, but is insisting on getting one anyway. Of course, he had not been transformed into a beast at that point. It will be interesting to see when the metamorphosis occurs.

S.G. POST #5, 2/28/13: Crisis in Progress/FanBase Follies/Mildly Amusing Adventures TRIFECTA

–I exulted in my fan mail, including someone who wanted to know why I wasn’t a columnist for a major national newspaper. That question remains unanswered.

–I noted scratchy/glittery nail polish at Walgreen’s which was called “Almost Famous.” I think my own situation could be better characterized as “Almost Obscure.”

–I told a story about The Entity Now Known As A Certain Person getting humped by a police dog while she was on the air.

OK, I am now on vacation, and you know what that means–DRUNK POSTING! Not just yet, though.

WORDS! WORDS! WORDS! Nick, can I go to bed now?

 

A Clean Bill of Health

Forgot to mention–during my ordeal, Ez stuck her head in the bathroom door to check on me–then immediately withdrew. Which goes to show that an animal’s love is not, in fact, unconditional.

I am in a good mood, because I will not have to drink that stuff for another 10 years, and I might be dead by then. Not only did it taste like the devil’s attempt at 7-Up, it had the consistency of spit.

As a souvenir, I have a big grape-colored bruise on my arm, due to difficulties getting the IV started. I should have known when the woman doing it said, “You know, I really appreciate it when it acts like it’s supposed to.” Which means that it either acted like it was supposed to, or it didn’t. At any rate, it will be 3/4 sleeves for me for the foreseeable future, because it looks like I tried to inject drugs, but was incompetent. Which I probably would be if I did. Today I wanted to wear one of my rose-print sweaters, and had 3 color choices with the desired sleeve length. “Multi Floral”–nope, too multi-colored, might match a bruise on the arm too well.  Black and blue print–not even to be considered. I settled on “Coral Bliss with Bavarian Cream,” which is probably the most overwrought color name Lands End has yet come up with.

WORLD LEADER REMINDER

Halloween decorations are not allowed to go up until October.

Speaking of the season it ’tis (I say redundantly), at Walgreens they have a life-sized witch statue, which startles me every time I go in. For one thing, she’s almost exactly my height. (Nick, do not breathe one word. Not a single word, understand?) As happens every year, I had to restrain myself from spending 99 cents (because they think we won’t notice that that’s basically $1) on a black silk rose with my choice of red, purple, or silver glitter, because what would I do with that? Stick it in my mailbox at work? Speaking of self-restraint, I was enticed by a display of Disney Villains makeup. Now I don’t need more makeup, but who could resist eyeshadows with color names like Dungeon and Scream of Fright? (“Not you, certainly,” says Nick, laying his hand on his taser, as he so often does when he’s in uniform in my presence. He must be easily frightened.) I will probably be kept from purchasing these by a dilemma–I have a sentimental attachment to Maleficent, because I had a Sleeping Beauty book as a kid, when the Disney movie first came out…but the colors in the Evil-Queen-from-Snow-White palette would actually look better with my coloring. Yes, the villainess from Snow White doesn’t have a name–they just call her Evil Queen. If I were an evil queen, I’d do something about that.

Speaking of evil, I was pleased to note that, for the first time, the concept of the Evil Clown is really taking off this year.

(Disclaimer: Unlike all other bloggers on the face of the earth, I have not been able to figure out how to negotiate a lucrative tie-in, so Walgreen’s is not, in fact, giving me a lifetime supply of Halloween decorations in exchange for this post. Even though there is a creepy spider living in my bathroom. And even though when Rom took his pack down from the hook,  70+ stink bugs came trooping out like the passengers in a clown car. An evil clown car.) 

Better Living Through Chemistry

A GOOD DAY TO BE A CRIMINAL MASTERMIND…

–The piped-in music at McDonald’s was playing “No More Mr. Nice Guy” when I walked in. I don’t often hear Alice Cooper when I’m out and about.

–A sign at the same venue said, “I like my milk dark–like the night.”…attributed to Batman. Yes! Chocolate milk is badass!

–I found some rose-scented deodorant. Wow!

…CRISIS IN PROGRESS PRESENTS…

A guy attempted suicide by overdosing on Viagra. I guess you gotta work with what you have on hand.

Bee My Basket Pound

Someone called 911 for a hangnail. Come to think of it, I’ve got an ingrown toenail that should be looked at.

WORLD LEADER EDICTS: VALENTINE’S DAY GUIDELINES

–Can we have an adult holiday for once? None of this “Grandson, Bee My Valentine” nonsense. The day should be about chocolates and roses and massage oil. Hey, it’s too cold to come out from under the covers anyway.

–Valentine presents to avoid include: A.) a stuffed bear with a heart on it, and B.) a fake rose from a convenience store. If you find yourself at a convenience store doing your Valentine’s Day shopping, I recommend the giant Reese cup heart. In fact, I’m craving one right now.

–Not to give anyone ideas, but why doesn’t Valentine’s Day include Frosty the Snowman? The weather is the same.

–A lottery ticket is a good addition to a pre-existing gift, but never give a lottery ticket as the only gift. Because the odds are that they’ll get…nothing.

I don’t think they do it anymore, but I used to enjoy reading the Valentine classified ads in the paper, and laughing at people’s pet names for each other, which were, of course, sillier than the ones Rom and I employ. I was struck in particular by how many couples stated, “You’re my Basket Pound.” I had no idea this was a common endearment. For that matter, what the hell does it mean? A basset hound for the illiterate?

WORD OF THE DAY

sulled-up (derivation: Rom, via his northern Florida relatives): sullen, surly, as in, “You don’t have to get all sulled-up about it.”

 

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