Is there anything funnier than tiny cat pants?
It seems unlikely, but my goal in life is to find out.
posted by Aunt B at 4/27/2005 07:58:00 AM
Like Donnell Alexander says, "It's about completing the task of living with enough spontaneity to splurge some of it on bystanders, to share with others working through their own travails a little of your bonus life." But, it's mostly the kind of place that folks looking for "girls and cars" stumble across by accident.
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The Butcher--My youngest brother, who lives with me and works as, you guessed it, a butcher. He knows everyone in town.
The Recalcitrant Brother--Our middle brother, who lives in rural Georgia and has a kind of movie star life, if that movie star is Burt Reynolds in Deliverance.
The Reverend--Our Dad, a Methodist minister, perpetually three years from retirement.
Mom--Our Mom. She doesn't get a funny nickname because our mom will not stand for funny nicknames.
Mrs. Wigglebottom--My dog. She's got terrible manners.
The Corporate Shill--Or The Shill, as we call her. My friend from college who was constantly getting me into trouble and going to parties she neglected to tell me about where cute boys would ask her "Where's Aunt B.?"
The Legal Eagle--The Shill's husband.
The Super Genius--She lived next door to me my freshman year of college and we've been friends ever since my first day on the floor.
Miss J.--My first adult friend, meaning the first lasting friendship I made after college. She was my roommate in grad school.
Her Lover--Her Husband.
The Divine Ms. B.--Miss J.'s sister and one of my heroes, because she's brave and funny and mystic and fearless.
JR--My oldest friend. I've known her since I was in the second grade.
Elias--JR's husband and the person who's musical tastes have most strongly affected my own. Oh, how I long to be cooler than him!
The Professor--My closest friend here in Nashville. She's a genius, but she'll never tell you that.
The Man from GM--I've known him since I was 16 and he still hasn't forgiven me for telling him I was a vegetarian when I wasn't.
The Redheaded Kid--No one knows where he comes from or where he goes when he leaves here. I assume he's the Butcher's friend. The Butcher assumes he's mine.
3 Comments:
I refuse to take sides.
But thanks for tuning me in (turning me on?) to those two.
I'd buy you a drink and give you a pat you on the back, Mr. Yundt. Birds of a feather, I like to think. Why divide when we can unite for the betterment of all humanity?
But if you insist upon formal combat, I have one question.
Would you like that beret with mustard or tartar sauce?
A more-astute someone might have guessed that the two of you would be more likely to join forces than to fight each other, but I am not that person.
I have a good excuse, though: I was distracted by a Jello peanut butter cup dessert, which is the most remarkable no-bake pudding dessert ever.
Ah, Karl, if you weren't disturbed by our use of the word 'resume' without accents to mean the piece of paper that describes our job histories, be disturbed by the fact that our most delicious puddings come out of a box.
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