Tag Archives: rubbernecking

What a damn thing to say

This meme is going around like something you catch at the bus station: post the first sentence of each entry for the past twelve months. I’m also posting the subject lines because I am nothing without a support act.

And away we go!

1. A day late and a dollar short: 2005 by the numbers
Number of separate calendar days where vomiting occurred: 4

2. Everything’s OK in OKville
Goodbye January, goodbye Content Challenge, goodbye Supreme Court (It’s the, stupid).

3. I’m into something good (leftover spaghetti)
Madge, I’m soaking in it.

4. More human every day
We have a table!

5. And in our hearts we fly. Standby.
It started with other people drinking before the sun was over the yardarm.

6. Can I get some unnecessary antibiotics with that condescension?
The other day I made the big, huge, giant mistake of calling my parents to let them know we moved back into our house after a soggy two-week vacation in crapsville.

7. No sleep til Brooklyn
It’s amazing how somone under 7 pounds can make two adults with a combined 61 years of life experience feel totally incompetent at times.

8. Hey, wanna buy a monkey?
No? How about a baby?

9. Fiesta de Septiembre
Today is the third anniversary of my legal ensnarement of Mr. H

10. Condo meeting attended; area jerk spotted
Mr. H went to the meeting while I stayed home to ply a baby with strong drink, and when he returned, I asked after the lady who picks fights on the email list and then declares that the list is not a good forum for discussion when people disagree with her.

11. This year, I am thankful that Pharrell gave us something to bump to
Pharrell is like the Great Pumpkin, I think.

12. The continuing perils of instant gratification
Now there comes a time when one finds a leaflet for a new Chinese restaurant in one’s lobby, and one decides to carpe some diem and take a chance on life.

And in other news, this morning a ybab and I watched a three-legged dog poop on the lawn. It’s beginning to look a lot like Thursday.

Don’t mess with Texas

Day One: I headed out of New Orleans fueled by a last stop at the Drive-Thru Daquiri. Drive-Thru Daquiri! After preparing thusly for the long drive to LA, buy cialis we set off through the bayou, and stopping in St. Martinville, recipe heart of Cajun country. We are talking giant elms and lazy. lily pad covered currents and air as thick as honey. Then we took a ferry over the Gulf of Mexico, landing in Galveston, Texas. It was dark and hot and wet. The seagulls flew in low as I stood on the bow, getting sprayed with saltwater. Texas was this endlessly huge dark thing up ahead. I never felt so small.

The sprawl of Houston seemed interminable, but we finally hit the central part and stopped there. The people in this restaurant were crazily friendly. We ate pie and watched some Cheers re-runs they were playing off a DVD. So there I was chewing on raw texas beef, a thousand miles from Boston and, well, you know.

Houston was pretty beat, so we did a long burn all the way to Austin.

Day Two: We stayed at a Motel 6, standing over the balcony in the broiling midday looking out over a sad and dingy pool where a man was frying himself to a bacony consistency. I spent the day milling around downtown and at sundown saw the great exodus of bats from beneath the bridge. It was an unreal swarm. Then we looked around the strip at the University of Texas Austin. I saw the Whitman tower and walked the plaza where those folks were mowed down by the be-tumored sniper. We searched in vain along the downtown strip for a rockabilly show, but hell, it was monday night, so we settled for a yummy Austin beer in a bar that was kinda punk until this wretched second band took the stage in which some fat guy screeched about sodomizing us, to its tuneless cacophany of muffled guitar and a ululating backup singer.

-xo from the road

Auf Wiedersehen

Lambchop is all over the map. I spent this weekend on an island in the Baltic Sea called Usedom. 40km of fine white sand and charming coastal towns and shacks that sell smoked fish stuck in some bread. To die for! Not to die for, was that naked east germany was there- the ugly half. Which really took me out of the mood for swimming. I was too afraid of bumping into some shriveled jolly grandfather cock while doing a backstroke. Instead, I waded and took lovely long walks and just enjoyed the hot sand beneath my feet. I also got to fly over the island in an aeroplane- you know the kind that look like a Cessna but are light enough to push into the garage? Oh, it was simply gorgeous.

This week finds me at the end of heading ’em up and movin’ ’em out! I depart for Boston on Friday the 13th. With enough luggage to shame Marlene Dietrich. Welcome me softly my pretties, I shall be happy to see you.


Better off dead


This week is not going so hot.

But on to a much more cheerful topic than workaday doings: death!

On Monday I went to a wake for someone I didn’t even know (extended extended family of Mr. H). I had to fake Catholic or risk looking like some kind of disrespectful jerk. I come from a family that never even attempted any religious affiliation. I was never baptized, and Christmas was distilled to the purest form of commerce. Presents were half-heartedly wrapped in non-Christmas paper, stacked on the couch, and marked with a note that read “from ‘Santa.'” Luckily I went to an Episcopal high school, so at least I know most of the words to all the top 5 prayers.

So I crossed to the left, I crossed to the right, I bobbed, weaved, mouthed a Hail Mary here and there. I got blessed by Officer Nightstick, er, Father Buzz Cut. This guy was right out of a Tom of Finland illo, verrrry studly. When in Rome, right?

The most awkward part was the kneeler at the casket. I’d made it through the grieving receiving line, trying to be as supportive as could be given that I’d never met the ol’ gal. So there I was, next to Mr. H, with an actual dead person right at eye level. I am not particularly upset by death, but I did note that if I am ever to be displayed in death, I would like to make sure my nails are painted. Preferably She-dragon red. It’s just like women and sunscreen: they always forget to do the hands.

“What are you supposed to do up there?” I asked him later.

“Oh, I usually just say an Our Father to get the timing right.” So there you have it.

I have decided that my own coffin will be lined with white fun fur and equipped with a sun lamp in the roof, and I will be sporting a bikini. Lambchop said, “I want an open-toe casket!” So even in final repose, we mustn’t neglect our pedicure. Tropical drinks will be served. Nothing like a little Harry Belafonte to lighten the mood. Coconut shrimp on skewers, bacon wrapped scallops. Mm-mm. Everyone must compliment their neighbor’s attire and say one nice thing about me.

“She always flossed.”

“She could rip out checks without tearing them.”

“She really liked cheese.”

Thus shall be my legacy, thus it is written.


Thel’ About Town

thelma haney

Last week was March Madness here in Epsom Square. This year’s theme was “Diversity” so they had booths for ethnic foods like burritos, falafels and even Jumbalaya. I usually bake a marble cake or chocolate chip cookies but Flora and I decided even with chocolate swirls it wasn’t very ethnic. I did find a nice lamp at the antiques table though. It has a shepherdess sitting at the base with a lamb, listening while a shepherd plays to her with his miniature guitar. I go for the old fashioned stuff. I also bought my son a tie from Hypno-ties with an American flag on it. Come to find it has little skulls on it instead of stars. I didn’t want to make a fuss on such a fine day, so I just dropped it in the clothes drive box on the way home. People who can’t even afford ties probably won’t mind.

Yesterday brought some bad news. My daughter Jessica- she is studying to be a nutritionist over at the Epsom County Community College, called and she said something about McDonalds “losing it’s market share”. Apparently the young people are going to the coffee joints instead, which I don’t understand. They charge three dollars for a cup of coffee and if you want a roll they want another two dollars and it doesn’t even have raisins in it! That’s a darn shame about McDonalds. I think they should bring back the Lobster Sandwich. I must have had ten of those a day when they came out, must have been the summer of ’92. I know because I had the corns real bad that summer and I used to sit with my feet in a bucket of salts.

It’s a good time for that great taste!

God Bless,

Thelma Haney

Ahh, weddings!

So what if you have to arrange for hundreds of people to have an irksome time, all the while dressed like a cake decoration? Check dignity at the door and force all of your acquaintance to form a Conga line! Anyway, you will be so dizzy and pitter patter with loveliciousness, that you won’t notice any of it. I, on the other hand, as your Lambchop of honor, have to wobble around in something deliberately calculated to be more hideous than that froth you are coated in, and in front of a date. Must I do the Achey Breaky in front of someone I hope wants to sleep with me?! Can’t we just take some acid on a beach, anoint your two precious heads with oil and call it a day?

No? Didn’t think so. Well, I hope you go for something with a bustle!

Speaking of bustle, I am having another entirely uneventful day. Although, when i tried to coax some cash out of the ATM, i could swear I heard tinkly laughter before it thrust my card back at me. Oh I also finished my newest painting. Its about strange friendship. Lets be other people, eh clyde? Maybe my next picture will include a figure in a white veil. With a flesh colored eyepatch- a waxen faced cyclopean bride!


tap tap tap

This is what my friend had to say after a rousing round of Pop You in the Pooper- “HOLY JESUS CHRIST MOTHERFUCKING COWSHIT”

that pretty much sums it up from my end. ha ha. end.

after my near brush with greatness, search the world seems so grey and lifeless. oh wait, ed i live in berlin and the world is grey and lifeless. thankfully, there is cheese and lots of it. so i am going to find something to melt some onto. sausage, toast, a pen cap, whatever.

“…pop you in the pooper buddy dee dee dee…”


Deep Impact(ion)

So I awoke this morning and checked all the porn in my hotmail, and then when I logged out, I see a story beckoning to me from the MSN idiot portal. “Swelling star threatens world, providing preview of what awaits Earth.” First I thought it was going to be about Jennifer Lopez and/or Ben Affleck, and I just can’t get enough of those two. Then once I figured out it was all about Science, I was genuinely alarmed and proceeded to skim it with as much attention as I can muster after half a cup of coffee. I was prepared to get all excited and order a wet suit and gas mask, but then it turns out the Earth won’t fry for another few billion years. They snuck that tidbit in at the very end. Ho hum.

But I may be a day late and a dollar short with the gask mask anyway, as I see I’ve missed the Miss Gothic Massachusetts pageant! Oh calamity, oh cruel serendipity. Oh misery that the photos of the “winners” aren’t published yet. But! Do not depair, gentle reader. We are proud to announce that Vomitola will be providing in-depth team coverage of the event via special correspondent Mary Jane RottenCrotch (as soon as she is found, we are checking interstate rest stop bathrooms now). Oh wait, Lambchop is passing a slip of paper across the news desk…it seems she has been located, and she’s just in the middle of a streaming web cast about the hardship of taking her corset collection to the dry cleaner. Phew. Well, when she’s free we’ll try to extract all pertinent info!

Oh, and last but not least, we’d be doing a real disservice if we didn’t provide a whizz-bang Golden Globes wrap-up. Sorry about that.


Those kooky asians!

When you are done with la femme flatulence, it will please you to know that Kikkoman has tired of Japan! (and he’s stacked!)

Last month Lickety made me look at fetish videos involving girls with butter dripping from their chins letting insects crawl into their mouths and swallowing them. Something about all those legs, i guess.


For my supper, I am off to gum some noodles. Can we do anything today that won’t receive an XXX rating from someone, somewhere?