Tuesday, January 31, 2006

"Birfday" Weekend

Somewhere in the back of my mind this morning there was a seven year old version of myself kicking and screaming, "I don't wanna go to schoooool!" Taking a day off is both thrilling and depressing. At first you wake up and feel like you should be somewhere. Then you realize that you don't. Then you wonder why the hell you're up so early. Eventually you settle into the idea that you have a day off... A paid day off. I sat on the toilet yesterday morning and thought, "Right this moment they are paying me to take a shit. Jesus, this is the best day EVER!"

Later on that morning I drove to my Mom's for a "Girls' Day." This is always (by far) the best present I could hope for. When my Mom and I team up you can guarantee both of us will end up in tears of laughter by the end of the day. We drove around looking for my present, drinking coffee and unraveling the mysteries of our universe. I thought, "Right now work is paying me to discuss the length of a pig's orgasm." It's speculated to be thirty minutes if you're curious. Although Mom and I seriously question the methods scientists used to prove that.

Inevitably when you play hooky from work, there are going to be points in the day where you suddenly realize that it is indeed a work day for everyone else. Around noon I looked down at my watch and thought, "I'd be having lunch right now. I wonder if my lunch buddy is lonely without me." At three I wondered how much work would be waiting for me. At three o'five I thought, "Who the hell cares?" At five I panicked. "Oh no! My day off is officially over. Where'd it go? I'm not ready to leave!" Because everyone knows, you're no longer on a holiday when the clock rolls around to the time you would normally get off your job.

When the alarm clock sounded this morning, I had the sudden notion that today was my day off. "I'm going to roll over and sleep for thirty more minutes, then I'm going to shower and drive to Moms, then we're-" It suddenly dawned on me. "No!" I flipped the covers off and bolted toward my cell phone. "What's the date?" Once my head cleared, I stood in front of my dresser and pouted. That's when the seven year old came out and threw herself to the floor in a fit of kicking and punching. I thought about calling in sick. And then the seven year old disappeared and the twenty-three year old came out. It sucks being an adult.

Birthday surprises: Sunday morning I woke up to Hoop kissing my face and whispering, "Happy Birfday Baby." I rolled over and promptly gagged on the smell of breakfast. He looked so pleased, I couldn't refuse his sweet gesture. As I sat up in bed, munching on food with a dead tongue, Hoop walked back in carrying a package. His face beamed with pride. I stared at the green plaid wrapping paper and felt my heart swell. "Did you wrap that yourself?!" "Yup. Look, there's even one perfect side."

I tore into the paper and squealed.

It grinds the beans. It can be programmed to turn itself on and off. It shuts itself off after an hour if you forget about it. It's pretty much self cleaning. It's the ultimate lazy person's coffee maker. I'm in love. 300 Brownie Points for Hoop!

Frankenstein: Hoop and I always have strange experiences at the
gas station near our house. A couple nights ago I went in and noticed the male attendant had ductape around his neck. It was just too odd to ignore. "What happened to you?" He pulled his shirt down around one shoulder to show that the ductape extended down his arm as well. "I work construction during the day. A bolt gun got away from me." I quickly paid for my things and then ran back to the car to tell Hoop, who did not believe me. Saturday night on the way home, we debated whether to stop at a gas station along the way or wait until we made it to our usual one.

Hoop: Come on. You know you want to see Frankenstein!
Tink: The sick thing is, I do.
Hoop: I have my camera. Maybe we can snap a picture of him. We can get a picture of his wife if she's working too. It would make for colorful stories.
Tink: No way. YOU take a picture.
Hoop: I would never be able to pull it off.
(Just before entering the gas station)
Hoop: Are you going to do it?
Tink: No... I can't.
Hoop: I knew you wouldn't.
Tink: Oh shut the hell up.

So of course I did it. I strolled up to the counter and calmly lied straight to their country faces. "Today's my birthday. We're going on a mini-adventure and taking pictures of everything. Can I take your picture?" The husband and wife scooted in together and smiled broadly. The wife made Mrs. America waves at the camera. When I finished she gave me a free lotto ticket and he tried to throw down a five, which I politely declined. As we were leaving, Frankenstein called out, "You know, you guys are my favorite customers!"

I felt awful. "Hoop, I'm going to hell for this one." He laughed and ushered me into the car. We sat in our driveway, looking at the cheerful picture of our gas station attendants. Hoop zoomed in the image until all that filled the screen was the man's neck. "Oh my god," was all I could say. "That's nasty!" Hoop proclaimed. The ductape had been removed to reveal a pussing gash about two inches long.

Hoop: Now we have proof.
Tink: Yeah...
Hoop: You OK?
Tink: They gave me birthday presents! He said we were his favorite customers.
Hoop: You could always print them a copy of the picture.
Tink: True! That would make me feel much better.
Hoop: See? They'll never know.

It's amazing how we humans justify things.

Thanks for all the birthday greetings! I hope you all had a great weekend.


Friday, January 27, 2006

Luke, I am your fodder.

Might I suggest some coffee? A donut? A comfy chair? A lobotomy? Ok, the last one was a trick question. I sold the equipment for that long ago. You're probably going to need at least two of the first three though. Sunday is my birthday and I'm taking Monday off. So this post has got to stretch you through to Tuesday. I promise I'll make it worth it.

One Eye: Last night during class, the girl that reminded me so much of TW asked if I had a "cig" she could bum. Of course I did, being that there's nineteen smokable days left before I make everyone around me's life a living hell with my raging withdrawals. So we sat outside in the courtyard talking. Actually she talked. I was talked at.

TW Lookalike: So my boyfriend doesn't let me drive.
Tink: Oh?
TW Lookalike: In the eleven months we've been together I've only driven twice. He's really on my shit list lately. A roommate and I moved last weekend. I had ordered all this bedroom furniture that I couldn't possibly put together myself so I paid the moving people to assemble it. They were doing such a great job I thought I'd ask if they wouldn't mind setting up all the other furniture in the house too. They agreed as long as we paid them in alcohol. They stayed for five hours putting our house together! So then my boyfriend was mad because I had all these strange men in my house. But I told him, "If you had been here to help, I wouldn't have needed those guys."
Tink: Where was he?
TW Lookalike: I don't know. He disappeared for the weekend. He kept asking, "Want to know what I did this weekend?" I just answered, "No, Asshole. I moved fucking furniture all weekend. The last thing I want to hear is how much fun you had."
Tink: So... Why doesn't he let you drive?
TW Lookalike: Oh, right. Because I multitask. He doesn't understand how I can put on make-up and drive. It scares him. He's always asking, "How can you see?!" I tell him, "I have one eye open! One eyed people can drive can't they?"
Tink: No. No, they can't.
TW Lookalike: For real? Damn. Well I won't tell him that.
Tink: What car do you drive again?

Sucker: On the way home from school I heard an interview with
Sean Paul. God, I love his yummy Jamaican accent. I can't understand half the things he says, but who really needs to? There was a moment where I got really confused though. Sean Paul was talking about a local school that a relative of his attended. "He's really good at Sucker." I turned up the volume and leaned in. Sucker? Surely my gutter head was getting the best of me. Nope, there it was again! It wasn't until later that it dawned on me. Sucker. Succer. Soccer. Ahh... Ok.

Karaoke: After school Hoop and I made a run for our favorite hole-in-the-wall coffee bar. It wasn't until we sat down that we realized they were setting up Karaoke equipment. "Well that's a first." Hoop grinned. The people who frequent our coffee house look like they've just broken out of rehab, or prison, or the looney bin. There are people with three foot Mohawks and clothes made out of safety pins. The women paint their makeup on and the guys all look like they're contemplating suicide. They DON'T look like people who would sing Karaoke.

Our first contestant was a bona fide Hippy. A curtain of tangled hair framed his face as he adjusted the mike and cleared his throat. Suddenly, the speakers crackled with the sound of "Friends in Low Places" by Garth Brooks. "No way," Hoop whispered underneath his breath. What came out of the Hippy's mouth was a cross between Kermit the Frog and Adam Sandler, if ever such a thing could be imagined. We laughed until we cried. The guy was brilliant.

The next contestant was a chubby girl with spiky red hair. She jumped up to the mike and yelled out, "Garage sale at blahblahblah street tomorrow. FREE BLACK PUSSY!" Then she sang "Lady Marmalade," never once reading the words off the screen. There were renditions of Snoop Dogg by people who couldn't rap. There was a lively round of "The Time Warp" from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. All in all a crazy and highly entertaining night. Neither Hoop nor I braved the stage. Although I think he secretly wanted to. On the way home he played all the songs he knew the words to. We car danced and sang until we were sore in the throat.

I Saw You:
You: hottie at Planet Smoothie. Sunday, you at Tan USA. Me: Just a customer. Love to get into bed with you, a tanning bed that is! Love the music on your laptop; you can click my mouse anytime! I used to call masturbating for girls, "Double clicking the mouse." Makes this ad take on a whole new meaning eh?

Men Seeking Women:
51, 5'10, 188, Caucasian, graduate, fit, tan. Voted best-looking in Jr. High School Book, how about that! Interests: Cooking, Sports, Racing, Concerts. Letter, pics are nice, same here. Wanna see Michael McDonald's son? 1st. "How bout that?" I think that you are f'n pathetic. You are 51 years old. What the hell does it matter what you were voted in Jr. High School?! 2. I had to Google
"Michael McDonald." Impressed? Not really... I'm also not 51 and trying to weasel off my Jr. High title, so maybe I'm missing the boat on this.

Women Seeking Men:
I'm not Barbie. Oh well pookie, you're no Ken! SWF, 51, 5'5", 200, shapely, easy going. I love men! Single, unattached, non-smoker without baggage or bad breath! Must be independent, open-minded, normal, yet adventurous! Can you handle the adjectives? DING! I think we have a match!

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: I never hear you fart.
Tink: If I could, I'd push one out for you right now.
Hoop: But you do right? I mean, everyone farts.
Tink: Of course I do. I pick my nose too.
Hoop: I think I smelled one once.
Tink: That's nice dear.

Have a fabulous weekend guys!


Thursday, January 26, 2006

War of the Toys.

One day the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles met up with their Homies, Buddha and Casper, for a tour of the top of Tink's entertainment stand. While gazing in wonder at the ceramic candle pyramid, they were ambushed by a gang of Marvel Mutants. Leonardo threw himself at Magneto while the two Homies were quickly swept up in the grips of Dr. Octopus' many arms. "There's only room for one mutant gang in this household!" The Thing cried out as he turned Michelangelo onto his shell. Michelangelo rocked back and forth screaming, "You killed Splinter!"

"That rat should have known better than to shop at the same grocery store as Shadow Cat," Beast yelled back. As if things weren't bad enough, two drunk Star Wars characters happened upon the fray and decided to join in the fun. Chewbacca, never a big fan of bugs, quickly squashed Spiderman as his soldier friend was attacked by Raphael and his flying daggers.

Ten minutes later a group of Lord of The Ring characters, depressed with their lack of purpose in life (now that the whole "ring" business was finished), wandered into the battle and began to fight as well. Gimli went to work with his ax, chopping at one of Dr. Octopus' arms. Buddha and Casper wailed, "Por favor! Ayuda! No mate. Tenemos doce ninos, y cinco novias en la casa." Which might translate to, "Please! Help! Don't kill. We have twelve children and five girlfriends at home." But one can never tell with ghetto boys who learned their Spanish out of a dictionary.

And so the battle continued, shell to sword and mutant power to brute strength. It continued well into night and on through the next day. "Who won?" you might wonder. Well I honestly don't know, for they are fighting still...

I don't have kids.

I have a boyfriend who collects miniature figurines.

I'm really hoping this is preparing me for something.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Why is that Hobbit (Meriadoc) laying on the ground?
Hoop: He's dead.
Tink: Oh.
Hoop: Did you see your boy?
Tink: Orlando Bloom?
Hoop: Legolas.
Tink: Yeah, the elf.
Hoop: He's freaking out.
Tink: Is that why his arms and legs are bent at funny angles?
Hoop: Yup.
Tink: Gotcha.
Hoop: Did you notice that he's cross-eyed.
Tink: This wouldn't have anything to do with my mentioning he's "cute" would it?


Wednesday, January 25, 2006

I drive the short bus.

Meme: Tagged by Mamalujo1, who always makes me think outside the box. The rules: The tagged victim lists 8 different points of their perfect lover/partner, mentioning the sex of said partner. Tag 8 victims to join this game & leave a comment on a post letting them know they've been tagged. If tagged before, no need to contribute.

Sex of My Perfect Partner: Male

My Perfect Partner:

1. Has the following physical attributes; Dark hair, dark brown or green eyes, great smile, taller than me, slightly husky.
2. Witty and loves to laugh.
3. Enjoys sex.
4. Has "Family" high on their value/priority list.
5. Ambitious
6. Adventurous
7. Is my best friend.
8. Likes animals (dogs especially).

There's the short. Here's the low...

1. Does not have the following physical attributes; girlie legs, a wandering eye, webbed toes, buck teeth, a tail.
2. Won't ever laugh at me unless I'm laughing first. But doesn't mind if I laugh at his expense.
3. Enjoys getting me off.
4. Has "Sports" last on their value/priority list.
5. Throws himself into housework.
6. Doesn't mind wining and dining me every once in awhile.
7. Lies when I ask, "Does this makes me look fat?"
8. Won't put deer heads up on our walls.

"Tags" to anyone who wants one. Get 'em while they're hot!

Daily Hoop Conversation 1:
Tink: You know, I thought *** at work was an idiot because of all the drugs he did in his youth. But I'm beginning to think that kind of brain damage is hereditary. His son is an idiot too.
Hoop: Oh God, I hope it's not hereditary. Otherwise my children are going to come out as monkeys.
Tink: Shut up. Despite all the dabbling you did when you were younger, I don't think you killed off anything that you actually use.
Hoop: How would I know?
Tink: Except maybe the part of your brain that tells you when to get gas or service your car.
Hoop: I think you killed off the part that keeps you from getting lost five minutes after you've left somewhere.
Hoop: Hey, look at that. My tank's on "E."
Hoop: Wow, how many gas stations are on this road?
Hoop: We didn't need to stop for anything did we?
Hoop: Why the hell is the car slowing down?
Tink: Ha ha ha... Very funny.
Tink: So, where the hell ARE we anyway?!
Hoop: Five minutes from the house.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(Through text messages this morning)
Hoop: Is Marlin Brando that guy you have the hots for?
Tink: NO. You're thinking Orlando Bloom. Why?
Hoop: Lex and Terry said that they have pictures of Marlin Brando with another guy.
Tink: Oh, so you were hoping it was MY guy huh?
Hoop: Who the hell is Marlin Brando then?
Tink: Think, "The Godfather."
Tink: Ok, think "The Godfather" only younger.


Tuesday, January 24, 2006


Lyric Butcher: I've always had remarkable hearing. Maybe it's compensation for that lazy eye I had kickin' as a kid. It's damn near impossible to sneak up on me. Don't you dare whisper secrets either. When Duff was a puppy I would bolt awake from a deep sleep to the sound of him peeing on the carpet. When the T.V. malfunctions and doesn't turn all the way off, I can hear a low humming noise that no one else seems to notice. So why do I ALWAYS butcher the lyrics of every song I hear?

When Alanis Morissette came out with "You Oughta Know:"

And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

I was convinced she was saying, "Of the cross-eyed bear." I don't know what I was thinking. Possible carnival prize? Physically deformed woodland creature? When Lil' Kim came out with "How Many Licks:"

Sixty on the bezel, a hundred on the rings
Sittin pretty baby with a Cash Money bling
12 A.M. I'm on the way to club
After three bottles I'll be ready to fuck

You can imagine the confusion I felt when I heard, "After three bibles." Is Lil' Kim chasing after altar boys? Maybe she beats her dates senseless with the bibles so they'll go home with her. Evidently it's hereditary though. My Father butchered the Kid Rock "Only God Knows Why" lyrics.

Only God... only God
Only God knows why

To say:

Oh my God... Oh my God.
Oh my God, I don't know why.

Which is exactly how I felt about the song every time I heard it on the radio.

Blue Tuesday: According to the press and Dr. Cliff Arnall's, a U.K. psychologist, today (January 24th) is the "Most depressing day of the year." By now all the things that people charged for the holidays are due. The midwinter weather is starting to wear everyone down. New Year's resolutions have been stomped into oblivion. There's nothing left to celebrate and work is resuming back to its dreary self. So make sure you take some time out today to do something nice for yourself or someone around you. Me? I'm not going to do anything productive until noon. Hmmm. I don't know what exactly makes that any different from any other day. But it would certainly keep me happy.

Joystick Joyride: Last night Hoop and I stopped at B&N for some much needed java. As we were wandering the aisles we came across a rather grotesque red, pink, and white Valentine's Day display. I gave the exhibit the "stank eye" as I passed it. It wasn't until I was halfway down the next aisle that I realized Hoop was no longer behind me. I doubled back and found him at the Valentine's display, palming a Kama Sutra book. We stood for a minute, contorting our heads to better evaluate the positions. When I realized I wasn't going to be able to pry him from the book for awhile I suggested we have a seat somewhere near the back corner.

Hoop: How about that one?
Tink: My leg will NOT bend that way.
Hoop: You sure?
Tink: Yes.
Tink: Aw. They look like dolphins!
Hoop: Doesn't that one look just like the "Octopus," once your arms get too tired to hold yourself upright?
Tink: Are you memorizing the names?!
Hoop: Only the good ones.
Tink: Oh my God. *Turns book upside down*
Hoop: Oh yeah.
Tink: Um, NO... I'm not standing on my head.
Hoop: Look at this one!
Tink: The "Joystick Joyride."
Hoop: That is the greatest name EVER.
Tink: I'm starting to feel desensitized.
Hoop: What is the guy doing in that one?!
Tink: That does look a bit uncomfortable.
Hoop: It looks like he's shitting on her.
Tink: That's just lovely hon.
Hoop: Well why would his ass be-
Tink: Shhhh! Keep it down. People can hear you.
Hoop: Babe, doesn't it look like he's shitting on her?!
Tink: Oh my God. We need to go. Put the book down and back away slowly.


Monday, January 23, 2006

Chopstick Man

Every man has an inner child. Every woman has an inner Mommy. Last night I treated Hoop to Japanese. After a long day of moving furniture, and with a potentially long night of the same, I was determined to eat something that did not come out of a cardboard box or greasy bag. We munched on Edamame and waited for our waitress to come. None of the staff in our Japanese restaurant, save for the cooks, are Asian. I've gotten used to this slight oddity.

What I did not expect was a Spanish waitress. I don't mean that she was merely of Spanish descent. Although picture her in a kimono to get my full visual. I mean that she spoke nothing but Spanish. It took us five minutes to convey that Hoop wanted some chopsticks to eat his dinner with. The poor thing became flustered and looked as if she might cry on the spot.

Finally our little Senorita came back with Hoop's chopsticks. I watched as he expertly spooned rice into his mouth with them. "Try them!" he kept telling me. It's not that I don't know how. I've eaten plenty of meals in China Town, where they don't give you the option of other silverware. But when I'm that famished, I don't see the point of taking a bunch of small bites when I can shovel it in with a fork like the pig that I am.

After the meal was over, Hoop and I trudged back to our vehicles for a quick smoke break before attempting another round of Furniture Tetris. It was then that I noticed he had carried the chopsticks outside with him. "And what are you going to do with those?" I asked. He winked and stuffed a cigarette in between the two wood pieces. Then he lit it and smoked it... in the chopsticks. I should have known it wouldn't end there. Every man has an inner child.

We made a pitstop at Hoop's Mom's house on the way back to his old apartment. He opened my door...with the chopsticks. He closed my trunk...with the chopsticks. He waved good-bye to his Mom...with the chopsticks. Then he began to sing, "Chopstick Man. Chopstick Man. Doing the things only chopsticks can! Is he Asian? Is he a fan? Chopstick Man." I wrestled him to the ground, snatched the chopsticks from his hand and tossed them in the garbage can. Every woman has an inner Mommy.

Daily Hoop Conversation 1:
(While listening to rap on the radio)
Hoop: You know what I always wanted to be?
Tink: What?
Hoop: That big black guy that does the backup lyrics to all these rap songs.
Tink: So... You wish you could be the exact opposite of what you are?
Hoop: What, big or black?
Tink: No, a singer.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(Directly after some morning Nookie)
Hoop: Want to hear something funny?
Tink: Sure.
Hoop: When I could feel that you were about to get off-
Tink: -uh huh.
Hoop: I heard an announcer in my head.
Tink: You heard an announcer in your head?
Hoop: Yeah. He was saying, "It's the bottom of the ninth. All bases are loaded. The crowd is going wild... DON'T. SCREW. THIS. UP!"
Tink: Good to know what guys think about while having sex.
Hoop: Well not all guys. Some guys don't like sports.


Friday, January 20, 2006

Two crude jokes.

Last night I went to school, came home, and crashed out by nine. Nine! The last time I went to bed that early I had been up for 48 hours straight. So technically it didn't count. I woke up this morning and thought, "Shit. What am I going to blog about?" Actually it was more like, "Shit. Why can't the coffee pot be smart enough to start itself the moment I wake up?" Followed by, "Man I'm hungry" and "Oooh, I need to pee." But I'm sure you guys were down there somewhere on the list.

When I did get around to thinking about my daily blog, I realized the only thing I had to say was this... I passed my first Algebra test! *Does mental happy dance* So, yeah. There it is. Thankfully, inspiration came in the form of a dear blog-buddy with a contagious sense of humor. Wow, did that come off rather infomercial to you? "And you can have her for 111234 easy payments of only $8.99! No need get out your calculators folks. That comes to one round sum of... PRICELESS. " Thank you
Ditsy/Denice for the inspiration for this post.

Whistling Dixie

(The crudest joke I've ever heard. Also the only joke capable of making grown men pass out. For this reason, I always make sure there's at least one guy in the room when I tell it.)

A man had just been dumped by his girlfriend. He decided to wallow in his misery at the local bar. As he was slamming back his third beer, a friend walked in. "What are you doing here all alone?" The friend asked. The man explained the situation. "That sucks. Let me buy you another round. " After a couple failed attempts to get the man in a lighter mood, the friend slid himself from his seat and made to leave. "I know something that might make you feel a lot better," he said while writing down an address on a napkin. "Oh?" Said the man, not really in the mood to care.

"Yeah, her name is Dixie." "A therapist?" "No, a prostitute." "Aw man, I'm not going to a prostitute!" "Suit yourself. I don't think you'd be disappointed though. She's high class, does it straight out of her own home. They turn the lights off so you can't see her. But it's only because she's that good. She doesn't want to be recognized on the street. She gives the most amazing blowjobs, all while whistling Dixie!" The friend left. The man pushed the napkin away and ordered another beer. After ten bottles of liquid motivation he decided he might as well check the place out.

The man pulled up to the address, a nice house in a very prestigious neighborhood. He walked up to the door and rang the bell. A little girl answered. All of a sudden he was feeling really stupid. "Uh. Is Dixie here?" "Follow me," the little girl answered. She led him to a bedroom and pointed toward the edge of the bed. "Wait here. Don't touch the lights. When Dixie leaves, you can pay me outside the door." The man sat in the dark for five minutes. Just as he was debating whether to leave, the door slid open and shut quickly.

Dixie shuffled her way to the bed. Way led to way. The friend had been right! This was the most amazing blowjob the man had ever received, and the woman was whistling Dixie the whole time. After she was finished... er. After he had finished, the man jumped up and ran toward the light switch. He HAD to see this amazing woman for himself. He turned toward her as he cut on the lights... Just as she was putting her glass eyeball back in.

One night a wealthy older couple decided to go to a cocktail party at a friend's house. They got dressed to the nines and gave Jeeves, their butler, the night off. Half way through the party the wife began to feel ill. "Honey, you stay here. I'm going home. Call for the car when you're ready." On entering the house the wife turned to the left and found a very startled Jeeves standing in the hallway. "Jeeves, follow me." She called out to him. She led him up a flight of stairs, down the hall, and into her bedroom.

"Jeeves, take off my shoes." He did. "Jeeves, take off my dress." He did. "Jeeves, take off my bra." He did. "Jeeves, take off my underwear." He did. "Jeeves..." She took a deep breath. "If I ever catch you wearing my clothes again your ass will be out on the street!"

Have a great weekend all!

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

"I Saw You"

And by popular demand... Thank you Folioweekly for providing the blog fodder.

I Saw You:

"You: Dimples, curls, the hottest jazz vibe and groovy shirt! Me: old enough to be your Momma. Your sugar Momma that is! Rock out the bass next Wednesday, I'll be waiting there for hola and donde esta baby!" Sugar Momma? I want to call her just so I can cuss her out.

"Professor Plum's 12/8. You: Flawless blonde, denim jacket, black dress. Me: Actor you called cute. Mentioned you wanted to talk some more, but never got to. I'm still interested." Stop. How "flawless" can this chick be if she's wearing a DENIM jacket over a black dress? And why didn't they get to talk more? Was he killed off in the first round of the game?

"You: a hot blonde with eyes that gaze into my soul, so beautiful the stars catch their breath. Me: a blue-eyed bass player who's found the comet he's been searching for. Call me, you know the number Sparkles." Excuse me, I've got to go lose my breakfast.

Men Seeking Women:

Hoop and I also like to look in the classifieds. Sometimes we try and match the wannabe lovers up with each other. Sometimes we just laugh a lot and thank God that neither of us had to resort to this...

"Attractive single white male seeks submissive woman for fun and companionship. Like outdoors, movies, music, houses, gardening. Portland, Oregon. Thinking about relocating?" Do you remember anything after "submissive?" Me neither. Next!

"Lonely white male: very agile, elder messianic, super dapper, suant, music-loving cordial male wants winsome stiletto lady." He should have added "English" degree in there too, because I didn't understand half the crap he said.

"Seeking Black Amazon. Tall, Caucasian male, forty, very trim, athletic, versatile, persistent, never fully satisfied seeks Amazonian female who exceeds at least four of the following minimums: height 5'9", weight 178 lbs., beauty 6 on a 10 scale, sexuality 8 on a 10 scale." Wait a second... Is this a trick question? I'm only counting four requirements. Besides that, how does one gage themselves on a 10 scale? Do they take a poll?

Women Seeking Men:

"My bags are packed! Looking for companionship? I'm 5'5", 139 lbs., attractive Latin lady who loves traveling! I enjoy wine, movies, music, plays, boats, museums, loving and fun! Seeking 40-60 financially and emotionally secure man. No small children. Let's enjoy the wonderful things in life!" 1. There are too many damn "!'s" 2. I can't afford at least five of the things she listed 3. Can you say "Gold Digger?" I know you can.

"Independent, intelligent, free spirit, happy being. 51, 190 lbs., non-smoker, non-drinker, prefers same. Seeking unattached male with sound cardiovascular system for open-minded friendship." Sound cardiovascular system? This poor thing needs therapy before a man.

Might I also mention, there's an ad in here with the title, "Lesbo-a-go-go." Their marketing person should be dragged into the street and shot.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(I woke up four times last night to the dogs barking. I finally snapped. I yelled at them and then sent them to their cages. When I crawled back into bed...)
Hoop: You OK now?
Tink: NO. Stupid dogs.
Hoop: Well if it makes you feel any better, I think I just caught myself talking in my sleep.
Tink: Why would that make me feel better?
Hoop: I don't know.
Tink: So what did you catch yourself saying?
Hoop: "Uh huh."
Tink: That's a strange thing to wake up to I guess.
Tink: You're sleep talking now aren't you?
Hoop: Uh huh.



Getting Personal: Hoop and I stopped off at our usual hole-in-the-wall coffee shop last night to read our favorite alternative/opinion newspaper "Folio Weekly." It's tradition for us to curl up on one of the worn out couches with a couple Lattes and read the "I Saw You" section aloud. This is where people place personal ads for people they met once and can't find again. They're bizarre to say the least.

"Met you at Wal-Mart. I thought I had met an angel. You said you might call. I'll be waiting until the day I die."

Did you catch that? "Until the day I DIE." My God. That's scary stuff!


"CAT HEAD PAINTINGS: You: beard, smelly, dreadlocks, yellow van, homeless? Your cat head paintings touched my heart and your hands touched my no-no place. Could we try it again when your guts feel better? Did you take my house key?"

*Blink* What? It's a joke right? Right?!

I won't lie. I'm addicted. Those horrible personal ads are the only reason I frequent that hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. It sure as hell isn't for their overpriced coffee. It's not for the smelly couches that probably serve as a breeding ground for all types of new bacteria. It's not for the strange people who walk in straight off the circus train... Ok, so maybe it's a little bit for them too. But mostly it's for those damn personal ads. Do you think they make a patch for that? Or maybe some gum?

Futuristic Fairy Tales: I, like so many people, grew up with the Grimm Brothers' folk stories. I can't count the number of times I acted out the characters of their fairy tales. Sometimes I was Rapunzel, with a sheet for my hair. Or Hansel and Gretel, with a toy bin for my cage. When my brothers were babes I would enact Snow White, with different voices for each dwarf. The stories are timeless. But there's a part of me that can't help but wonder how different the stories would read had the Grimm brothers lived in the here-and-now and not the late 1700's.

Little Red Riding In Da Hood: One day her mother said to her, "Come Little Red Cap. Here is a flask of Jack Daniels and an AK47 . Take them to your grandmother. She is sick and weak, and holed up in the ghetto. Mind your manners and give her my greetings. Behave yourself on the way, and do not leave the path or you might fall down and bust your ass, and then there will be no one to save your sick grandmother."

Cinderella Bunifa Latifah Halifah Sharifa Jackson: Once upon a time there was a rich man who lived happily for a long time with his wife. Together they had a single daughter. Then the woman became ill, and when she was lying on her deathbed she called her daughter to her side and said, "Cindy dear, I must leave you now. But I will look down on you from heaven. Plant a little tree on my grave, and when you want something just shake yo daddy's leg until he gives it to you, and you shall get what you want. Don't remain pious and good, it didn't get me very far. Don't marry a balding fat man either, no matter how wealthy he may be. Marry someone who will keep that fire burning a good long time."

Little Thorny Rose (Sleeping Smugly): The fairies came to the celebration, and as it was ending they presented the child with gifts. The first one promised her a nice rack. The second one gave her a JLo butt, and so on, each one offering something desirable and magnificent. The eleventh fairy had just presented his gift when the thirteenth fairy walked in. He was very angry that he had not been invited and cried out, "Oh uh uh girlfriend! Because you did not invite me, I'll tell you what I'll do. On her fifteenth birthday, that daughter of yours will put on some stiletto heels and tumble over her own toes, falling to her death."

Daily Hoop Conversation 1:

Hoop: I just love your big beautiful eyes.
Tink: The better to see you with.
Hoop: Is that ironic?
Tink: What?
Hoop: You're wearing a red hoodie jacket, looking like Little Red Riding Hood, and quoting the Wolf?

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(Hoop fell asleep on the couch with his book across his chest)
Tink: Babe... Babe, wake up.
Hoop: Huh? Wha? What are you doing?
Tink: I'm taking you to bed. You fell asleep.
Hoop: But... How will you carry me?


Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Peeing Like A Racehorse

Thank you ME for making me think this morning ;). I'll be curious how many cups of coffee it'll take me to get to the center of this meme.

One! One cup of coffee. Muwahahaha.

Four Jobs You've Had
1. Lighter/Knife/Sports Memorabilia vendor at the flea market. I was fourteen and getting paid $20 a day under the table. The owner left me alone with over a grand in a fanny pack. I will never forget the kids of the other vendors running around spitting chew outside my booth. I'd pay them a dollar to leave me alone.
2. Cleaning condos was singly the most disgusting job I've EVER had. We would flip a coin for the bathrooms and bedrooms. There were toilets that had been used and went unflushed for weeks. There were used condoms in every crevice of the beds. Sometimes there was rotting food, laid out on the counter for display.
3. Third key at Easy Spirit/Nine West. I hate touching feet. No, strike that. I hate touching the feet of total strangers. I'm also not huge on shoes. My friends actually took bets on how long I would stay in that ill-fit job. I stayed two years. The final straw was bending over to help an elderly woman only to have her shove her foot in my face and ask, "Does this look infected to you?"
4. Food mixing center. I worked with truckers all day. I must have heard every indecent joke ever made. There was also the constant threat of being run over. I was proposed to once. A few regulars bought me meals. One guy bit me in the neck. A few fell asleep at the wheel and backed up into our building. It was crazy. I loved it and hated it all in the same breath.

Two! Two cups of coffee. Muwahahaha.

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over
Office Space
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome

Four Places You've Lived
1. In a twinkie trailer with my Dad. I slept on the couch and listened to the bums knock things around outside.
2. In a round room at the house of my Mom's second husband. It was amazing! There were absolutely no corners.
3. In a box on the beach. Well, not really. But I've always threatened to.
4. In a Flop House with twelve (and sometimes more) other people.

Four T.V. Shows You Love To Watch
1. Grey's Anatomy
2. Drawn Together
3. Sex and the City
4. House

Three! Three cups of coffee. Muwahahaha.

Four Favorite Books
Clan Of The Cavebear
The Horse Goddess (An awful title for a great book)
The Gunslinger
Secret Life Of Bees

Four Places You've Been To On Vacation
1. Cedar Point: the best damn roller coaster amusement park ever.
2. Epcot: my favorite Disney theme park.
3. Phoenix, Arizona: I hiked up Camelback Mountain for a beautiful view of smog.
4. NYC, New York: total senses overload.

Four Websites You Visit Daily
1. All of the ones to the right (and some that haven't been added yet)
Peter Pan Ok, not really
The Smoking Gun Every once in a blue moon...Or days ending in "Y"
Yahoo's Strange News

Four Favorite Foods
Artichoke leaves dipped in butter
2. Shrimp Alfredo
3. Crab and Corn Chowder
4. Creme Brulee with mixed berries on top

Four! Four cups of coffee. Muwahahaha.

Four Places You'd Rather Be Right Now
1. Home in bed with a book
2. Out having a "Girl's Day" with my Mom
3. At a theme park
4. At the zoo taking pictures

Four People You're Tagging
The Gradual Gardener
The Queen Mama
mamalujo1 (Who I love to give an excuse to write)

((EDIT: And KTP who has never been tagged before))

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(On entering a gas station, Hoop picks up a novelty "The Rock" drivers license)
Hoop: We should get this for your Stepdad.
Tink: Why?
Hoop: Wouldn't he get a kick out of having a "License to Wrestle?"
Cashier: You trying to live vicariously through that photo?
(Hoop suddenly looks confused and pissed off. We begin to walk away and suddenly he turns and doubles back)
Hoop: What exactly did you mean by that?
Cashier: Don't you know what "vicariously" means?
Hoop: *Turning red* Oh. Well yes. But that's not at all what I thought you said!
Cashier: What did you think I said?
Hoop: Bi-curiously.
Tink: *Falls against the wall laughing*

No more! No more coffee cups. Muwahahaha.


Monday, January 16, 2006

Reverse Order

Sunday: Before I begin, there are a few things that you should know...

1. I've owned my own house for three years now. Surprisingly, owning a house did NOT help my dating life. If anything it seriously handicapped it. I can't tell you how many times a perfectly good date was ruined by the question, "So, where do you live?" I would watch my date's face freeze as I answered. No more drinks were ordered, and any thought of dessert was quickly nipped with my date's request of the check. Some played it off better than others. But for the most part, I knew I wasn't going to get a call the next day.

A guy friend finally put me out of my misery. "You're a threat," he said. I screamed like a Banshee and then punched him... Actually I think I just sat there confused. "A threat?" "Yeah, you're too successful. You're too self sufficient. Guys don't know where they fit into that." I was crushed. All I had wanted was some stability. I had worked hard to purchase the little bit of dirt and concrete that I came to own. I didn't understand why I was being punished for it.

2. Eventually I did meet someone. He lived with me for a year and never once moved anything personal into the house. Not one iota. I offered to hang pictures of his kids. I made arrangements for a truck so we could move his belongings out of storage. I filled a room with boxes and crates and tape in preparation. Nothing... When he left me, there was nothing to take with him. I came home to a house that was empty of the person in it and nothing else. There was a note. That was my only indication.

3. Hoop has lived with me for the last two months, all while still maintaining an apartment on the other side of town. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been worried. Hoop put his notice in at the complex a week ago.

Last night as Hoop and I boxed and bagged the things from his apartment, I found myself going through some serious emotional swings. I was irritated that he was keeping so much junk. I was hurt by some of the personal effects left over from his previous life and wife. I was anxious to get everything moved. I walked down to the car and fought back tears. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" Hoop noticed that I was quiet on the way home. I talked when it was necessary and smiled when it was appropriate, but I couldn't fully place myself in the moment. When we got home he turned to me.

"Thank you..." "For what?" "Helping me." I looked up at him. He looked down at me with so much love, I couldn't feel anything but grateful. He has junk... So what? We all have junk. That's what kitchen drawers are for. He had a life before me... Yeah, but I can give him better. What if he leaves? Chances are you'll be with him if he does. Will everything be OK? It always was, wasn't it? It always will be too. I wrapped my arms around Hoop and felt us tumble to the couch. I laughed as he covered my face in kisses. "Could you get used to this?" He asked. "Absolutely. Could you?" I asked back. "I already am."

Saturday: I finally figured out how to load pictures off of Hoop's camera and onto my computer. Hence the cheesy shot of us at the top. I also discovered a multitude of neat editing features that kept me from some well needed sleep. Here's one of Lil' Bit

Controversial Friday:
1. My friend's little girl came home and described her teacher's boyfriend as a, "Puerto Frickin." My friend tried to correct her, but she couldn't get the six year old to understand that she was saying it wrong.
2. I found a stack of newspapers that a couple of friends and I had created for our club when we were eleven. In one I referred to a girl in my class calling me a, "Prostotote." Egad. Should I be offended by the term or the spelling more?
3. Hoop does not believe in kissing after receiving head. He thinks that will classify him as gay.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(On the way to my parents house)
Hoop: Do you want to go shoot my gun before we leave?
Tink: No, we're already late.
Hoop: But it'll only take five minutes.
Tink: No Hoop.
Hoop: Can I shoot it out the window on the way there?
Tink: Can you what?!
Hoop: Just at signs. I'll be careful.
Tink: I don't think so.
Hoop: What if I just pretend?
Tink: You're not allowed to read that book anymore.


Friday, January 13, 2006

A Quickie

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(Hoop and I met up for lunch at a local outlet mall. We decided to sit in the trunk of my SUV for the remainder of the hour and people watch.)

Hoop: What's that guy staring at?
Tink: I think he's trying to figure out what we're doing in my trunk.
(Watches car pass)
Tink: He doesn't realize we're testing to see how many bodies we can fit in it.
Hoop: I'm thinking...5.
Tink: Unless they were really tall.
Hoop: That's what crowbars are for.
Tink: True.

Have a great weekend!



Looking Back: I believe that all things are connected. Life is constantly showing us signs that we either miss or don't know how to interpret. One of my favorite books is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. I actually read it twice, back to back, just so I could soak it all in. I'm always looking for these signs. I'm always looking for another reason to believe that humanity is beautiful in the way that everything is here because of everything else around it. So it frustrates me to no end when I catch one of these "signs" and don't know what it was intended for.

Back when I lived at the
Flop House I was friends with a girl I'll call TW. For years we had been inseparable. Her parents joked about me needing to bring them adoption papers. The majority of people that inhabited the Flop House were friends she'd acquired over the year we had grown apart. I trusted her judgment. I shouldn't have. The last night I spent in that house, we had a vicious fight. Drug deals had been going on inside the house without my knowledge. Or maybe I just chose to be blind. We started screaming at one another about it and suddenly I had a girl twice my size hurtling herself at me. I remember getting my head put through a mirror and somehow us ending up in the bathroom. The cops were called and parents arrived uninvited. It was a mess.

I'm so much healthier now. I can't be grateful enough for how good my life has become. And I haven't thought about TW in a long time. Last night, as I was getting out of the car for school, I smelled perfume that reminded me so much of her. That alone wouldn't have been anything strange if not for the girl I met on break. I actually caught my breath when she asked me for a light for her cigarette. She looked exactly like TW had on the day that I first met her. She sounded like her. She had the same mannerisms. "What are you going to school for?" I asked and then held my breath. I just knew it was going to be the same that TW's had been. "Nursing." My head and hands felt tingly all of a sudden. I excused myself and left the courtyard.

I thought about it all the way home. WHY? Why did I meet this girl that reminded me of TW? Was the real TW OK? Was there a point to what just happened? It's odd. The week I finally decide to pitch all those souvenirs to my past life, I see someone that could be a twin to the girl who made me change it all. Oh... There it is... The epiphany. She was the final push that made me change it all. I would have done it eventually. But she made me do it then, which has made all the difference since. Thank you TW, wherever you are. I hope you got off the drugs. I hope you left those toxic friends behind. I hope life finds you as happy as you have made mine. I hope you never forget to see the signs.

Looking Around: For the last two nights I have been plagued with the strangest dreams! In one I was grocery shopping with Hoop, only I didn't recognize any of the food he was picking up. In another I was taking a shit, and my Mom kept barging into the bathroom to tell me the Playstation2 wouldn't work for her. In another I was walking through my house, but I couldn't keep from bumping into the walls. I wake up feeling like I'm drunk, or was drunk, or should be getting drunk in order to make up for the sleepless nights.

I went
here to try and find out what my dreams could mean. Then I got bored... So I decided to look up more interesting words instead lol.

Pickled: "Signifies some anxiety, fear or realization that you may be in trouble. Alternatively, the pickle may be seen as a symbol for the penis."
Beef/Cow: "Signifies your obedience to authority without question."
(So the title of my blog means I'm obedient to the penis huh? Go fucking figure.)

Abominable Snowman/Yeti: "Suggests that you need to learn to find balance between your reasonable, rational side and your emotional, instinctual nature."
Oatmeal: "Suggests that you are well-grounded." LOL Then what's coffee mean?!
Coffee: "Suggests that you should gain some insight and knowledge before making a decision or tackling some project/relationship."
Yankee: "To dream of being called a Yankee foretells that your lover could be less than true. To call someone else a Yankee foretells that your plans will go accordingly without a hitch. To see Yankees signifies happiness, possible gains and a loyalty to your duty and promise." Who the hell dreams of Yankees? And why do I keep getting the mental image of them all prancing in a field of flowers?

Looking Forward: Hoop went out shooting while I was at school last night. I've created a monster. Actually, it's all
The Gunslinger's fault. Don't get me wrong. "The Dark Tower" series is fantastic. I would shamelessly push them on anyone I possibly could. But I'm a girl. I didn't get or expect the shoot-em-up itch while I was reading it that Hoop evidently has. It's great to see him reading. It's a little scary to hear his new found interest in guns. I actually heard him refer to a sawed-off shotgun as being the "ultimate home protection," capable of "spilling guts on the floor." Ewwww.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: That guy on T.V. looks exactly like the drunk guy we saw at the Sub place.

Tink: Yeah, I guess so. Maybe with some dental work done.
Hoop: And speech therapy.
Tink: And after using Visine.
Hoop: After some AA meetings.
Hoop: Ok, so he doesn't look anything like the drunk guy we saw at the Sub place.
Tink: Yeah, not really.


Thursday, January 12, 2006


Spoils of War: Last night as Hoop was off at school, I pulled down some boxes from my closet that had long been collecting dust. I didn't know exactly what was in them. But I had a good idea. Two hours later I was still sifting through the memorabilia of my past relationships. It wasn't hard to throw away the pictures. The loving embraces of the people in the photographs appear so fake now. I searched the face of the girl looking back at me and saw no hint of love there. I saw someone too young to know what she was looking for. It wasn't hard to throw away the souvenirs either: pressed flowers, wax hands, and a dozen cheesy teddy bears. But then I came across something that left me a little confused on what to do... Baby pictures.

What the hell were those boys thinking? My Mom would have kicked my ass. I shuffled through the handful of pictures. There were little boys in basinets, in towel capes, with gaping smiles, wearing bubble beards, and in Halloween costumes. I almost felt perverse. The pictures landed neatly in the garbage, only to be rescued a moment later. I threw them away and pulled them out three times. I didn't feel right keeping them. I didn't feel right throwing them away. For a moment I contemplated finding the owners of the pictures. But crossing burnt bridges was never my type of thrill.

Indecision might as well equal insanity in my world. It makes me do/think stupid things. I carried the pictures with me to work today. I didn't want to box them back up and leave the decision for another day, five years further down the line. I didn't want to leave them out and have to explain to Hoop why I have baby pictures of someone else. For the first hour of work I thought about them, tucked away in my purse. Will I ever be able to get rid of them? Or am I determined to make myself carry them around forever like a scarlet letter? And then it dawned on me...

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. It's not my fucking fault these idiots so carelessly gave away their childhood. I would never have left behind something so special. They hit the trash can with much less of an explosion then I expected, and God's finger didn't come down from the clouds to point at me. So I'm hoping I did the right thing. [Edit: Did I do the right thing? I did the right thing... Man, this sucks.]

What kind of English do ya'll speak?
I am:
80% General American English
10% Dixie
5% Midwestern
5% Yankee
0% Upper Midwestern

When I first moved here from up north a gentleman down here asked me, "What's the difference between a Yankee and a damn Yankee? A Yankee comes to visit. A damn Yankee comes to stay." Wouldn't he be proud to know I'm no longer just an implant. I say "Ya'll" and everything!

Strange Superstitions: Tomorrow is Friday the 13th. In honor of that dreaded date, here is a list of strange facts and trivia concerning the number 13. Ooooooh. ;)

1. More than 80% of high-rises lack a 13th floor.
2. Many airports skip the 13th gate and no airplanes have a 13th aisle.
3. On streets in Florence, Italy, the house between the number 12 and 14 is addressed 12 and a half.
4. In France, socialites known as the quatorziens (fourteeners) once made themselves available as 14th guests to keep a dinner party from an unlucky fate.
5. Many Triskaidekaphobes (people who fear the number 13) point to the ill-fated mission to the moon, Apollo 13, as verification for their anxiety.
6. Some people who have 13 letters in their name: Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer, Theodore Bundy, and Saddam Hussein.
7. According to the Bible, Judas Iscariot was the 13th person to sit at Christ's table.
8. In a deck of Tarot cards, the number 13 card is called "Death."
9. Friday the 13th occurs at least once a year, sometimes twice. In 1998, Friday the 13th occurred three times. The next year in which this will occur is 2009.
10. Some people consider the $1 bill unlucky because there are so many 13's on it: 13 stars, 13 stripes, 13 steps, 13 arrows and even the olive branch has 13 leaves on it.
11. Every year 13 people are killed by vending machine accidents. Was that Snickers really worth it?!
12. Composer Arnold Shoenbeg was superstitious of the number 13. He died on Friday the 13th at 13 minutes to midnight.
12 1/2. Lizzy Borden uttered a total of 13 words at her trial.

14. Fear of the number 13 costs Americans billions of dollars per year in absenteeism, train and plane cancellations, and reduced commerce.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Look at all the weeds! They shouldn't be growing in the dead of winter.
Hoop: We'll go pick up some weed killer this weekend.
Tink: ...Or rabbits.
Hoop: Uh, or rabbits.
Tink: ...Or a goat.
Hoop: A goat?
Tink: I don't want to mow anymore either.
Hoop: But a goat will eat all the grass.
Tink: Not if I buy a really really small one.
Hoop: So we need to go buy some rabbits and a goat?
Tink: Yup.
Hoop: Thank you baby.
Tink: For what?
Hoop: Cheering me up.
Tink: You're welcome.


Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Dumpster Diving

I can officially say that Hoop and I have done it all together. Last night at about 8 o'clock you would have found us knee deep in muddy water at the bottom of a dumpster. A fucking dumpster. On Sunday I had finally gotten around to cleaning out the junk room. The only problem with cleaning out a room full of junk is, when you're done you end up with a room full of bags full of junk. Since our garbage man is particular about the amount of things he's willing to pick up in a given stop (read that again for the full stupidity of the statement to sink in), Hoop decided to throw our trash in one of the construction dumpsters down the street.

Doing illegal things totally sketches me out. So I played lookout while Hoop threw the trash in. We had everything from broken bed-frames (hehe), to an old vacuum cleaner, boxes, unaddressed letters from fourth grade, stuffed animals my dog likes to hump, and a slew of empty CD cases. We giggled like a couple of delinquents on the way home. I honestly hadn't thought of it again until last night when my Mom called. I could hear the panic in her voice as she slung out words like "cops" and "trouble." It took a little while to understand that someone had called her in regards to Hoop and my dumpster rushing.

I looked up at Hoop from our cold dinners and relayed the story. Evidently one of the boxes I'd thrown away had been addressed to Mom. The contractor had called the sheriff's office and been told to try and handle the situation himself. With a few clicks on the computer, he'd been able to pull up Mom's phone number and Voila. By the time we arrived, the dumpster had been raided. Nothing was in bags anymore. Papers and trinkets lay buried in a foot of muddy water and broken tile. Hoop and I took turns holding the flashlight and scooping up handfuls of smashed vacuum and soggy letters.

The builder, a goofy old redneck, ran around pointing out splinters of CD case and berating us for our foolishness. He went on and on about the fines his company would receive if we left anything behind. He joked about the "love" letters floating around in the water. I blushingly replied that letters from girlfriends in fourth grade could hardly constitute as anything so serious. He reiterated how he found the neighborhood kids digging through the bags. "They took some of your CDs!" I looked up, soaked and grumpy. "Well, they did find them in the trash. I can't be mad for them taking something I didn't want."

"Well, I've learned my lesson." I told Hoop as we unloaded the rebagged garbage at the foot of our driveway. "I'm sure that builder would be pleased to hear that dear." We laughed and shook our heads when we entered the house, fully registering the disgusting nature of our deed as the light hit our splattered clothes. Dumpster diving was never something I imagined myself doing. I don't recommend putting it on your "Rainy Day To Do" list. The only thing that made it worth while was the forty-five minute shower Hoop and I took together afterward. *Growl*

Monday, January 09, 2006

An extra helping of Hoop.

First Helping: Ignorance is forgivable, because it's curable. But I've found that as I've gotten older and perhaps more mature, I cannot tolerate stupidity. Stupidity either pisses me off or makes me laugh in ways that cannot be considered kind. Don't glare at me like that. At least I'm honest about it. Hoop is currently working toward his business degree. You would think that in a field based around professionalism, people could at least pretend to know what the hell they're doing. Unfortunately this just isn't so. I listened last night as Hoop patiently explained to a group mate over the phone the meaning of the term "reward." At first I thought he was patronizing the poor guy and almost berated Hoop when he ended the call. I'm glad I didn't. For as it turned out, he deserved to be commended instead...

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: While I was on the phone with him he actually had to look up "reward" in the dictionary.
Tink: You're kidding me!
Hoop: No. But I think I handled it well. I tried not to sound like I was demeaning him. The guy is thirty-nine years old and he doesn't even know the meaning of the word "reward." How is that possible? How do you go through almost forty years of living without knowing basic concepts such as that?
Tink: That's awful! I almost pity the man. Has he been so deprived of rewards that he can't understand what it means?
Hoop: I know, right?! I mean, was he never given a dollar as a kid for taking out the trash?
Hoop: Did he never give his dog a milk bone for doing a trick?
Hoop: Did he never get a blowjob for doing something nice for his girl?
Tink: *Falls off the couch laughing*

Second Helping: I'm not an overly emotional person. I'm very capable of not taking offense to backhanded remarks, EXCEPT when they're coming from someone I really care about. It's all fair until you're holding my heart in your hand. Hoop knows this about me. He's usually very careful about how he phrases things, lest I take offense or over-think what he's trying to say. I know this is a flaw of mine. Last night over coffee, Hoop and I got into the dangerous conversation of morals and the decay of modern relationships. He desperately wanted to make a point about cheating partners, but didn't want me to over-analyze and apply the conversation to our relationship...

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: So there's this girl. She's NOT you OK?
Tink: OK.
Hoop: She doesn't look or act anything like you. You don't know her. Her name is Jane. Jane Doe. She lives in Brazil.
Tink: Brazil... Got it.
Hoop: And she's dating this guy. Um... Ghengis.
Tink: Ghengis?!
Hoop: So Jane Doe and Ghengis are living together. Jane starts going out and partying until late. This eventually leads to her cheating on Ghengis-
Tink: -should I be worried?!
Hoop: *Throws hands up in air* I said you don't know these people!
Tink: I really don't want to be having this conversation.
Hoop: Oh my God Tink.

Random Thought:
I would like to go to a pet store and buy the smallest goldfish I can find. I would return it a couple days later. When the person at the counter questions why I'm bringing back my fish, I will answer with the utmost seriousness:

"It's eating me out of house and home!" OR
"It plays too rough with the kids" OR
"It just won't listen when I tell it to sit."

I just want to see what they'd do.



Hoop and I woke up Saturday morning with the intention of cleaning out our junk room. Yes, we have a whole room. Instead we laid around in our own stink for six hours reading, eating blueberry muffins the size of my fist, and trying to figure out who needed a shower more. Hoop won. When we finally rolled around to getting decent, neither of us was particularly interested in cleaning the dreaded room. So in an effort to beat the misadventure of the previous night we hopped in the car for yet another detour...

Friday: I was going to make steaks. But the meat smelled skunky. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it. Hoop and I eventually decided on a homestyle buffet about thirty minutes away. We say we like to go for the bread. It's definitely not for the food. But in all honesty, I think we go for the people. This buffet is in the middle of nowhere. And frankly, it might just be the highlight of these small town folks' lives. It's probably up there with Church and God.

It's great fun. Even though I lose my appetite almost immediately upon entering the building, contradicting the whole point of going to begin with. I think it's the sight of the jostling masses, running toward the tables with their elbows out the moment they replenish the troughs. I once had a woman shove me in the ribs as I was reaching for the chicken breast she was aiming for. Unlike me, Hoop never has a problem fighting for his food. When we meet back up at the table his plate is always full and he looks as if he just ran a marathon. Mine looks like the scrapings Vultures wouldn't touch.

After dinner we decided to drive into the unknown and find the two screen theater the town paper had advertised. It took us numerous wrong turns and two stops at shady gas stations to find it. When we got there I stood in wonder and whispered to Hoop, "It's amazing!" He chuckled and dragged me toward the door. The sign above the building read "Theater" in sputtering neon lights. The inside was archaic, held together with old movie posters and 60's shag carpeting. When we sat down to watch "The Ringer" I slung my feet up on the wood board in front of me and broke the only thing holding the front seats up. I was in heaven.

Saturday (post morning funk): Our goal was simple. We were going to an electronics show in Jacksonville. We should have known to turn around when a guy leaving the building shouted, "Don't do it!" at us as we were walking in. Fifteen minutes later we were yelling the same thing to other people as we made our way back toward the car. "So, what now?" Hoop asked. I shrugged. We drove around the city, making pitstops at toy stores and decorative fountains. About an hour into our random drive I started to get hungry.

Hoop tried to get us back to the highway, realizing too late that he'd picked an exit without an on ramp back. We drove deeper into the city looking for any restaurant that wasn't fast food or of questionable content . My stomach rumbled loudly as an hour later we hadn't found a restaurant or a way back home. "I'm sorry babe!" Hoop called out as he swerved through lanes of traffic, searching for any road he might recognize. Deeper and deeper into unfamiliar territory we went. Two hours into our misadventure, Hoop was yelling at the drivers around him "MOVE! My baby's hungry!"

We eventually found a place to eat and a way back home. Hoop's nerves were frayed so I played my Old Skool remix on the way back, loudly singing out my own lyrics to Snow's Informer song, "Informer! BlahdeblahdeblahdeblahdeblahBLAH! I'll lick your boom boom down." And Salt-N-Pepper's Push It song, "Ahhh. Smushie!" I accompanied it with some erratic car dancing and nearly got us killed when Hoop couldn't stop laughing long enough to drive. All in all a great weekend.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: Did you know --'s Pizza Buffet puts something in their food that makes you not hungry after a few slices?
Tink: Really? You'd think that would be illegal.
Hoop: Naw, it's probably something natural.
Tink: I can't think of a single thing that might do that.
Tink: Where exactly did you read that anyway?
Hoop: I didn't.
Tink: You didn't?
Hoop: I came to the conclusion myself.
Tink: In other words... It's bullshit.
Hoop: Yeah, pretty much.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(After several snippy remarks to each other, Hoop gets off the couch to get something to drink)
Hoop: Aw man, I've been sitting too long. My butt cheek fell asleep.
Tink: Uh huh.
Hoop: Babe, my ass hurts!
Tink: That's because it's taking over your whole body.
Hoop: *Blink blink*
(10 minutes later)
Hoop: My ass is taking over my whole body huh?
Tink: Yeah... I meant because you were being such an ass to me.
Hoop: *Laughing* Uh yeah. I got it hon.


Friday, January 06, 2006

All in a night's work.

Do you know what the strangest feeling in the world is? Digging through a pile of Queso Dip on the floor for pieces of glass. I spent forty-five minutes doing just that last night. All the while feeling as if I were participating in some disturbed rendition of that Double Dare game where you have to find the flag in the slime before the clock runs out. Only my prize being possible stitches. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me begin where work left off...

School: It's been two years since I went to college. I was doing well for awhile, balancing a full time job and two classes a week. All that ended the day the school sent me a warning note. I had finished all my English credits the year previously and was knee deep in Speech and Psychology electives when the letter arrived in the mail. They warned that if I didn't take a math class the next semester, I would not be allowed to return. I hate math. So... I never went back. I'm not proud of it! It's taken me two years to swallow my pride (not to mention fear and stubbornness). Yesterday I took the first step at continuing my education.

As I sat in the math class, feeling as if my stomach were trying to digest rocks, I looked around at all the other anxious faces seated around me. It wasn't a very promising crew. To the left was a man in a trench coat. In front was a woman old enough to be my grandmother. She turned around to smile at me and I swear her teeth swished around in her mouth a bit. To the right was a girl in ALL camouflage, down to her shoes, purse, and bookbag. When the teacher walked in and requested we announce our names and professions, I half expected her to pass the girl by. The cool response would have been, "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there. You blended in so well!" But she wasn't that cool.

Homeward Bound: The first thing I noticed when I got home was the empty trash cans had been removed from the curb and put back next to the house. 10 Brownie Points. The second thing I noticed was that the laundry had been started. 20 Brownie Points. The third thing I noticed was that Hoop had gone grocery shopping while I was gone. 100 Brownie Points. "Are you feeling OK?" I asked him as I surveyed the fridge. "I don't know what you did with my boyfriend, but I'd like you to stay!" I reached up for his sweet adorable face and realized... It was hot. I patted at Hoop's forehead and looked up at his glassy eyes. "Oh shit babe. You really aren't feeling well huh?"

I sent him to the couch to relax as I made our lunches for the next day. He shuffled in and out of several rooms and eventually landed back in the kitchen, digging out a brand new jar of Queso Dip. I bit my tongue when it shattered on the tile floor. After shooing Hoop back into the living room I tried to clean up the mess. But how exactly do you clean something like that up?! After forty-five minutes of digging through the glop, I felt assured enough that I'd found the majority of jar shrapnel. I proceeded to scoop up Queso by the handful and plop it into the trash. Bleh. An hour later I could see my floor again... The cracked part the jar had landed on. -100 Brownie Points. It also still smells like cheese, despite the obscene amount of bleach I used. -30 Brownie Points. Total score: 0 Brownie Points. Poor Hoop can never get ahead. Ah, but I love the man.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(Jazzi paws at Hoop's arm and whines)
Hoop: Jazzi is so needy! She doesn't even act like a dog. She won't even do normal dog things like Duff will.
Tink: I know. She almost acts human.
Tink: That's why I think I'm coming back as her when I die.
Hoop: Uh huh... So you're saying that Jazzi is really you after you die?
Tink: Yup.
Hoop: But you're not that needy.
Tink: I will be once I can't watch TV, read, or have sex anymore! Our affection is all the dogs have.
Hoop: True.
Tink: So if I die, you can't get rid of this dog...
Hoop: *Shit eating smile*
Tink: Hoop, I'm serious... Hoop?

Hoop: You are so strange.


Thursday, January 05, 2006

Strange or Deranged?

Meet this guy. He thinks he's Peter Pan. He's 52 years old and dresses like this. There's NOTHING I could even add to make that any better! So I won't. Instead, in honor of the Peter Pans of this world, I present to you:

Tink's List Of "Strange"

1. Check out this strange game where not choosing the correct
urinal will cost you some points.

2. The strangest animal in the world is the
Platypus. Not only is it an egg laying mammal, but it has the tail of a Beaver, the bill and webbed feet of a Duck, and poisonous ankle spurs. And on the seventh day... God ran out of spare parts.

A strange vehicle. It would have been better if the guy had been dressed up as the Hamburgler.

4. Strange hair for the Survivalist? Doesn't it look like a toilet paper holder?

5. Strange furniture. If you live in California you might already have furniture that looks like this. If not, check out this
site. It's AMAZING!

You weirded out yet? No? Ok... GRAND FINALE:

Hope you all have a wonderfully normal day!