Slightly annoyed; slightly drunk
Nashville, if my boob freckle can't persuade you to make small talk with me, I just don't know what can.
posted by Aunt B at 1/22/2006 01:55:00 AM
Sunday, January 22, 2006
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
- "But you know, deep down, I'm kinda tempted to go ...
- Okay, I'll Admit It
- O Brother, Where Art Thou?
- Regrets, I Have So Few
- Salon.com, I'll be yours for $50,000 a year
- Old Man Blues
- Walking in on Your Folks
- My First Brush with Law-Breaking
- The Sully Love is Spreading
Nashville Knucklehead
Aunt B
Titusina Andronica
Phantom Scribbler
Nashville Knucklehead
Aunt B
Kat Coble
Nashville Knucklehead
Kat Coble
Aunt B
Peggasus
Nashville Knucklehead
Aunt B
Lee
Lee
Aunt B
Aunt B
Lee
Kat Coble
Aunt B
Kat Coble
Aunt B
Kat Coble
Titusina Andronica
Exador
Rachel
Kat Coble
Aunt B
Kat Coble
Aunt B
betsyl
Peggasus
Aunt B
Aunt B
Peggasus
Kat Coble
Aunt B
Peggasus
Kat Coble
Lee
Aunt B
Ryan
Aunt B
bridgett
Newscoma
DMartin
Plimco
Aunt B
Exador
DMartin
Aunt B
theogeo
Kat Coble
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.
10 Comments:
I'm drunk on bossanova.
There is no nashville making small talk, big talk, any talk.
It's made "Nashville Is Talking" kind of....
dry.
This is like the weekend that EVERYONE swore of blogging.
Oops. You don't know about my other blog...
Maybe if you posted pictures of your freckle?
Okay, I can see how that'd be fun for you, but I can't see how that'd be any fun for me. No, I think it's far better if the boob freckle reaches Bigfoot levels of legendary status, with people claiming to see it, people hoping to see it, and people hiding behind my garbage cans trying to see it.
If you got all my wit and photos of the boob freckle here at Tiny Cat Pants, why would anyone ever bother to visit me?
Always annoyed, working on getting slightly drunk. Tried last night, didn't happen. Working on it again.
It's been that kind of weekend.
Is that what the scary hobos were doing out behind your place? Trying to get a glimpse of the elusive boob freckle?
I hadn't thought of that. I guess it's a very good thing I didn't ask Sarcastro to come over and shoot them. It'd be very embarrassing if they turned out to be fans.
Even so, they should still be shot.
I think if they saw you strutting around with your awesome gun, they might not even mind terribly. Sure, they'd be pissed about being shot, but it would be outweighed by their admiration for how awesome that gun is.
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