Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Time To Wango

As I slough through life I note moments that could be blogworthy. Unfortunately I don't have time to develop all these ideas. Sometimes I do and they end up sucking. So here are some random notes I need to dispose of because they couldn't stand on their own or I didn't have the time and patience to nurture them properly. Same reason I don't have kids.

Ponytail Express
The Bourbon Street cops on duty watching the World Series with me didn’t notice the drunk girl braiding the police horse’s mane. The horse didn’t seem to mind, but I’m sure the cop took some shit when he turned the horse into the stable.

Notes from the Friendly Skies
Coming back from Atlanta this week I was seated next to a grandma from Abilene reading an article offering evidence that demons are, in fact, fallen angels. She only tried to talk to me once, but I quickly bit the head off the bat I keep in my carry-on bag just for that very occasion. It doesn’t taste anything like chicken, but it was worth it.

Notes from The Galleria
The Bebe mannequins are pretty hot, but Versace Couture is a close second. Even the ones without arms.
Being a shoe salesman at Nordstrom’s is probably a great way to meet hot women, but in the end you’re still a shoe salesman and even your employee discount probably won’t matter much.

I try to look menacing so that people leave me alone, but I have a feeling that I just look kind of annoyed instead. It still seems to work most times.

Conversation from the Le Pavillon Fitness Center

Her: You can change the channel… I’m almost done working out.
(that president show with Geena Davis is on the small TV in the corner)
Me: OK
(not changing the channel)
Her: There’s probably some sports on or something.
Me: Why would you say that?
Her: Because you’re a guy and you’re working out.
Me: Just trying not to gain any weight with all the food I’m eating down here.
Her: I try to keep snacks in my room but still eat a lot.
(while walking out the door)
Me: Have a good night.
(change the channel to playoff baseball)

Postscript: Bread pudding isn’t as bad as it sounds, particularly with a warm caramel rum sauce.

7 comments:

213 said...

Mrs. 213 is so glad that you have this blog now so that we do not receive the extraneous contents of the junk drawer in our mailbox.

but thanks for the explanation of why you don't have kids. I thought it was just that you didn't want to be hit by whiffle ball bats while you mow the lawn.

I'll have to share my recipe for bread pudding pear pie in exchange for your recipe for bat's head soup.

Humpy Bogart said...

Good to hear the New Orleans PD had something to do with their time.

The grandma from Abilene was probably thinking, "I wish this guy would put his pants back on."

And that lady in the fitness center most likely concluded that you're a shoe salesman at Nordstrom’s...

Good Day.

Moist Rub said...

You should be concentrating on the muscle groups you are working on whilst working out, and introspecting to find inner peace. Turn the TV off and crank out some Accept on the white noise maker.

L A Ray said...

Hey! Nothing to say, just letting you know I'm lurking in the meantime.

Sid F'er said...

213 - the junk drawer overfloweth - I'm just trying to find a box big enough for the next shipment.
No tricking up the bread pudding with pear pie. It's just fine on it's own, thank you.

Humpy - I just like to make sure my pants won't snag on anything should an emergency evacuation be required. Parachute pants tend to do that. And ironically, they don't come with an actual parachute.

Moist - It was the White Sox game. So don't ever tell what to do.

LA Ray - Having nothing to say never stops me from posting. Thanks for stopping by.

keysunset said...

I am enjoying the new visual touches to your page! Too cool! Speaking of two, though, I didn't realize Moist had two heads! I can hardly wait for the links to the Leprosy Live! videos to see how that worked on stage. My uninformed and unsolicited guess would be one head sang and the other drooled at the hot chicks in the audience?

Bread pudding pear pie?! I'll choose rice pudding - oven baked, no raisins. YUM!

Keep on sorting through that junk drawer, Sid, these entries are a hoot.

Aunt Nina said...

Sid, forget menacing. Try looking insane to avoid others. When people think you're crazy, they tend to leave you alone.

Also, the humongous ticket is a nice touch. Really.