Tag Archives: lies

Where do bad folks go when they die?

Still in the future here. Looking good, looking good. Cars don’t fly, but all the highways are underground now. Also, I live in Canada. Did I ever tell you that story about moving to Canada? It was way back in ought-seven, and I sneaked over the border after killing a trucker. I had to survive the first few cold nights inside an elk carcass. I eventually got a job sewing fake Kenneth Cole shoes.

Oh. None of this ever happened, you say? That’s too bad. I always have super vivid dreams, and sometimes I’ll think of some piece of a dream and have to remind myself “Naw, you did not really push that person into a volcano.” It’s a bummer.

These days I have this new thing where I do whatever I want as it occurs to me. It’s going well so far. My wants are few. Today I wanted chocolate chip cookies, so I bought some. I’m also enrolling in off-shore medical school. My experience in the ER proved without a shadow of a doubt that I have the right stuff to be a doctor. Yes, follow my finger. I diagnosed the child in the next room with a case of poor lineage, and I gave myself a skull and crossbones tattoo with Betadine. I also diagnosed several people in the waiting room with obesity.

Sharks are jumpin and the cotton is high

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy sexy! I’ve got Zellweger down in the basement Zellwegering the laundry. She knows her way around the delicates, that girl.

Every day (everyday) I think “Man, this is it, the day I finally eat the whole thing.” But I never do. You know why? Because I am Bartleby. I prefer not to. Also, I am too lazy to walk to the fridge. I wish the ceiling would just rain Captain Morgan and Diet Coke. I could tip my head back like a baby bird.

What do I prefer, you ask? Well, there’s shouting at the help, kicking the pets, and cheating on my spouse. And heavy, heavy drinking. This morning’s plans were spontaneous: I ran someone off the road for the first time in a long while, and that was great. After evading the police, I arrived home just in time to lay a trap for the mailman. I’ve hidden a black widow spider in the box! Now I’m going to have Consuela (my dumbass housekeeper with the stereotypical housekeeper name) throw out all the expired yogurts.

Wee paws for station identification

OMG, Internet, OMG. We’ve been on quite a spree around my place. The clocks are all flashing 11:11 at least twice a day, and the sink isn’t clogged anymore.

We went to my little nephew’s “parade” for Little League opening day. It was pouring rain, and we stood in it while hundreds of children swarmed around the block, led by a police car that occasionally flashed its lights. It was a real zen koan of a parade: Is it still a parade if no one is watching? This didn’t really bother my nephew, because he is a star. He is doing jazz hands in the group photo.

So what the fuck else. I’m learning Mandarin Chinese, and that’s tough. The inflections are a killer. You think I’m kidding, but I’m afraid I’m not. The more plausible something seems, the more likely I made it up. So if I’m telling you I brushed my teeth, I probably didn’t. Bought tickets to Easter Island? You bet!

I was having dinner with some friends the other night, and we were doing “roommate rundown.” I mentioned someone I’d lived with for three years, and idly wondered what happened to her. After dinner, we stopped at a bookstore, and her father stopped me in the Shakespeare aisle and gave me her phone number. Noo noo noo noo, twilight zone. But why is that if I say “I wish I had two billion dollars,” I never run into that in a bookstore?

Then today I think we impulse-bought a loft. We were just out for a walk, and then a little of this and a little of that, and some business cards were exchanged, and things were signed, oh boy. We should not be allowed out without supervision. My lawyer is gonna love this. Oh well.

Then I called to tell my parents about the loft, and somehow I ended up having a conversation with my mother about anal sex. For the record, she’s not that into it, but I suggested that she just didn’t give it a fair shake.

Mornin’ sunshine

Sometimes the paparazzi has a crappy week at work, and you are not wearing pants or makeup, but you say “Hey honey, I’ll hold still, and I promise not to make faces.” This means something else in other relationships. In my particular situation, it means I remain patient for twenty minutes with a flash going off in my face, or not, or maybe we change lenses. Damn people with hobbies and interests, using them as an outlet to relieve stress. That’s not how it’s done! The proper response to stress is to pull a blanket up over one’s head, or lie on the floor, kicking one’s feet in the air like a dying bug.

There are other photos where you can sort of see down my shirt, but I am saving those for when I start internet dating.

I am just kidding, I do not date the internet. I’ve also decided not to drown Mr. H after all. I guess I could have saved myself the cost of plane tickets, as I was planning to drown him in Spain since I’ve never met an elaborate scheme I didn’t like. If it involves passports, all the better. Lambchop asked me for advice the other day, and I came up with a complicated lie that may have necessitated phony blood samples and defrauding the federal government. And me impersonating a doctor. Sensible girl that she is, she opted for the truth. The truth is a coy mistress, or something. I don’t have time for the truth, or makeup, because I am on-the-go, or not getting out of bed before noon on a weekend, or most days, for that matter.

No, I am not such a creature of leisure. I really am on the go. I’m going to Baltimore again for an emergency trash-picking summit, and then I’m not drowning Mr. H in Spain. Does anyone want to watch the cat for me? I need some damn me time, with chilled golden spoons over my eyes.

Ceaseless Self-examination

I am calculating my faults and bad habits, weighing the probability of miraculous transformation-all the things that are promptly forgotten once the champagne has been uncorked. Yes, its time for Lambchop’s New Year’s Resolutions:

1. I resolve to listen to all those Current 93 cds.

2. I resolve to eat at home, umm, sometime.

3. I resolve to resume recreational drug use. (just kidding, Boss!)

4. I resolve to revive the ascot.

5. I resolve to make better paintings.

6. I resolve to be more insane, but less irritating.

7. I resolve to scratch the itch.

8. I resolve to spend less time at the motherf@§$ing doctor’s office.

9. I resolve to Make Life Beautiful!

and most importantly,

10. I resolve to Lie.