Decapitation by Masticulation

April 12, 2009 at 12:45 pm (The Easy Chair)

So, how ya been, everyone?

I’ve been keeping a low profile here lately. I have things that I want to talk about, get sidetracked, then they fade into the ether. I’m not running out of stories by any means, I’ve just been lacking ambition.

Oh, and a muse.

In the grand tradition of ThatGirl, Clairissa, Mizelle, etc… I need inspiration in female form. Not that they don’t still inspire me, but they’ve all wandered off to do their own thing, and I don’t connect with them like I used to. I still get out of the house, but writing about wandering around aimlessly gets old. I do better when I have a carrot, a cute curvy female carrot, in front of me.

Since I’m all out of carrots this weekend, you’re stuck with wandering stories.

It’s a couple of hours until work week for me. Getting up Sunday morning to go to work is okay, once you get used to it. I liked having Sundays off, because everyone else has them off. Not that I did much with it. ‘Slumber parties’ were easier with Sunday off; get up, have a nice breakfast, go back to bed until three in the afternoon, then get up and go home. Now I go straight to work, unshaven and discombobulated only because my morning routine is disrupted. (It’s no big deal, other than throwing off my auto-pilot.) I love the Walk of Shame feel, even if there’s no shame or scandal involved.

Not much scandal this weekend, but I did have a marvelous time. It was one of those weekends where all the long-lost friends come home to roost. Thursday was a solo night for me. I saw live music until late in the evening, then went to Raven’s for post-concert wind-down. We haven’t socialized much lately, it was nice to catch up. I rolled in about 2 AM. Little Sister was sniffing around, checking my temperance. Even with my late-night job, I’m usually home before that. (Sorry Sis, no pickles, just a cucumber.) While a giant glass of tequila sounded tempting the other day, I’m doing all right on that front.

Friday was Freewheelin’s birthday. The family invited him over, and we all went out to dinner. Niece and Nephew have grown since he’s seen them last. Freewheelin’ kept looking around for “the Little Guy,” who is now second-tallest in the family. Little doesn’t fly as a description any more.

Niece is morphing into a young woman. She dressed up, carried a handbag, and was quite ladylike for an eleven-year-old. BIL was shaking his head and writing “Buy a shotgun” on his list of things to do.

I kept falling asleep during the Blazer games, but woke up during the important parts. (Last half of 4th quarter.) We’ve slapped a whippin’ on both LAs this week. (Sing it Shaq: “Hey Kobe! How my ass taste?”) While I doubt I’ll luck out enough to see a playoff game, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’ve seen two games this year, and am thankful for that. (Especially thankful to KUFO and ThatGirl, providers of said freebies.) I will reciprocate if given the opportunity.

Saturday started off quiet. I needed a grocery run, so hustled to the market and back. I scored supplies for homemade Phillies (cheesesteak, not blunts) and lunch for work. Hurried home, dropped stuff off and got back on the bus. I needed to be out in this gorgeous spring weather. So where did I go? To the movies.

I saw Observe and Report. I spend a fair amount of time loitering at The Upscale Mall downtown, so it seemed only natural that I see the movie there. I used to know most of the mall security; nowadays they know me. A couple of them talk to me, but all the new guys eyeball me suspiciously. (As they should.) So far, no one has takin’ a hatin’ to me. After seeing Observe and Report, it’s good that I’m well behaved.

As I’m riding home, listening to Stevie Ray Vaughn on the MP3 player, I feel the vibrating of the nipple. My phone is going off, and it’s Mizelle! I manage to unplug the MP3 player and answer before the voicemail kicks in. “Howdy stranger!”

“I’m hungry, let’s do buffet.”


She’s spent the last three months in Nepal, Malaysia and Vietnam. The gang pulled up in their tiny Geo Metro, gifting me with hugs and an authentic Vietnamese boonie hat. “Just don’t wear it to veteran’s functions, please?” she suggested. I guess some people are still a little touchy about that subject. Since we were going to a redneck buffet on a Saturday night, I had Niece put it on my bed for later admiration.

Lily, the baby, is doing wonderfully. She’d had major heart surgery shortly after birth, but all went perfectly and she’s now a feisty one-year-old. She’s got two bottom choppers, is almost walking, and once she figured out I’m the same guy without the whiskers she was quite happy to hang out on my lap. We had great fun with an empty paper towel roll.

Mizelle and the Frenchman are fine. He’s preparing to return to France for wine season. Mizelle looks delicious as ever; you’d never know she had a baby a year ago. And when sensitive ears were out of earshot? It was all the slutty gossip we always share. (Too bad we’re not so slutty anymore.) It was a quick conversation, although she did have an interesting story about being videotaped while taking a shower overseas.

“You’re probably already an internet sensation. But sorry, I’m not spending hundreds of dollars on internet porn trying to find your picture.”

She blushed. “Aww… you really think people would pay to see me naked?”

“In a heartbeat. I just don’t have the time or financing to go hunting for you. Besides, if I want to see your boobs, all I have to do is wait until the kid gets hungry.” As if on cue, Lily reached for a boob, and got a mouthful.

Come summer, they have plans to move to France, but Mizelle may not go this year. Quitting her job would mean losing flight benefits, not a sacrifice she’s ready to make. (The girl flies like I take buses.) My thoughts on this are clear: I don’t want her (or them) to go. It wouldn’t be the first time Mizelle has disappeared for years, and I’m better equipped to handle it emotionally this time. It’s not my decision, and they need to do what’s best for them, but I still don’t want to lose my smokin’ hot buffet buddy.

While everybody gathers for Easter dinner, I am gearing up for a long, irritating night. On holidays I get nothing but bums and crackheads, simply because nothing else is open. I’m going to try to remain upbeat, but they’d better not rain on my parade. Happy-go-lucky turns into Happy-go-out the window in a hurry.

I wish you all a happy celebration, whether it be Jesus flying overhead or the miraculous laying of the eggs by a rabbit. Me? I’m celebrating the fact that I have a good job, good friends and family, and this spring doesn’t suck like the last two or three have.

And when I get home tonight? I have a chocolate bunny given to me by my little sister. Right after that dinner of homemade cheesesteaks, I’m gonna bite its little head off.

Happy Easter!

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