July 31st, 2008 | 17 Comments »

I was fortunate while I was on the Rock to meet up with the brother of an old friend of mine. The old friend is the server guy who hosts my website. The brother made sure that I found some good food to eat while there, did a wee bit of sightseeing, and of course, got Screeched In.

I asked my friend’s brother what his blog name should be and he was happy to reveal that he already had a pseudonym for the Hash House Harriers. That’s a club for drinkers who have a running problem. I KNOW! Just what I thought!

Since it’s a worldwide organization, the name will often acknowledge the region you hail from. Thus, my friend’s brother is known as Take it up the Eh? (Eh? being a Canadian saying.)

Eh? had a red silk dress made for him especially for the famed Red Dress Run while hashing in Thailand, and I loved this image of him in his lovely dress with red bows in his beard.

As an added bonus, I give you the get-up for the Lingerie Run, which turns out is quite a hit with the Harriers. He appears to have quite a buzz on in the picture. I suspect that is true, since he looked at me with both eyes when he accompanied me. His baby beard is now a full-grown goatee, which he tells me intrigues his gay friends. Seems that mens always want to see if the drapes and rugs really do match.

Take it up the eh? (who, by the way, Knudsey, is not ghey) would have been delighted to transport me to the other side of the rock (nearly 1,000 km) but it turns out he had a run in D.C. the next day. He assured me, however, that he is very compliant, and not at all a Pee Warden.

He’s a very obliging sort. A little bit goofy. A whole lot smart. Just like most of my friends are. And aren’t you glad that I educate you about these sorts of things?

Posted in crazy friends
July 22nd, 2008 | 16 Comments »

First crack at internet access that hasn’t been entirely consumed by uploading sound files. So I have a true story for you.

My folks come from an island in the Bay of Fundy. Island folk are rather insular, sometimes even xenophobic, and they have their ways.

Some of them are quite the characters, colourful like you don’t see everyday for sure.

One of these was Poopy Small. My uncle told me how Poopy got his nickname. I’ll leave those schoolyard details to your imagination, but it stuck even after he was all grown up and a grandfather to boot.

One time when Poopy was not feeling entirely like his nickname if you get my drift, he was so uncomfortable that he visited the crusty old island doctor for relief.

The doc told Poopy to take some suppositories and come back in a week.

Doc: How’d those suppositories work for you, Poopy?

Poopy: (whiny old man voice)You know doc for all the good they did me, I might just as well have stuck them up me arse.

July 14th, 2008 | 20 Comments »

I’ve been home for a week, hence the posting, but tomorrow, I set off for parts relatively unknown for two weeks.

So, intermittent, hit and miss posting for the next few weeks. Subscribe in a reader. It will save you the trouble of stopping by to see nothing going on.

Some of you are all kinds of psyched about your own trips to BlogHer in SF, which is wicked.

Blackbird is holding BlogHere, at her house. No, I’m not attending that either. I have to work. On the psychic tour.

I expect to be keeping a watchful eye out for moose on the highway. The highway which is foggy. Must be all the swampy moose habitat which lines the road to my venue that creates all the fog.

I was a nervous wreck last time. Those critters are huge. And? They will charge a car, and I’m not talking credit cards here. A car that collides with a moose will hit it about knee level, and the moose will fall forward into the windshield, thrashing its antlers about inside the vehicle in its death throes. People seldom survive these collisions. At least this time, I’m not the driver. I’ve never been so happy to be in the back seat since high school.

Keep my seat warm for me when I’m away?

Posted in doing bidness
July 11th, 2008 | 21 Comments »

My first puppy love boyfriend (as opposed to having a boyfriend just for the sake of it) used to tell stories to entertain me.

He had some crazy friends. Horny McSlutty and his sidekick, Stoopid, were visiting a fellow who had a small blacksmithing operation going on in his yard.

They watched the man as he heated a horseshoe in the fire, then dunked it in water, and placed it on a stump. This was done outside. Very small operation.

Stoopid wanders over to inspect the horseshoe, picking it up. He drops it immediately.

The blacksmith guy grins at him and asks: “Hot?”

Stoopid: “No. It just doesn’t take me very long to look at a horseshoe.”

July 10th, 2008 | 20 Comments »

Skinny Bitch and her husband have had a few rough times together. Mostly having to do with his gullible parenting. He adores his daughter so much that he would believe anything at all she tells him. Skinny Bitch was once a teenager, and she just plain knows better.

When Heartstopper was fourteen years old, this was a big problem. Huge. Dirtbag boyfriend. Skinny Bitch wants to keep her away from him since he’s a drug dealer and all. Mr SB is all whatever Heartstopper says must be true. It made her so crazy she had to leave until the dirtbag went back to jail and Heartstopper went back to normal. Mr. SB didn’t change a bit. She has plans for revenge about this.

Heartstopper is now eighteen years old. Skinny Bitch figures you can’t tell them what to do at that age, you pretty much have to trust that your guidance and values have taken.

Mr. SB asks Heartstopper about her new boyfriend, who has his own apartment. Heartstopper practically lives at the guy’s place.

Mr. SB: Heartstopper, when you sleep over at the boyfriend’s, where exactly do you actually sleep?

HS: Da-ad! (gives an accusing glare)

HS: I’m only eighteen! (eyes fill with tears, lip starts to quiver) I sleep on the couch. I’m not ready for sex yet. Gawd!

Mr SB: (in a very very small voice) I’m sorry.

Skinny Bitch used all of her restraint to keep from jumping up and clapping, her daughter’s performance was so convincing.

I suggested to her that she find a set of numbers like the judges use at the Olympics, so she can stand behind Mr. SB and rate Heartstopper’s performances.