Thursday, March 26, 2009
So she replied,
"Learn how to program a phone and stop drunk dialing me." But it was 2 a.m. so it really soundwd like, "Go***$!! ur f$~~^% phone and stop #@!% dialing me bitch."
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
So she replied,
"No, a pink shirt does not make you look gay. The stuffed animals on your computer and the other hand..... Want to go to antiquing with me this weekend?"
So she replied,
"No I will not join you you all mouth big headed spoon lickin freak", as she threw a pot holder at Rachel's oversized noggin and turned off Foodnetwork in a huff.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
So she replied,
"That's explains things, One Eye has super advanced chicken powers", to the boy elucidating poultry logic to the baffled woman.
So she replied,
"All this stress is causing my goiter to throb and I can't read Craigslist. I'm going home Steve."
So she replied,
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE A FIGHTER!", as she bend to pick up the broken lamp he had just broke with his miss aimed blow.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Commercial Break 09
Looking out the bedroom window.
Northern beaver are extra furry and there is a reason they smell like fish.
I smell fuds
Your not a wolf are you?
Simon says one step closer
Hand fed Bambi
So she replied,
"Take the costume off for once will ya? Be a real nobody and stop trying so hard to be a fake somebody."
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
So she replied,
"Alaska has a monthly living expense allowance? That settles it- I move to Canada and become a citizen. Move back to Minnasota, apply for a small buiesness loan. Charge up a bunch of stuff-move it all up to Alaska and never work another day in my life".
So she replied,
"Lack a Punch!! We'll take the picknick out on the lake and have a boat!" When excited her brain works faster than her mouth.
Monday, March 16, 2009
So she replied,
"No mew you! Momma lurves her sweet sweet baby angle lover sooo much *smooch smooch smooch...", stopping when she saw the movement of the Culigan man who lingered too long.
So she replied,
"I like mad Bob. You should bring him out more often", to the quiet balding man in the back.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
So she replied,
"The only reason you'd take hard drugs is to lose weight? What about the trip?" to her best retarded friend who was skinny to begin with.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
On The Way To Canada
Day three on the expedition to Canada finds my party stranded. The snow covers the windows of the lodge and the tracks we made made an hour ago have disappeared.
The shelter we have has closed for the season, it is just me, my two hearty boys, and the inn keeper, Gale.
Our attempts for sustenance this morn were fruitful, providing us with four rainbow lake trout. But we have no means of cooking our dinner, as the inn keeper, a kind gentle spirit has locked himself in his quarters and the fire in our rooms, gas.
The last ting we supt on was a local dish, Goober Burgers and Moose drool. It has given us the energy to return to our base.
We have one box of Thin Mint girl Scout cookies. Some cocoa. Oh and the pie we could not finished dinner, which is not really a pie but more of a crisp.
Please please sent help soon. We have no TV. No cell phone. Our plans of being Ghost Hunters International is stymied here with the only sighting of abnormal phenomenon is the bar tender over at Gunflint Lodge's tale of the radio that does not always shut off right. No one else around here is talking and spring break may be over by the time we make it to that fort in Thunder Bay with misty solders that walk through walls and the hotel that freaks even it's oldest workers old into the night.
When I find my camera cord I will post pic's of the survivors that do not get eaten or fall along the way.
The shelter we have has closed for the season, it is just me, my two hearty boys, and the inn keeper, Gale.
Our attempts for sustenance this morn were fruitful, providing us with four rainbow lake trout. But we have no means of cooking our dinner, as the inn keeper, a kind gentle spirit has locked himself in his quarters and the fire in our rooms, gas.
The last ting we supt on was a local dish, Goober Burgers and Moose drool. It has given us the energy to return to our base.
We have one box of Thin Mint girl Scout cookies. Some cocoa. Oh and the pie we could not finished dinner, which is not really a pie but more of a crisp.
Please please sent help soon. We have no TV. No cell phone. Our plans of being Ghost Hunters International is stymied here with the only sighting of abnormal phenomenon is the bar tender over at Gunflint Lodge's tale of the radio that does not always shut off right. No one else around here is talking and spring break may be over by the time we make it to that fort in Thunder Bay with misty solders that walk through walls and the hotel that freaks even it's oldest workers old into the night.
When I find my camera cord I will post pic's of the survivors that do not get eaten or fall along the way.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Box of Monsters
June 13, 1974 was my dads 45th birthday. Mom took me to the First National Bank of Graceton that day. She went in uniform, navy pleated skirt, matching sweater set, nylons, and her pointy heeled shoes that left holes in our yard. She also curled her hair and secured it back with a head band, as was the style of the time. She wore the long chain necklace with the turquoise flower dad had bought for her when he had worked construction out the Phoenix. As if the money grandma had left her in the savings account was not enough. The necklace swung as she walked up to the tellers window.
"I'm here to make a withdrawal for my husbands birthday."
She left with an envelope containing $200. without telling me what she was getting him and swore me to secrecy during the twelve mile ride home in our old dusty blue Dodge Polara.
At home I whispered the news to my sister under the willow tree at the edge of our yard where the tall grass ended and the garden started. We wondered what she could buy with all that money. My older sister Debbie who was nine and all practical guessed it was something the whole family could use, like our first color TV with a real antenna in place of a coat hanger, or a shiny car with a heater. I ventured it must be a trip to Mexico because I had recently learned of Mexico in Mrs. Christenson's kindergarten class. "Don't be stupid", Debbie said and punched me good in the arm, because she had known about Mexico for a long time, and thought mom would not take dad to a place they speak funny. I punched her back for calling me stupid then we both decided it had to be a swimming pool to go where the rhubarb had been planted because after all we did not have rhubarb for two years. I was six but I acted like like five and a half so I had to make an oath not to pee in our new pool.
"What should we get dad?", Deb asked as Skipper our heeler and Goldie our tom shared our shade, after we had finished arguing who would do the first cannon ball into the pool. Every Christmas, birthday, or gift giving occasion she would ask me the same question. We both got an allowance. She fifty cents and me a dime for feeding the cow which wasn't at all fair. She did carry the heavy water but I was the one who walked in front of her so the cow would stretch out her neck and lick the salt off my bare legs with her rough tongue as Debbie poured the water into the trough. It was me who, when I remember too, opened the granary door and yelled, "RUN MICE", before Debbie would enter to scoop up Chrystal's dinner oats. I had a lot of plans for my cash. I wanted to save my money to buy Goldie his own cat bed so when I woke up in the morning I would not be twisted into a corner of the bed I shared with the cat and my sister.
"Lets make something" I ventured not wanting to part with my hard earned money and knowing Debbie to be the creative one would end up doing the work.
"But mom got dad something big. We need to get dad a big thing too", Debbie counter acted.
My mat buddy during nap time in Mrs Christansons room, Elaine, told me about the sea monkeys advertised in the back of her Archie comic books. She planned on growing them in shot glasses on her dresser near her bed and would tell me how big they got when we met again in the fall. I would do anything to grow a bigger sea monkey than Elaine. I didn't have a shot glass with to measure, our parents drank their whiskey from burnt orange plastic tumblers marked with imprints of Skippy's pointy teeth.
That was a long way of saying I never had any money to spare. Debbie on the other hand was good at saving and she could make anything.
"Making him something is more better that stuff we could buy at the store", I said trying to imagine what a giant sea monkey would look like and how superior I would feel when I told that Elaine.
"What are you going to make?" Debbie asked me.
I was good at making mud pies, and drawing monsters. I was also good at pouring milk over Graham crackers on a saucer till they got just the right mushy constancy to eat with a spoon. The mud pies always crumbled away into dust. My monster where no big deal. I drew pages of different monsters constantly. I had note books of scary monsters. Volumes of gross ugly monsters. I would sit under our kitchen table and draw funny monster on the chipboard side of the Formica in crayon. I drew monsters for everyone in our family. The pad of monsters I gave dad last winter he said he liked. But I watched dad crumple up page after page of my drawings for kindling in the kitchen wood burner from the crack in my bedroom door on the cold winters mornings as I dressed for school. And only I enjoyed my mush. Probley due to the fact I had no front teeth. I had purposely worried the baby teeth out of my mouth before my permanent ones were ready to grow into their place. The tooth fairy after all paid as much per tooth as a weeks worth of cow licks or yelling at rodents.
"Enh don't know", I answered bitting on a corner of my bottom lip with my side teeth.
So we moved ourselves into our front porch. Goldie the cat lay on the warm window still. Skipper at his post of the top step outside the door. Deb covered the paint spattered table with the Sunday paper and hauled out the trove of craft items from the dime store in town. Mom was all pro arts and crafts, not wanting her daughters to waste all their time idle with our face in a book had invested in our future by providing us the tools to create. Glue, pipe cleaners, water paints left over from school were mixed in with a jumble of potholder weaving loops and a few Popsicle sticks.
"What are you going to make?" I asked my sister who was always claimed charge of the craft supplies. I also hoped she would want me to help. But I knew she would roll her blue eyes at anything made of mud or crackers.
"We should probly each make separate stuff. If can't give dad something big, then we need to make him more things."
I watched my sister try to make our balding dad a toupee out of pipe cleaners only to abandon it when she ran out of brown.
I make myself a snacky snack of sun warmed cracker mush by leaving it in the direct afternoon sunlight. Unfortunately Goldie woke up and helped himself to my saucer as I watched Debbie switch her efforts to making a cover for dads black plastic eye glass frames. I had tried to wash the wielding dust off his eyeglasses and dipped them in the boiling water mom had left on the stove as she cooked potatoes for dinner. Dad was able to bend them when they were still warm back to fit his face again, they just were no longer a solid black color. Some parts were a lighter gray, even whitish. When I looked at dad after that, especially from the side his glasses reminded me of Chrystal's coat.
I knew if I just kept quiet long enough and stayed out of my sisters way, I could add my own special touch to her project after she left it and could claim some credit.
"Make something runt" Debbie ordered me when she realized I wasn't doing anything but petting the mush stealing cat after I had changed my clothes.
I picked up my tablet and reached for my Crayolas. My choice of colors were limited as I disliked the intense purple and the drab green so much I had buried them in mom's flower bed. It was easy to shove their still sharp unused points down into the soft earth around the lillys. My red had melted over Christmas when Mrs Christenson had us push our book bags up against the radiator at school to make room for the tree. Most of the rest of my small box were broken. Yellow and brown were really all I needed, and maybe a blue ink pen to draw a bossy monster with it's hair all sticking up with glue and Popsicle sticks as I watched my sister create over the top of of my pad as I drew.
The arrival of the Montgomery Wards delivery truck backing into our dirt drive was enough to make us drop our crafts forgotton and charge outside.
Then we ran right back inside the house and hid behind the curtains when we remember how shy we were and not knowing if Tom Mosher who ran the catalog outlet store in town was a good guy or not.
After mom paid shady Tom with all the money in her envelope we stood outside squeeling with eyes large in awe of the biggest cardboard box we had ever seen.
A box big enough to hold our pool and a latter. But mom made us wait to open it with it being dads birthday present and all.
When the old yellow Chevy pick up truck pulled into the yard at dinner time we were dancing around the box.
"What my girls got there?"
"Happy birthday" said Debbie and mom who had joined us. "OPEN IT" I yelled not being civilized like a six year old who acted five and a half and was already dressed in a swim suit.
Dad slowly walked around the box, hand rolled cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth he reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife as he figured out how to best open the container without damaging whatever was inside.
Dad cut around the bottom end of the box ever so slowly pulled the box up....
over....
a large...
white....
"FREEZER?"
"It's a freezer?"
"I like this present a lot" dad exclaimed.
I don't ever remember dad saying the word love. Like was as good as it got. I did not love or even like that stinkin freezer. Never did.
But in the fall it would hold the venison and the meat from Chrystal my parents also called venison to keep my sister from crying at the table. I knew it was not deer but would not cry chosing to crawl under the table and visit my happy monsters. Meat was not as big a concern to a girl with limited chewing ability.
Dad did not let me fill the freezer up with our hose and swim in it before he moved it down into our dark scary cellar. Matter of fact that big fancy freezer had a lock and he locked it right up on me while he was trying to find a way to move that heavy thing down the rickety stairs. Nothing in our house had a lock on it. I stood in front of that massive chest staring at the lock right at my eye level, defeated in my bathing suit. We even left the keys in the Dodge.
But dad did let us camp in that big cardboard box. We slept out there in the yard where the pool should have gone for two nights. One the third night it started to rain sometime and we woke up the next morning in our bed, Goldie in his spot right in the middle. The next day our box was soaked through. Not even good enough to draw on.
The last time I was to our old house, Skippy and Goldie were long gone. The cellar didn't terrify me at all. There in a corner under the stairs that freeze did not look quite so big. After searching my parents old farmhouse I found the only set of keys were ever brought into it. The freezer void of all animals, empty except for one old shoe box. Inside were two pictures. One age yellowed crude picture of a toothless monster and one hairless with spotty glasses.
"I'm here to make a withdrawal for my husbands birthday."
She left with an envelope containing $200. without telling me what she was getting him and swore me to secrecy during the twelve mile ride home in our old dusty blue Dodge Polara.
At home I whispered the news to my sister under the willow tree at the edge of our yard where the tall grass ended and the garden started. We wondered what she could buy with all that money. My older sister Debbie who was nine and all practical guessed it was something the whole family could use, like our first color TV with a real antenna in place of a coat hanger, or a shiny car with a heater. I ventured it must be a trip to Mexico because I had recently learned of Mexico in Mrs. Christenson's kindergarten class. "Don't be stupid", Debbie said and punched me good in the arm, because she had known about Mexico for a long time, and thought mom would not take dad to a place they speak funny. I punched her back for calling me stupid then we both decided it had to be a swimming pool to go where the rhubarb had been planted because after all we did not have rhubarb for two years. I was six but I acted like like five and a half so I had to make an oath not to pee in our new pool.
"What should we get dad?", Deb asked as Skipper our heeler and Goldie our tom shared our shade, after we had finished arguing who would do the first cannon ball into the pool. Every Christmas, birthday, or gift giving occasion she would ask me the same question. We both got an allowance. She fifty cents and me a dime for feeding the cow which wasn't at all fair. She did carry the heavy water but I was the one who walked in front of her so the cow would stretch out her neck and lick the salt off my bare legs with her rough tongue as Debbie poured the water into the trough. It was me who, when I remember too, opened the granary door and yelled, "RUN MICE", before Debbie would enter to scoop up Chrystal's dinner oats. I had a lot of plans for my cash. I wanted to save my money to buy Goldie his own cat bed so when I woke up in the morning I would not be twisted into a corner of the bed I shared with the cat and my sister.
"Lets make something" I ventured not wanting to part with my hard earned money and knowing Debbie to be the creative one would end up doing the work.
"But mom got dad something big. We need to get dad a big thing too", Debbie counter acted.
My mat buddy during nap time in Mrs Christansons room, Elaine, told me about the sea monkeys advertised in the back of her Archie comic books. She planned on growing them in shot glasses on her dresser near her bed and would tell me how big they got when we met again in the fall. I would do anything to grow a bigger sea monkey than Elaine. I didn't have a shot glass with to measure, our parents drank their whiskey from burnt orange plastic tumblers marked with imprints of Skippy's pointy teeth.
That was a long way of saying I never had any money to spare. Debbie on the other hand was good at saving and she could make anything.
"Making him something is more better that stuff we could buy at the store", I said trying to imagine what a giant sea monkey would look like and how superior I would feel when I told that Elaine.
"What are you going to make?" Debbie asked me.
I was good at making mud pies, and drawing monsters. I was also good at pouring milk over Graham crackers on a saucer till they got just the right mushy constancy to eat with a spoon. The mud pies always crumbled away into dust. My monster where no big deal. I drew pages of different monsters constantly. I had note books of scary monsters. Volumes of gross ugly monsters. I would sit under our kitchen table and draw funny monster on the chipboard side of the Formica in crayon. I drew monsters for everyone in our family. The pad of monsters I gave dad last winter he said he liked. But I watched dad crumple up page after page of my drawings for kindling in the kitchen wood burner from the crack in my bedroom door on the cold winters mornings as I dressed for school. And only I enjoyed my mush. Probley due to the fact I had no front teeth. I had purposely worried the baby teeth out of my mouth before my permanent ones were ready to grow into their place. The tooth fairy after all paid as much per tooth as a weeks worth of cow licks or yelling at rodents.
"Enh don't know", I answered bitting on a corner of my bottom lip with my side teeth.
So we moved ourselves into our front porch. Goldie the cat lay on the warm window still. Skipper at his post of the top step outside the door. Deb covered the paint spattered table with the Sunday paper and hauled out the trove of craft items from the dime store in town. Mom was all pro arts and crafts, not wanting her daughters to waste all their time idle with our face in a book had invested in our future by providing us the tools to create. Glue, pipe cleaners, water paints left over from school were mixed in with a jumble of potholder weaving loops and a few Popsicle sticks.
"What are you going to make?" I asked my sister who was always claimed charge of the craft supplies. I also hoped she would want me to help. But I knew she would roll her blue eyes at anything made of mud or crackers.
"We should probly each make separate stuff. If can't give dad something big, then we need to make him more things."
I watched my sister try to make our balding dad a toupee out of pipe cleaners only to abandon it when she ran out of brown.
I make myself a snacky snack of sun warmed cracker mush by leaving it in the direct afternoon sunlight. Unfortunately Goldie woke up and helped himself to my saucer as I watched Debbie switch her efforts to making a cover for dads black plastic eye glass frames. I had tried to wash the wielding dust off his eyeglasses and dipped them in the boiling water mom had left on the stove as she cooked potatoes for dinner. Dad was able to bend them when they were still warm back to fit his face again, they just were no longer a solid black color. Some parts were a lighter gray, even whitish. When I looked at dad after that, especially from the side his glasses reminded me of Chrystal's coat.
I knew if I just kept quiet long enough and stayed out of my sisters way, I could add my own special touch to her project after she left it and could claim some credit.
"Make something runt" Debbie ordered me when she realized I wasn't doing anything but petting the mush stealing cat after I had changed my clothes.
I picked up my tablet and reached for my Crayolas. My choice of colors were limited as I disliked the intense purple and the drab green so much I had buried them in mom's flower bed. It was easy to shove their still sharp unused points down into the soft earth around the lillys. My red had melted over Christmas when Mrs Christenson had us push our book bags up against the radiator at school to make room for the tree. Most of the rest of my small box were broken. Yellow and brown were really all I needed, and maybe a blue ink pen to draw a bossy monster with it's hair all sticking up with glue and Popsicle sticks as I watched my sister create over the top of of my pad as I drew.
The arrival of the Montgomery Wards delivery truck backing into our dirt drive was enough to make us drop our crafts forgotton and charge outside.
Then we ran right back inside the house and hid behind the curtains when we remember how shy we were and not knowing if Tom Mosher who ran the catalog outlet store in town was a good guy or not.
After mom paid shady Tom with all the money in her envelope we stood outside squeeling with eyes large in awe of the biggest cardboard box we had ever seen.
A box big enough to hold our pool and a latter. But mom made us wait to open it with it being dads birthday present and all.
When the old yellow Chevy pick up truck pulled into the yard at dinner time we were dancing around the box.
"What my girls got there?"
"Happy birthday" said Debbie and mom who had joined us. "OPEN IT" I yelled not being civilized like a six year old who acted five and a half and was already dressed in a swim suit.
Dad slowly walked around the box, hand rolled cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth he reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife as he figured out how to best open the container without damaging whatever was inside.
Dad cut around the bottom end of the box ever so slowly pulled the box up....
over....
a large...
white....
"FREEZER?"
"It's a freezer?"
"I like this present a lot" dad exclaimed.
I don't ever remember dad saying the word love. Like was as good as it got. I did not love or even like that stinkin freezer. Never did.
But in the fall it would hold the venison and the meat from Chrystal my parents also called venison to keep my sister from crying at the table. I knew it was not deer but would not cry chosing to crawl under the table and visit my happy monsters. Meat was not as big a concern to a girl with limited chewing ability.
Dad did not let me fill the freezer up with our hose and swim in it before he moved it down into our dark scary cellar. Matter of fact that big fancy freezer had a lock and he locked it right up on me while he was trying to find a way to move that heavy thing down the rickety stairs. Nothing in our house had a lock on it. I stood in front of that massive chest staring at the lock right at my eye level, defeated in my bathing suit. We even left the keys in the Dodge.
But dad did let us camp in that big cardboard box. We slept out there in the yard where the pool should have gone for two nights. One the third night it started to rain sometime and we woke up the next morning in our bed, Goldie in his spot right in the middle. The next day our box was soaked through. Not even good enough to draw on.
The last time I was to our old house, Skippy and Goldie were long gone. The cellar didn't terrify me at all. There in a corner under the stairs that freeze did not look quite so big. After searching my parents old farmhouse I found the only set of keys were ever brought into it. The freezer void of all animals, empty except for one old shoe box. Inside were two pictures. One age yellowed crude picture of a toothless monster and one hairless with spotty glasses.
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