My Spirit Guide
Last night, as I was sitting around working on Shug's afghan, I watched "Most Haunted" on the Travel Channel. If you've seen this, you know that there's this crazy psychic guy who wanders through the haunted places talking to the dead folks and getting information from them.
He has a spirit guide named "Sam" who helps facilitate such communications.
Which got me thinking, I need a spirit guide.
So, I pulled out the candles and the incense and sat quietly in the dark waiting for my spirit guide to contact me.
Oddly enough, it turns out that my spirit guide is local celebrity and blogger Rex L. Camino.
Shouldn't my spirit guide be dead?
Shouldn't you get your own gimmicks and stop ripping me off?
I'm not ripping you off. It's an homage.
Don't use those fancy words on me, Frenchie.
How did you know about my stint in Grease?
I'm Rex L. Camino, Spirit Guide. I know all.
Great, then, put it on me.
And here's what he told me:
- Fritz, from TV on the Fritz, though he'll deny it, secretly longs to make his living as a George Jones impersonator. The only thing preventing this is Fritz's disturbing "yabba dabba doo, the king is dead and so are you." It's George Jones, Fritzy, not Eminem.
- The reason Kleinheider won't appear in public is that he has two heads. An even lesser-known fact? One of these heads is Al Sharpton.
- Sarcastro is actually an elaborate parody of a "divorced white male in his late thirties. Just like every other asshole with a weblog." perpetrated by two obnoxious Nashville feminists. He doesn't actually exist. The man in the photos and at the public appearances is really the infamous leftist, Church Secretary.
- The Super Genius chews tobacco, but only on national holidays.
- I have my grandpa's tooth and a raccoon penis bone in a bag by my bed.
Sadly, after these pronouncements, it appears that Camino's wife demanded he stop talking to himself or at least talk to himself in another room where she didn't have to hear it and I lost contact with him.
Still, I'm sure that these must all be true.
Why would my spirit guide lie?
posted by Aunt B at 1/28/2006 12:45:00 PM
14 Comments:
All this on just beer? Damn impressive.
When did I die? Was it painful? Was Niel Orne somehow involved (I had a vision once that he would be)? How did I know all that stuff? Can I really be a "celebrity" when I am not that much more outgoing than the two-headed Kleinheider? Does Fritz really have the hair to pull off the Possum? Did you know that Fritz is the only other blogger I've ever had a conversation with (though I never revealed myself as Rex because I didn't know he was Fritz at the time)?
Still, I am honored to be your spirit guide, Auntee.
Are you yanking my chain?
The last question was addressed toward Mr. Camino. And I've always wanted to be a Dolly Parton impersonator. I don't know about George Jones.
Your chain is unyanked, Joey. We briefly spoke on the phone a couple of times, but I didn't know that you were you at the time.
Combine Dolly and and George into a hybrid impersonation and you will have something.
You're blowing my mind.
Rex, you didn't seem to be dead. I think a side effect of your terrible illness must be some kind of astral travel.
I can't believe you and Fritz have spoken. I'm so jealous.
The bit about astral travel certainly sounds plausible in my current sate. However, the part about Mrs. Camino doesn't, as she talks to herself and various inanimate objects around the house even more than I do.
I'm an asshole. I am not in my late thirties. Therefore, this whole premise is complete bullshit.
I object to your objectification of middle-aged men with weblogs. Damn you.
J
But I love to objectivy you with your scratchy faces and your sweet kisses and your bitter optimism.
Damn me all you want. I'll be busy imagining you naked.
Objectify.
I've been drinking.
I'm, uh, (cough)not in my late-thirties, either.
I can't be held responsible for your inability to update your blog. I cut and pasted that straight from you.
Er, I mean, my spirit guide told me that 40 is the new late-thirties.
You know full well that I sell chewing tobacco on national holidays to support my nasty illegal fireworks habit.
Anyway, I have to go start packaging for my big Valentines sale (I'm branching out to Hallmark holidays) and drawing up the schematics for the companion illegal fireworks display. It will be a tribute to roses, Victorian Valentines, and America's most beloved sex toys. I can't even tell you what I have planned for Easter.
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