October 22nd, 2008 | 12 Comments »

My long time buddy, Torch, jumped to my rescue when I mentioned that I couldn’t pull a story out of my arse. She and the Big V were my partners in crime long ago, and we had us some times. I think Torch remembers more of them because she was more sober than the rest of us. Torch usually drove.

Torch’s decrepit Ford Cortina was particularly memorable . The rust was so bad, it was all that held it together. When we reached a certain speed, the fenders would lift. We thought we were flying in that Cortina. The splendour was not confined to the rust-riddled body, oh, no, it was not. Inside were many fast food meal remnants, and all manner of refuse. On the floor in the back grew a single marijuana plant. Makes sense, with all the smoking and the readily available compost. Torch always hollered at us so we wouldn’t trample her little pet plant. We honoured Torch’s wishes. She had a fearsome temper.

This is the vehicle that brought us on countless road trips. Often, we would tear about an hour up the highway to a nice park, and pack a lunch. How they ever put up with my insufferable bossiness is beyond me, but Torch assures me that I insisted we only bring biodegradable items with us. (Maybe I had seen her car?) So, boiled eggs it was.

We got all glammed up, because really, a girl can’t look too pretty when she’s hiking the trails of a park with a waterfall in it. I think I was in a big hat-wearing phase at the time, so over the top was my every day look. There was much hilarity and picture taking. And more hilarity. Sponsored by our friend, Mary Jane. What a bunch of nature nuts.

We were very subtle with our Southern Comfort on the way there, and in the park. We had dixie cups. Southern Comfort was good because we didn’t have to bother ourselves with that pesky mixer. We drank it straight. Bad arse nature nuts. What? It went well with the boiled eggs. Which, as you may recall, were biodegradable.

Big V and Torch with their Southern Comfort.

The don’t drink and drive thing? Because you might hit a bump and spill it? The Big V was driving back, and had her dixie cup in her hand when she turned the wheel. She dumped the contents in her lap. And was very whiney because she wasted good Southern Comfort.

Yes, we were eejits. It was a million years ago. Before all the edjamacational tv ads that spell out why drinking and driving is a bad thing. Bad arse stoopid nature nuts.

Good thing the windows worked in that Ford Cortina. What with Southern Comfort and boiled eggs, I think ventilation was in order. Even for nature nuts.

June 5th, 2008 | 25 Comments »

Back in the day when Torch, the Big V, and I were inseparable, we used to hang out with a rather scruffy looking friend. He was hard to look at, but extremely witty, and we often laughed so hard our eyes were closed and streaming with tears, so it hardly mattered.

He had a truck that was just as hard to look at as he was. It had rust holding it together (sort of), but you had to be very careful if you were attempting to get into the back portion, because the fenders and sides were particularly unstable.

We dubbed it “The Crummy Old Truck” and we loved to go places in it. It was probably the shock value of seeing so many cute young women parading around in a crummy old truck with an equally repulsive looking driver. And sometimes, we would encourage him to verbally abuse us in crowds, just to see the looks on people’s faces. I could say our excuse was we didn’t get out much, but we were out all the time.

When the Queen Mother visited our city, I began to practice my “Queen Mother Wave”. Sitting on a chair in the back of the crummy old truck. While being driven around downtown. Waving to my people.Torch and the Big V have called me “The Queen” ever since.

It was particularly funny when the Big V wrote a newsletter from England, and inserted a page celebrating my impending visit. I quote:

Are you becoming a nervous wreck over the Queen’s arrival? Don’t!

Throw all your fancy clothes in the closet and dig out your rags. As illustrated in the photo below, The Queen is a casual dresser.

queen

June 4th, 2008 | 24 Comments »

I emailed The Big V asking about the fabulous dollhouse she created. She didn’t get anyone to buy it, so she had a local realtor list it, which I thought was downright resourceful. The story made the news here, and she got her 15 minutes of fame. Way cool.

The realtor has a page with information and thumbnails that are clickable, which is much more manageable than loading about 10 images in one post. Just enter preperty ID# 3542 in the box that is just below the fold. On the page that the link takes you to, of course. Duh, you knew that, didn’t you?

Do you know anyone with a couple thou extra who wants to buy an heirloom dollhouse? This is a true work of art. Everything has been handcrafted, and the lights work, and whole bunches of stuff works. I got to play with it when I visited her. It was awesome. But I didn’t wreck it or nuthin. Honest.

The Master Bedroom

The Nursery

Did you notice that the nursery has a dollhouse?

The Kitchen

In the olden days, kitchens were for the servants. Nothing fancy. But authentic.

Do I have cool friends, or what?

Posted in The Big V, down home
April 12th, 2008 | 18 Comments »

It was wicked good having Torch and the Big V visit me today yesterday. We spent most of our time laughing, which is one of my favourite things to do, and some of the time eating yummy scallops fried in butter, another good thing to do.

When we hung out all the time back in the day, there was a lot of alcohol and weed involved. It was loads of fun, but I didn’t remember everything they talked about. In fact, there was always one of us who had holes in the memories of our exploits. We took turns that way. Torch got the job of babysitting the idiots most often though. I think she did it for the amusement factor. She would crack up at anything. It was infectious.

Torch was also famous for being five feet nuthin and pure fireball when she was mad. I have stories about that for another day. Suffice it to say that sometimes, the Big V and I hid out while she cooled her wrath. Not always easy, being as she knew where we lived and all. The Big V and I were eight inches or so taller than her. Rage trumps size any day.

I want to introduce the Big V properly. Besides being flat out funny, she is an amazing artist, who is always discovering new processes to explore her art. To her, the journey of discovery is more important than the finished product. Also? She’s a wicked good cook, who hates to clean up afterward. She would make an amazing meal, and we would clean up. Good deal all round.

Poor quality image, but note the “official” chef’s hat. That woman is funny, and so creative on many levels.

She was telling us of how her dog would come up to her and whine, as if trying to comfort her. This happened often, and for weeks. Big V finally had a full body scan, where an ovarian cyst, an aortic aneurysm, and another ailment were discovered. After she got taken care of, the dog ceased whining at her. Now when her dog acts like that, she makes an appointment, pronto.

Her doctor asked her what possible operation she had had on the left side of her abdomen. Big V asked if she was sure it wasn’t stretch marks. Doctor was sure. Big V had had no operation on that side.

Big V lives in the area where I had my UFO experience, and she herself, reported lots of sightings.

*cue Twilight Zone music*

It gave Torch goosebumps, and she visibly shivered.

Me? I was the idiot going “Doo doo doo doo” a la Twilight Zone.

As a bonus, I will leave you with the image of Torch and myself, attending what we thought was a 50’s to 70’s themed event. Turned out it was nothing of the kind.

Yeah, we bad.

Posted in The Big V, Torch