Sunday, August 27, 2006

six million dollar man breaks silence!


this morning when louie jew and I were at the park, fanny pack made a cameo. it was all very exciting!

the conversation went like this:

fanny pack: good morning.

(I did an over the shoulder glance as a "just in case" he wasn't speaking to me.)

me: good morning to you.

fanny pack: he sure can jump.

(oh my god, you still have the bionic voice. oh, please do a slow motion bionic jump! please, please with sugar on top, please.)

me: why yes he can!

fanny pack: I'd hate to be that rope!

the toy I throw to louie. I know. you know. whatever.

me: laughing. laughing. laughing. gratuitous. gratuitous. gratuitous.

bitchy or not, it was still a great bionic moment. I wanted to ask if his plastic surgery included any bionic capabilities but I thought that would be rude. do we know if bioboy is seemingly straight or a voracious bottom?

what is wrong with people?


today, I was minding my own business while stopped at an intersection.

I drive a 30-year-old bmw. it ain't flashy. but it's a sweet ride ... to me. albeit not very jew-c of me. but, it was free. it's in mint condition with only 50,000 miles. believe me, my grandmothers are plotzing in heaven from this deal.

so, all of a sudden I hear a loud vroom, vroom, vrroooooom next to me. I look over and see mr. midlife crisis, clearly working on wife #3, driving some obnoxious orange cock extender on wheels, staring at me while revving his engine.

BUT WAIT.

believe me when I say it wasn't sexual. don't hock. let me be in the epicenter of my self esteem crisis in peace. thank you, dahlings.

he mouths, "it's on!"

mind you, I'm having a perfectly jewrific sunday. I'm driving with my dog, louie, listening to the way we were. a little, sailing by christopher cross. the rose. louie's popping his head out the sunroof. no the window. no the sunroof. I'm drinking crystal light lemonade. he's drinking icy water from his bowl.

WHAT'S BAD?! NEWS...

wellllll, mr. hunting for third wife, rolls his window down and over his revving engine screams, "race?! come on!"

I started laughing.

he says, "scared I'm gonna whup your ass?!"

ps: who says, whup? that is so short bus.

I said, "what is wrong with you?! what part of this car and me, makes you think I want to race you?!"

so, what does he do... he punches the gas and as he's driving off into the distance, I hear, "puuuuussssyyyyy."

ahhh... moments later, I rolled past his mini cockhighness and witnessed a most peeved officer giving him a ticket. I blew him a kiss.

nobody calls katie a pussy! (baby in the corner enough for you?! the shame)

flash fiction friday....


even when cormac brown is out of town, he manages to spin one hell of a yarn! check it out, "they call her the breeze". it's a quick, great read with lots of twists and turns.

amy guth:: writer

here's a dame with moxie, amy guth. acclaimed writer and anti socialite with an absolute point of view. read her rantings. buy her book, three fallen women. now. not later. come on! she's fabulous. check back on sunday, september 10th to read her interview:

amy guth, the wise crackin' feminist behind three fallen women

 

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