All posts by Licketysplit

Hello, I’ll be bribing you today

Someone is coming to appraise my Indian burial ground, and I have left a casual, shabby chic vintage suitcase filled with non-sequential bills by the front door, on an adorable antique stool draped with a lace doily made by nuns. I also made such concessions as putting on pants and boiling a pot of cinnamon water on the stove so it smells like I cook.

Not much is new other than my ethical violations. Luckily, I have a flunky who will go to trial for me. Everyone should have a good patsy. I am naming my next dog Scooter Libby, which is disarmingly perky.

Things are things, and this is not Darfur, and I am not an Austin Powers impersonator. Life is grand! There is a shopping channel just for rehab. It’s sort of like SkyMall.

Slow and low

I just spent the weekend on my knees, and boy are my arms tired! Finish what needs to be finished, says Mercury, and I say well mayhap the floor was not scrubbed since the last Mercury retrogade yes OK. Haha, not what you thought. Not at all.

The light on the ice floe outside is blinding. SRSLY.

It is time for the collecting of thoughts and the airing of grievances, which can only mean I am about to test out my exorbitant new co-pay and go back to the shrink. I want goals! I want to leave myself Post-Its saying “no being a shit.” I want to tell other people “No being a victim.” And “Genealogy will save us all. Can I also interest you in something even more tedious, like scrapbooking?” I found out my last name was originally spelled with a lot more vowels and diacritical marks. Who’s critical? Not me.

A day and another day and the day before

I have about six drafts saved in here. Maybe you would have preferred to read “Take the Krugerrand and run.” But you won’t read that one. The subject was the best part anyway.

I am up to no good. Others were up to no good first, but I can’t change the situation, only how I Lord grant me the serenity, Britney. You can’t go home again, Britney. Especially when home is infested with menacing dust particles. Ask the dust. Ask away. The dust will tell you all about the Federal Reserve.

Today I had a green soda. I never have soda. But it looked so convincing in the case. It purported to be lime soda on the English label, but it was something else entirely. Battle kitty had a single black bean and part of a napkin. It was nice to walk in the sun.

My girl is the queen of the savages

I bought a lovely pair of ballet flats in early 2005 and promptly ruined them two months later. When we toured the construction progress on our Indian Burial Ground, the ground was a bit marshy, and one shoe got sucked entirely off my foot. Foolish me, thinking a hard hat paired well with kicky flats. Where are Stacy and Clinton when I dress myself each day? They might have put the kibosh on the three shirts plus Nanook boots and rubber gloves joint from the other day. What can I say? I am always cold.

I found out that I have a vata problem. I used to be a nice corn-fed pitta with the moon eyes of a kapha, but now I am cold and crackly and speedy and have trouble falling asleep. I forget as quickly as I learn. And don’t get me started on how hard it is to be an Alpha. At least I am not infested with imaginary bugs, like my poor father.

Losing my slipper was only fitting though, since sucking and my real estate forays go hand-in-hand, hoof-and-mouth. I tried to sponge the mud off, but it didn’t really work. So I left the shoes in the back of my closet for two years. Duh.

Yesterday, I cleaned and polished them, and whaddya know, instant Spring! I also added up all our debt before I did this. All of it. I wrote it on a big piece of paper and stuck it on the fridge. Shame works wonders. I love to be shamed, don’t you? I’m your secretary. In summation, we owe every cent we take in before the end of the year to that piece of paper on the fridge. No, I can’t have new shoes. I am putting tiny human diminutive former primate to work on making me some, though. She is handy with an awl. She climbs the couch like a little ape and hangs upside down from my chest. One day I will give her power of attorney, and she will have to make decisions about my welfare. Until then, we Make Do and Improve.

Sexy back

Well, I am totes in rehab now. You want to know another reason I should be in rehab? The last two times we’ve had sushi, we accidentally dressed the wee uni in a kimono top that day. So insensitive! Actually, Mr. H did that. He ought to be in rehab, not me. But tell that to Oprah. She made me cry, and I promised to go, so here we are.

They issued me a do-rag and these:

And put me to work cleaning the bathroom:

I am all blurry because I am in rehab. Rehab goggles make substance abusers look like even better life partners.

It was a bad day to get bathroom duty. Lindsay Lohan is doing a cleanse. And so we found this in the loo:

I have to go lie down.

In a minute there is time

I assure you it is hard being so ridiculously attractive, a regular genetic freak. If not for some quirk of face and international media, my perfect haunches and I would still be squatting on my ancestral goat farm in Brazil. But man, accidentally attend one beach volleyball tournament, and next thing you know, you have to date actors. Whatever works, I guess.

But I am tired of all the public scrutiny. Yesterday, I did not say “all white people look alike,” but the innernets are upon me with slings and arrows, and now I have to go to freaking rehab. Rehab! I can’t help it if all white people look alike, now can I? Some of my best friends are white! So I will get back to you lates. I really hope Keith Urban and Britney don’t snore. Did I ever tell you about the time I was in rehab with Robert Downey, Jr.? I let the air out of a judge’s tires on the wrong day, I guess. But anyway, blessing in disguise. You would not believe what I can do now with tinfoil and a Bic razor and some mouthwash.

Year of the boor

Well, doggies, innernet! I best not leave you for another week without a post. That is mighty inhospitable. If things ever grind to a halt without my presence, I trust you will lean hard against the wind and steer the prow of your browser to double u double u double u dot wikipedia dot org and view my very favorite entry: Fallacy. Seriously, you could stay there all day! Then this is my second favorite entry, the red herring. If only they’d had Wikipedia ten or fifteen years ago. I wouldn’t have bothered with college. If they’d had IMDB, that might have been nice too. Just the other day, I had to make sure that Henry Ian Cusick is not the same person as James Callis. I am confused by hairstyles. Also, all white people look alike. Also, I can’t find my glasses.

What else is new? Well, I made a vegan chocolate cake to celebrate ybab’s eight month birthday (for me, not her). I even did that Martha Stewart business where one protects the pedestal of the cake stand with parchment paper while I shellacked it with icing. It looked beautiful! But it tasted like ass (the answer is yes, and you’ve tasted it too, I’ll warrant, so stop with the Happy Gilmore line of questioning). A ybab was returned early, and I overcooked the cake part. Oops. A ybab can stand up and walk around the room while holding the finger of a responsible adult (i.e. not me). This is terrifying.

St. Vomitola so loved the world

Now, in years past, I’ve had more time to revel in all the spectacular February holidays. Time to bring you such amazing seasonal designs such as this. February is like soaking in a bowl of paraffin, is it not? One emerges fresh and renewed. Or something. I didn’t even manage a Groundhog’s Day salute this year.

But today, Mr. H is home for a snow day, and we are all slowly eating each other. A ybab is yelling at me, and Scatman Crothers had a snowcat accident on the way to save us. So in great haste, I bring you the simplest tidings of the day, in a form you morons can understand.

Ri rove roo!

February showers bring unpleasant trips to the parking lot

We still have no hot water, medical which the management company scribe keeps referring to as Hot Water. Without fail, sick this causes me to free associate to Hot Chocolate, which means I have to sing “I Believe in Miracles.” The same managing individual, continues the bizarre habit of placing commas between noun/verb pairs in every sentence. This malady, is catching.

Later today, Hot Water, was briefly restored, and then the pipes, exploded, raining Hot Water into the hallway next to my door. The fire alarms, went off when the pressure, dropped, which caused a ybab to imitate the sound in solidarity. I, trussed her up in a blanket and stuck one leg, in a snowsuit, and we mingled in the parking lot with all the dogs in the building. Five fire engines came, which caused a ybab to join the dogs in howling.

Had this been a real emergency, well, I forgot the poor cat. Luckily, she can, swim.

Sick, sick, sick

From the management team: “Correction: The Hot Water shut down, only effects the River Building.”

Oh, I’ll give you a correction! Let me get out my red electrons.

A ybab just finished a whirlwind installation of four teeth. She looks like a little hobo. Today she tested well with the urban demographic. “Dayum, you got a ybab in there!” No, I am not just amazingly obese. There is a ybab under my coat. Where do you keep your spare?