Tuesday, February 14, 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
- Lunch with Fritz
- It Only Hurts for a While
- Random Stuff by Men
- Hey, Dad, I'm Going to Be a Star!
- More on The Vagina Monologues
- 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 ...
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.
14 Comments:
Well, that sounds like it went about as well as could be expected.
Hey B, too chicken-shit to meet a flesh and blood Hetero? Huh?
BTW, you've taken origami to places it was never intended to go...I'm just sayin.
I feel terrible. Why don't you warn people?
Let them experience the force of nature that is you without warning. It will cull the herd.
I was under the impression that the charming libertarians were flesh and blood heteros, but, Mack, if you have photos that prove differently, I'll give you $25 for them.
Ha, Mack's comment has vanished and so mine makes no sense. But I'm still leaving it, because it makes me laugh.
Sarcastro, I'm pleased that I can be used as a way to bring about your libertarian utopia. I was afraid you'd just run me over as soon as the revolution started.
Many are called, few are chosen.
I'm still seeing Mack's comment. Maybe it vanished because he realized the tone of it made it self-fulfilling.
Fritz is a good, sweet fella, B, and you were just being your usual helpful self. It's just when we get to pointing at and/or creating paper versions of body parts across the lunch table that we alarm the more shy, retiring folk. Regardless of their preferences.
I don't think I've ever made origami body parts for dissection and discussion at lunch, but I sure frightened the stew out of two co-workers one time when they tried to embarrass me in front of a client at lunch at Midtown. (Midtown!) Dudes, I cannot BE embarrassed. You, however, CAN. And WERE.
And the client never was the wiser. Muwahahaha, and schwing!
If only you could have shot a ping pong ball out of the napkin cooter.
That would have sent him running, arms flailing.
Save it for next time.
I would pay good money to see that nasty tableau unfold.
Fritz gets napkin cooters and I get stories about Mrs. Wigglebottom? I like stories about Mrs. Wigglebottom but damn.....
I suppose Fritz needs the occasional exposure to a cooter just to keep him grounded.
W., you're an attractive man in his thirties. I assumed you knew your way around a woman's cooter. My sincere apologies.
Now that I know how to scrunch up a napkin so that it sort of resembles one, I promise that the next time you take me out for lunch, I will show you around a napkin cooter.
I will not, however, shoot ping pong balls out of it. I'm saving that for the Wayward Boy Scout.
While I do know a little about cooters, I never turn down advice from an expert.
When you do the ping pong trick, aim for his eye.
I've learned the hard way that if you try to blind the guy once you get his face down there, it ends the fun real quick.
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