Monday, February 13, 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
- Make Him Tell You in Front of Me
- Cooter Talk
- Also, About the Smoke Detector
- "Oh, you can't get a man with a gun!"
- Bill "The Kitten Killer" Frist Moves to Screw Gay ...
- Blogger Pajama Party
- Mrs. Wigglebottom Explores Religion
- For Once the Right is Right
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.
12 Comments:
AAAK! That's so exciting! I wish I could see it. Break a leg...or a clitoris or something.
The best advice I can give you? Masturbate before the performance. Not because it's a show about vaginas and is incredibly apropos, but because it will make you relaxed and happy and focused and ready for your public. Thank you, that will be $39.95.
Does that mean comps for all regular readers of Tiny Cat Pants?
Break a clitoris? That cracks me up.
W., all the proceeds go to Magdalene House, so I'd hate to deprive all my regular readers of the chance to help a worthy cause.
Yeah, right, Plimco. Any excuse to masturbate.
"I'm doing it for the show."
Perhaps, for your own special twist you can work the boob freckle into your monologue. The more the merrier! Good luck!
I will totally be wearing the good bra, so maybe I can work a little something to at least give the boob freckle a public airing.
All right, boyscout. I masturbate all the damn time. I never pretended to be shy about it.
I'm just saying, it is ESPECIALLY beneficial before one performs.
I'm just saying...
That is awesome, B. You rock! When are the performances? I have to come down and see you. I mean, I know that I've seen and read you talking about your cooter a million times before. But still...
Miss J
There's just one show, the 25th at 9:30 at the Belcourt, which is, if I recall, where your sister's lover works.
Cool, it is always great being on stage, unless it sucks, and you get sick and vomit, especially in front of the crowd who paid good money to see you perform.
I'm sure that won't happen to you though....
Sorry, mild attempt at being funny. Congrats, you will do great. If it helps, stand up there an imagine me in my underwear, that should be all you need to fight off that stage fright. Of course, the laughing and pointing might make people wonder what you are on...but give it a shot.
Okay, if it's for a good cause I'll overlook the lack of free tickets.
You know what this means right? Your cooter is going to be a star, so you want it to be at it's best. That means no using it until the show.
Don't worry too much B. If you get nervous, they sell hard alcohol at the Belcourt. You and your vagina are going to be amazing (as usual)!
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