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This sounds like an appetizer of the potato variety

26 Feb

This sounds like an appetizer of the potato variety

To keep ourselves entertained, Jen and I have created a new inside jokey game. Actually, it’s not that new. Toddlers probably play it all the time. But it’s new to us! Basically, we try to outdo each other by texting nonsensical sentences to each other. Here’s a sampling:

  • Gouda shoes.
  • Massage the car into a ball of sumo wrestler.
  • How’s the day waxing sticky velvet? Jackrabbit! (My response: “Papaya.”)
  • Battery-powered quiz bowl with snowflakes of orange zest.
  • Mesh cats are in the rectory.
  • Plush fangs slip on some shower curtains.
  • Frankfurter disco nap.
  • Porkpie hats steal laser sauce! Unfortunately, the cactus whispers to the tugboat. It’s a neon pomelo.
  • Purple Pieman washes granola.
  • How many Milos does it take to roast a chicken? Silverware!
  • The celery stalks at midnight. Koo koo ka choo, Mrs. Robinson Crusoe.

Linguistically, the interesting thing is that as the game goes on, the nonsense begins to shape itself into sense. (“Mesh cats are in the rectory” was understood to mean that my plane landed safely.) If we keep this up, it’s only a matter of time before eep opp ork ah-ah means I love you.

Special promotional section!

19 Oct

Special promotional section!

Some time ago, Mr. Bitner sent out a call for entries for a book he was editing. Bitner is one of the more inspiring characters I know, simply because he’s always working on smart new projects. (Plus, we have this thing where we start each e-mail or phone call by saying each other’s last name, which I enjoy.) Anyway, the book, Cassette From My Ex, will be out next week. My friends Vincent and Jen each have a piece in the book, as do I. It’s a collection of stories of mix tapes from erstwhile loves, and if you are into music and/or tales of lost love, it should hold some appeal.

A play starring my mom

1 Apr

My parents came to town for a few hours yesterday. We had brunch at Ann Sather with Jen, Drew, and Traci. My mother fumed at my father because he had cat hair on the sweater. My father removed himself from all conversation not related to basketball. Mumsy kept calling Traci “Terri” for some reason, and she succeeded in embarrassing me greatly toward the end of our meal.

– – –


MOM: Have you heard about Annie’s crushes?!

JEN: Well, some—

MOM, interrupting: Well! On Monday she’s going to a concert with [established crush]. Now, you know Annie and how she gets nervous and overanalyzes things…

EVERYONE ELSE AT TABLE: Ha ha ha! No, you don’t say! Chortle chortle!

MOM: …but I think she should be confident with this one, because they have a lot in common. Now, she had told me about him last time I visited, and we saw him and I asked him about Fugazi—you know how she likes to tease me about me liking them—but she seemed convinced that he didn’t know she was alive.

ANNIE (mumbles): Moth-errr.

MOM: Well, I say he was just a little shy! So I put a Mom Hex on him! I just knew it would work! She has nothing to worry about. Now, have you heard about Whoa? Let me tell you about Whoa…

ANNIE: (crawls underneath table, dies)