Category Archives: Uncategorized

Don’t have a whack attack

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So I got a message from a friend the other day, “hey, I saw you in the street today and it looked like you were mumbling obscenities under your breath…” That’s right, cursing and raving is not just for the homeless and the criminally insane anymore! What can I say I am having a bad couple of days. And I am Irish.

But then I was over at my neighborhhod Hess station and LO! If you buy a drink the size of a cruise missile, you get it in a fancypants Starsky and Hutch cup. I am more excited about the release of this movie than a person ought to be. It’s because it bodes well for the realization of my life long dream:

The Dukes of Hazzard: The Movie

Just think about that for a moment, won’t you?

-xo

I am the Amazing Fucking Kreskin

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Behold, thrill as I pull ZIP codes out of thin air. There is just nothing more satisfying than issuing invitations from a spottily assembled guest list. At first I’d call or email the postally neglected person, but now I’m just making stuff up. It’s for a baby shower, and it’s not like I’M going to get any presents out of it. Now we’re down to the question mark section of the list. I think I’m just going to write “Aunt Broomhilda, Massachusetts” on the envelope and see who shows up.

-xxoo

Domestic Blitz

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I am going to take a moment out of my busy Betty Lunchbucket schedule to tell you how much I hate TV birth shows. Not to mention average Amerikan expectations of birth in general. That should be enough to ensure that most of you stop reading right there. Meow meow meow meow….pushing the limits of Vomitola. First mormon slander, now afterbirth!

As I was busily folding laundry, I flipped to TLC hoping to find someone with bad hair to mock. Instead, a hapless woman was wincing and grunting flat on her back in a hospital bed, pumped up with labor-causing drugs. The doctor came in, inserted an entire arm, and tut-tutted because the woman’s failsafe valve hadn’t managed to open up any further since the last time she was checked, a whole hour before. They’d been at this entire process for about eight hours, since they started the labor induction that morning. So off she went for a c-section! I guess if your child doesn’t fly out of you like a hot buttered football in the first hour, you are just shit out of luck. There was no apparent distress for the baby; it seemed like the doctor just wanted to get the show on the road.

I find my latent hippy dippy side coming out like nobody’s business as I contemplate the terrifying abyss of future parenthood. I’m still not totally sure what I want to do, or when, but I am pretty sure I don’t want “it” as seen on TV. Until recently I always thought I’d want to be drugged out of my gourd if I had the misfortune to whelp anything. That philosophy (of staying drugged out of my gourd) has served me well up until now, so why mess with it? But I remember seeing my mother have my sister, so I know a natural childbirth is possible, with no screaming or flailing even. Of course I flip hurriedly past those photos in the ol’ family album. The first time Mr. H met the parents, we both stared at the first page, puzzled, until I realized what we were observing.

Basically I just don’t like being told what to do. Damn it.

-xxoo

Mormons ‘r’ Us

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Last week I went to lunch with an ex-Mormon, and one of our crew was looking intimidated by the vastness of the sushi buffet. To which I remarked “what’s the matter, you look like Elizabeth Smart at the altar”. We here at Vomitola firmly believe in Lowering the Bar.

Last night I was visiting another friend of mine who is an ex-Mormon. She’s a rocker, and is going to feature in my next one-hit-wonder, the Mormon 5. Just call me Mary Ellen, crooning about ironing my pinafore and contemplating my dirty pillows. But Motown.

Cripes its 2pm and I am still not dressed. Maybe because my roommate has hosted a party that has been going ’round the clock for two days. I am going to go out and get a hot dog. Thanks for Caring and Sharing!

-xo

Extrem-Relax

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I am taking my cue from a skilled eurotrash impersonator of my acquaintance and prefacing everything with “Extrem.” I also like to say “Super-Cool” (pronounced SoooPAIR) and “Giga-Cool.”

The new Air cd, Talkie Walkie, is indeed Super-Cool. Extrem-Sexy. I can’t stop listening to it. It works for making out, for drinking wine, for driving, for staring out the window, for ironing, you name it. It makes me turn up the collar of my jean jacket and muss Mr. H’s hair.

I also bought Hai! by The Creatures, and ees giving me Super-Mega-Goth flashback. I am this close to cutting really short bangs and buying tons of used clothing again. I find myself missing the days of velvet blazers and poppy red hair streaks, of tattered prom dresses and stripper heels. That and hearing “I Dig You” in that Monster.com ad. I must admit that my knowledge of the Cure’s catalog and side projects is shockingly extensive. I’m also going through old CDs and sighing, “Alien Sex Fiend, AWWWWW!”

Aw, screw it, I don’t have a job! I can have interesting hair yet again! Where’s the Manic Panic?

-xxoo

Back in the Saddle

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My Dear Troubled Readers,

It has been a grueling couple of months of self-denial at the Betty Ford. They would not let me smoke in the hot tub, and my massages with Nils did not include Happy End! But even though it was my own soul that lay troubled in a bed lacking Egyptian cotton, you people still had problems of your own. How selfish! Especially you unattractive lot- you are rather tempting fate to begin with by having concerns. (I will never forget the day I realized that ugly people have lives, too, I nearly fell in the shower!) In any case, I have returned to my manse and my refrigerator filled with champagne and I shall right your sorry, sordid worlds once more.

Dear Kitty Winn,

I did the unpardonable, the unthinkable, and have been swiftly punished. I read my girlfriend’s diary. And I found out she had not only cheated on me, but it seems she only decided to be with me when things did not work out elsewhere. Of course, this was all years ago, and we had what seems a happy and committed relationship since then. I confronted her and she lied through her pretty little teeth, even when she heard her own words quoted (unbeknownst to her). The bitter lesson for me here is that there must be skeletons like this within every coupling. That we end up together just as much by happenstance as driven by specific desire. My girlfriend is not a bad person, and she didn’t really do anything terrible, that’s just the way people are. The curtain has been lifted and I can no longer believe that there is anything magical about love.

-filled with inertia

Dear Inertia,

My, my, you are quite the philosopher! So, you are disheartened by the inconstancy of the human character? How on earth did you make it this long?! Well, well, we no longer feel special. You are just going to have to bear this one. Human beings are fickle and cruel, but they also have soft lips and will cook you a nice meal. You should have been enjoying what you had. Have a chocolate, and next time you collide into another woman’s life like a traffic accident, stay out of her private thoughts. And her underwear drawer.

-Kitty Winn

Internet, I’m soaking in it

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Well, we’re all moved in. Apparently my mother mistakenly spread the rumor that we purchased a condo, so relatives are emailing to congratulate us. When in Rome, right?

Effective immediately, I am changing my blog name to ClamShandy. I don’t know, it just sounds filthy. Also, I’ll be guest-blogging at my sister’s blog for the next *unspecified period of time*. She’s in some medical study on the heartbreak of colitis, or possibly hair don’ts. Then I’m trying to entice her to the great northerly east, where she will see that you can bilk people out of vast amounts of money per hour for making food dance on the internet.

-xxoo

Happy Groundhog Day Again!

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The big move is tomorrow. We are wildly unprepared, but that’s the beauty of having movers. If only they’d stay and clean up after us too. Part of me is tempted to just abandon the stuff in storage and live like wolves. We’ll burrow, we’ll chase things, we’ll roll in dead stuff. It’ll be great. Who needs furniture when you have wall-to-wall carpeting?

-xxoo

GO SPORTS

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Like most of you I was watching The Game last night. And since I live in Boston, medicine this entailed shrieking and touchdown breakdancing. After spraying our living room with champagne (typically, sovaldi sale I caught it in the face), tadalafil we took to the streets for the scheduled RIOT. It was tame compared to the last time, but we had fun trying to make the crowd chant “Morrissey” and “Equine Internet Porn”. So pardon me if I am, umm, hoarse today.

Oh the laughs just never stop. Especially when the fire department hosed us.

In other news, there is a hot new band in your midst. We are Glamazon, Gdget, and Chickie Baby. We are Le Chevron. And our new single, Electrolyte, will be available as soon as we have made enough shrimp skewers for the release party.

-xo

Movin’ on up

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This morning Mr. H and I signed the lease to our new place. Our very nice landlord, who looks like Moby, handed over the keys even before the check cleared. Now that’s small town livin’.

The place looks like this:

We have the second floor. The turret room is for the cat, or visiting crazy relatives. I could go on and on, but the kitchen is uncarpeted, and that’s good enough for me. Party invites to go out as soon as we rescue our stuff from storage!

-xxoo