Friday, August 26, 2005
About Me
- Name: Aunt B
- Location: Nashville, Tennessee, United States
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.
I'VE MOVED. COME CHECK OUT THE MOST RECENT STUFF HERE.
WHERE TO DIRECT YOUR HATE MAIL AND LOVE LETTERS
ALL PROCEEDS GO TO BEER
THINGS I SAID RECENTLY
- The Corporate Shill Shills for Me
- What can dog nuts tell us about human gender issues?
- My New Reader & Other Stuff
- Why Blog?
- Doing My Part for John McCain
- "I'm Alive!"
- $2 Beer & $2 Parking
- Deals You Make in Your Head--The Remix
THE CAST OF CHARACTERS
Aunt B.--Your kind host.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.
8 Comments:
I remember the first principle, but I can't take credit -- my cousin The Chemist devised that formula long ago.
As for the second. I think I was drunk when I said that.
That's the first typo I've ever noticed on TCP. "Meat a person."
A Butcher Freudian slip?
Drunk but right. You were talking about a mutual friend, but I think it can be extrapolated to the difference between liberals and republicans.
Libertarians on the other hand...
Luckily, my dating skills are better than my math skills. For a brief moment, I thought I was going to have to cancel on a young lady tomorrow night. Thank god for ".5".
I've heard that first one before myself. But the way I heard it, one of the world's major religions gives that formula as the perfect age for a man's wife. I'm more inclined to believe the Shill's story about where it actually comes from.
W
Roboto, a man with your legendary reputation would do well to ignore 95% of what I have to say, because, clearly, you are beyond the rules that govern mere mortals.
W., no I think it's the same thing. The Shill's cousin is actually Jesus Christ.
I kid, folks, I kid.
I'll have you know that the young lady was enjoyable to talk to about her career goals, how annoying her mother was when helping her set up her apartment, and celebrity gossip.
Yikes. Maybe the that equation has a basis in fact.
Speaking of celebrity gossip, wasn't one of you going to ask someone who'd fucked John Rich if she had any insight into why he's always covering up his chest?
Shoot, John Rich, if you read Tiny Cat Pants, I'd be more than happy to sleep with you just to find out. Have your people drop my people an email.
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