First I want to start this blog off right:
So I started writing this but now I have to find out what kind of primate this is. Thank you ADD. I also blame the shame my professor instilled in me about saying something with out evidence backed up by being on the deck. On the deck, if you made a brash statement and you didn’t have evidence, someone would eat your soul. I got my soul eaten a lot.
Anyway, this is a Philippine Tarsier and they are super rare. Apparently, they will commit suicide if you touch them too much or make too many loud sounds around them. No lie, look here. The dirty hippie part of my personality is saddened by that and wants to start a crazy campaign to preserve their habitat. I might even write a haiku or four. The asshole part of my personality just thinks they are emo little shits. You learn new stuff everyday. Thank you interwebz.
Really, I just meant to post the funny picture of the crazy monkey that really isn’t a monkey but something like a monkey. I ruined the funny by going all research on it. Typical.
Anyway, the thing I had INTENDED to write about to day is that I have some epic conversations with my friends. I thought I should share a few. ( Oh by the way, since this is about actual conversations with adults there is swearing. I do my best not to swear in public, around small children, when I am trying to be professional, around people I feel it genuinely offends, or any combination thereof. When I am talking to my friends, in private, I swear. At this point, I feel like if you were offended by swearing you would have run away scream, especially after “Map of Tasmania.”)
Two Basement conversations:
I have mentioned twice that Stephen King has told Kathleen about how many words writers should aim for in a writing day. This conversation came from one of those times.
Kathleen: I love how you make it sound like I have had an actual conversation with Stephen King and not just read his book.
Me: I think it had more flair that way.
Kathleen: It sounds like I have Stephen King locked in my basement. I love it.
Me: You don’t?
Kathleen: Well, I do, but still.
Tina commented on my blog post about how I am going to be writing my book instead of worrying about making major posts here. She commented that she would lock the penis enlargement dood into a basement for me to keep him from distracting me.
Tina: Did you read my comment on your one post?
Me: Yep, and I replied.
Tina: I need to go check it.
Me: Basically I just told you that I know I am loved because you are willing to commit serious felonies on my behalf. It might be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever told me.
Tina: Well, I love you and I want to do anything I can to help you succeed.
Me: It is still a pretty big deal especially if it the creepy rape mattress basement from your house in Clinton. I mean the idea you would be willing to go down there for me warms the cockles of my heart. ( I really am a big enough of a freak to say shit like “cockles of my heart.”)
Tina: Well, I think I could do it without actually having to go into the basement.
Me: I still find it very touching.
One Conversation about Grammar:
I get insanely loopy at two a.m after having written for several hours. When I do join back into the real world for brief periods, it rarely makes sense but sometimes it leads to fun conversations.
Me: I just had one of my characters say ‘you haved my respect’
Me: ‘haved’ because has wasn’t past tense enough for the situation.
Kathleen: I thought you were doing a witty play on words like ‘you just halved my respect for you’
Me: no nothing that witty or cool, just messed up my tense. I don’t even think that is tense. Oh what- the fuck- ever. The damn jussive subjunctive of the dative agent bullshit or what ever it is.
Kathleen (laughing): I am glad to see you are so passionate about it.
Me: It is grammar, of course I am passionate.
Kathleen: It is grammar motherfucker.
Me: I want some motherfucking grammar on this motherfucking plane.
(About an hour later.)
Me: I bet being a hooker would be a great way to get blog material.
Kathleen: It would be.
One conversation about being a mommy, public urination, and cucumbers:
Last Saturday was my friend Cynthia’s son’s fourth birthday party. I didn’t go because I was obsessing about writing, I have developed a strange social anxiety since I started writing that I hope goes away after I finish my first draft, and I am just a shit person in general. Tina went with her family and I caught her on Facebook chat later that night and asked her about it. I copy the conversation and saved it as a word document because I knew it was that awesome. I could just cut and paste it here but that would be the easy way and I don’t do things the easy way.
Me: How was the party?
Tina: It was great. Sam got all buzzed out and peed on the floor of Barnes and Noble.
Me: Wow, uh,
Tina: So I cleaned it up the best I could. I changed her clothes. She spilled water all over herself as we where pulling into Bueno, because mommy did not want to cook. I made her wear her wet pants in there and she kept hugging me and telling me how much she loves me. I couldn’t even e mad at her.
Tina: Then Caius started farting so we left, the smell behind. (Understand when her son farts, it is toxic ass rot. I love the child more than anything but he can stink up a place.)
Me: Are you drinking yet?
Tina: Nope. I just offered David one of my cucumbers (she makes a fantastic cucumber salad) and he shuddered and said “eew” and pulled away as fast as he could and then said “what is it?”
Me: lmao, Really, David, Really?
Tina: I’m thinking about going to get his pillow and wubby and throwing it on the couch for him.
Me: That might be a bit much.
Tina: Motherfucker, My three year old has better manners.
Me: Your three year old is being raised by you though. lol Does he know that your child pissed on the floor of a public place and you are exhausted?
Tina: He was there!
Me: Maybe he does deserve the couch. SHE PEED ON THE FUCKING FLOOR EAT THE GODDAMNED CUCUMBER.
Tina: You just got my first smile in hours. I think that would make a great punk song.
Me: Hell yes. My son smells like week old garbage. My daughter peed on the floor in Barnes and Noble. eat, eat, eat, the goddamn cucumber.
Tina: Perspective, now I have it.
Me: Knock, Knock motherfucker.
(I stole this all with Tina’s permission. Oh, if you don’t get that ‘Perspective, now I have it’ and “Knock, Knock motherfucker’ come from the Bloggess, read this. Seriously, just do it.)