All posts by Licketysplit

Bum bum ba bum

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Oh, boddyyy…why do you not wish to discuss your bottom? Are you feeling SHY? You??? I love to discuss my bottom. It’s a very important asset! A great giant asset. I mean a sleek, supple asset. I do not want to give our readers the wrong idea! You will vouch for my bottom won’t you? And yes, cock, we should talk about that too. When we do there is always trouble. Elbow-patched English majors in wire framed glasses look askance! Or people just assume we are common prostitutes.

I was driving home the other day (ok, my boo was driving me), and we passed a sign that read “HC” in big green letters. And then under that “24 hours.” So we were trying to think of what HC could mean? Hard Cock… 24 hours of hard cock? A non-flaccid zone. Violators will be ticketed! We weren’t even in the Fens! Speaking of the Fens, I just spent today helping my post-ironic pal move to a 4th floor walkup in the Fenway! eeeeee. I won’t be able to move tomorrow after bearing that heavy load (heh heh I said load). If I manage to get some HC today as well, that could compound the situation.

Ah well, I am exhausted…I must go make myself a shandy and retire to the veranda. Who am I kidding, I won’t make it myself. That’s what boos are for!

xxoo

Dawn Wiener

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This article is promenading me down memory lane: Fifth-graders accused of poisoning attempt

Ah, the grand tradition of attempted murder. I myself have only tried to kill 3 people. All were unsuccessful, although my sister still has a pretty good scar. Well, I guess that could be downgraded to “almost killed by accident.” But the other two, oh man. There was one roommate who shall remain nameless…the other roomie and I used to take her perishable food out of the fridge and leave it on top of the dishwasher to warm up ever so slightly. She must have wondered why we had our own jar of mayonaise marked with our names. That didn’t seem to work, so we took to dredging her toothbrush in the commode from time to time. Surely we never rose to the heights of this young gentleman, but we gave it the old college try, so to speak.

Lesson learned: if your roommate keeps his or her own toothbrush in a lockbox, so should you.

xxoo

Shakes the clown

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So I’m listening to “Shakes” by Tones on Tail…perfectly appropriate since I’m riding the wave of a serious sugar freak out. It’s like Lambchop selected it for me! She’s my personal DJ…anticipating the various churnings of my digestive tract. Oh, my tract! Say, bodddyy, what is appropriate music for when we ice skate? Immediately I think of that circus song…you know the one…”doot doot doo doo doodly doo doo…” Now promise me that I can eat a canape or two at the opening, I swear I can keep it down this time! You will not need to play “The Choke” for meee, not this time! Although you must also not spin so fast when we dance… it can be a bit unsettling.

xxoo

Muffiny Muffins

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Today it was my turn to bring breakfast to my meeting, cialis and I knocked everyone out with a one-two punch of frosting and cake, masquerading as muffins! Oh how I love muffins. The real star of the show would have to be the Boston Kreme muffin, which is frosted with chocolate and filled with a “kreme-y” substance. Gaze upon the magic at The Gingerbread Construction Company. I know this may some mundane compared to other descriptions of two-headed hijinks that I could be posting, but they really are a sweet treat! Meant to be savored and squished betwixt the toes!

xxoo

Want to see what I look like with wheels?

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So my boo’s crazy uncle is the master of baffling communication. He likes to pretend to be someone else. Recently he sent this to the family email list, including his own real email address:

From: “Burt Davis” (not his name!)

Date: Thu, 16 Jan 2003 11:46:33 -0500

To:

Subject: Hi everyone It’s Burt!!!!

Hi! I am writing from the Cruise Ship Sauffley in the Indian Ocean. What a great crew. Every night, right after dinner, we have life boat drills and life vest drills. We have met some great people during these drills.

Some people we met at dinner, were Bob and Samantha. They were married the Saturday before we left. Although Samantha is not my type, she got Burt laughing so hard when she was blowing raspberries on his belly.Bob is about 30 and he works in San Francisco as a salesman. Samantha works as a model.

Captain Rochette has been very informative. He says that we are going past the Cape of Good Hope tonight. We will be in South Africa this evening and Mr Mandela will be our guest on board. I hear he has some stories about the old times, and you know how much of a history buff I am.

Next week, the guest of honor is someone named Khadafi. Henrietta thinks he is sexy and mysterious under that turban. I just think of that guy in Harry Potter who unwraps his turban and there is a face that talks!!! Yuch! Can you imagine eating and having that guy unwrap a face!!! Not me. Henrietta can go alone. I’ll watch Samantha blow raspberries on Hollingsworth.

The weather hasn’t been bad, except for that day of rough seas. We had hit some typhoon or such and a few people got blown overboard. They have not been found yet, but it is assumed they swam toward those islands we saw the day before. While I was walking along in the bulkhead, I saw the room that they had. It was huge and spacious so, knowing they wouldn’t need it anymore, I asked the Steward if I could get the cabin. After paying the upgrade, both Henrietta and I feel it was well worth the price.

Hollingsworth has his own bed, and it is a relief for us.

Well, thats it until next week. I’ll send some more photos next time, and god bless.

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So, I decided to out Uncle him:

From: “Mimsy Varden”

Date: Thu, 16 Jan 2003 4:21:15 -0500

To:

Subject: Mimsy’s Baaack!

Burt!

Mimsy Varden here, I used to be Mimsy Van Der Ploo? I know we haven’t been properly introduced, but perhaps Henrietta has spoken of me? Hopefully she didn’t say anything that bad, ho ho! Anyhoo, I am so glad I’ve tracked down the elusive Davis family… A friend just mentioned the lovely letter they got about your latest cruise and I thought to myself “Can it be? Henrietta! It’s been years.” So if you can put Henrietta on the computer to read on from here, I’d be much obliged. Kisses, -mim

Henrietta, darling, it’s been far too long! This is such a stroke of luck. What a small world really. You see, I’ve been moving around quite a bit in these last few years. I’m sure you heard about Armand’s accident through the usual grapevine. I just couldn’t face the world for months after that. So off I went, one bag and a heavy heart. I stayed in Switzerland at first, in and out of various spas. It really got terrible boring. You can’t imagine the American Nouveau Riche and how they dominate a dinner conversation. I do not understand to this day what is a “dotcom.” Is that like a kibbutz? Such a long way from our simple days at school!

I’ve thought of our friendship frequently. I tried to send a postcard from Peru, but I wasn’t sure if the address was right. Did you get one of Lake Titicaca? No matter, I’m sure it was nothing but dribble…I was having quite a time with the pills. From there it was off to Tanzania, where I met the most wonderful guide while I was on a safari. He’s my idea of big game! Yes, I’m still a naughty lass, Henrietta. But I didn’t let him get away, I married him! He wanted to stay in Africa, but I really don’t trust the natives, even though they seem a beautiful people. Now we’re back in New York, just trying to get the renovations on the apartment wrapped up. The one bright spot in Armand’s whole ordeal was the settlement from the petroleum company.

But enough of my trials. I did receive the adorable photos of Hollingsworth in a Christmas card, what, 2 years ago now? They were luckily forwarded to my deposit box in Paris. How is he progressing? I hear they can do wonders in those special schools these days. Ah Henrietta, do write me back! We have so much to catch up on. Missing your wedding left me feeling like such a heel. I owe you one or five, old girl!

All my love – mim

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Ooh, I hope Henrietta writes back! It’s so nice to have a loon in the family. Lambchop said it reminded her of a genial T. Herman Zweibel, and I’d have to agree. I hope Mimsy connotes enough of a gin-soaked fading harlot?

xxoo