Rants, Rants, and More Rants

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So what have we learned from trying the Ice Age Paleo Foods All Tacos, All the Time Diet?  A secret to a happy life is to avoid crappy food that makes you long for Alka Seltzer AS YOU’RE EATING IT.

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I stumbled on this room and was struck by a couple of things 1) I could furnish probably 10 – 15 rooms with all that crap and still have a lot of fringe left over and 2) what are the chances of finding your phone or your glasses or last night’s rent boy in there?  And yet, I like it.

My gardener, who is driving three hours up the coast to spend the day with his semi-invalid mother who doesn’t like his boyfriend, asked me today what I planned for Xmas.  I said I was going to take Oxycodone and stay in bed all day.  We both knew he envied me, but talked about pruning the tibouchina and how nice the ceanothus looks with all the little stick dead branches meticulously removed instead.  I still like my plan best.

Saki has decided he wants to live the life of a wild, free feral cat and so has taken to trying to squeeze out the backdoor if I happen go out there.  Since his idea of making a break for it constitutes trotting two feet out onto the patio and then stopping and waiting for me to pick him up and carry him inside, progress has been slow.

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It’s my blog.  If I want to insert random muscle butts, I will.  At least until the death of Net Neutrality starts charging me extra for it.  But who wouldn’t pay for pussy like that?

I have taken to shaving only on the nights before I know I will have to leave the house the next day.  Since that is becoming  a rarer and rarer event, I now look like a not very competent pedophile who’s going to ask you for spare change.  You will not give it, and I will scream “Yeah, Merry fucking christmas you cheap motherfucker.”  I  have it all planned out.

I’ve decided to quit complaining about Xmas decorations being flung about starting before Halloweeen and just go with it.  Last year at this time I was in a Houston hotel that’s connected to a shopping center, the decorations of which would cause temporary blindness they were so extravagant.  So this year, avoiding downtown, the decorations seem innocuous.  They’re an attractive enough addition to the local scene; they are, afterall, decorative.  Turns out being a shut-in has its advantages.  The military industrial retail complex and the christians are going to shove christmas down our throats anyway.   Just relax your gag reflex and it’ll all be over soon enough.

There. think of this as my christmas card to all of you from me and Saki, the Evil and Adorable cat.  hugs.

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The Spirit of Christmas Butt Plug.

20 responses »

    • Isn’t it divoon? Can trying to survive in that decorating typhoon? I can just see the Barbara Cartland old bat tenant yelling screaming for the maid (“”Carmen. Carmen goddamit.”) to come show her the door. Again.

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  1. The temptation to fall for Christmas expectation always lurks around the edges at this time of year. What it’s suppose to be and what it really is never rises to those expectations. There’s the big build up to the let down. I blame far too many idealized TV Christmas shows in my youth. The one thing that makes me happy is the solstice. A real event. The light begins to return. In three months I get to see what the bulbs I put in this past fall are going to do.

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    • I think planting bulbs is an act of faith. I also think it’s a good way to feed the moles, but I do it anyway. Which reminds me, I need to order some anemones.

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  2. Well, I think it’s a perfectly charming room, although I’m a tad puzzled as to how they’ve apparently suspended a vast orb of gardenias (or possibly camellias?) from the ceiling.

    Boudi-the-Yorkie has a similar making-a-break for it phase every now and again, which consists of his sneaking out the apartment door around our shins and then trotting halfway up the hallway before suddenly feeling Far Too Far From Home and racing back.

    But just where _is_ that room?

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    • When your salon is so crammed you have to put the flowers on the ceiling, it may be time for an intervention.

      Where could this possibly be located? Beats me. The Sister Parish Memorial Lounge in Chintzland?

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  3. The beauty of that room is that you could leave your Christmas decorations up all year and no one would ever know.

    Speaking of Christmas decorations, I was sure you’d be walking around downtown with mistletoe tied to your belt, fore and aft. Especially if Saki went outside and met your neighbor, Mr. LePew.

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