Who’s your smoke daddy?

L and I just got back from our geriatric/Jadakiss sunny Florida vacation. As always, we had a good time – hanging out, laughing, drinking, laughing, drinking, reading, pool time, laughing, South Beach, Jadakiss, Rapper overload, spillin’ out butt crack sisters in string bikinis, laughing, ocean time, shelling, drinking, witnessing a real-life run away bride at the beach incident, laughing, reading, eating, listening to local Largos belt it out on the karaoke machine at the barbecue joint, drinking, catching up on movies, laughing, and watching “pimp my ride” (which now has me jonesing for outfitting my car with some spinners and Diamond-Nutz – fucking freaky cool!). I think if I pimp out my car, I most certainly will have to come up with a ghettofab sounding name. Hmm.

I hung out in Chi town for a couple of days – hitting a couple of clubs and caught up with L’s friend M. Too bad we missed T performing at Blues – maybe next time. My timing for a visit was perfect because it was the annual IML (International Mister Leather) conference. Lots of chaps and queens everywhere. Hilarious. I also bought a new CD by Van Hunt - hot! I love it.

I’m sending a big shout out to my ever-growing blog posse for hitting the 6 comments marker for the “Good Substitutions” posting (I should go away more often). So, major thanks to Pure Sugar Magic, Plum, Master B, Shatshat, Opie, and Bud Cort. You all totally rock!!! Speaking of rock, Joan Jett is coming to town on the 10th. That should be fun. You may want to pick up a WWJJD t-shirt before you go.

Other local news:

- My parents went to the local grocery store and stopped at the deli to ask if they had lox. The deli counter person said they only have one brand of small key locks but not combination type locks. Welcome to Central Wisconsin mom and dad!

- I’m living in “dance recital hell” for the next several days and I’m suffering from serious choreographers block. It sucks. My older kid piece is super sucky. I wish they had put “anonymous” under choreographer.

Next installation for the blog is "Bad Additions." So, put your thinking caps on for the next collaborative kick-ass list and send them to me.

Good Substitutions

Thanks to everyone who contributed to Part II of my Substitution/Addition series. A very special thanks to JD who contributed most of the good sauce in this list. You may be broke, jobless and your girlfriend’s in jail, but you know I’ll always love ya!

- New clothes for self-esteem
- Free drinks for poor service
- Jim Beam for Knob Creek
- Higher grades for thoughtful/detailed comments
- Crushing student loan debt for years of carefree abandon
- Daydreaming for work
- Joan Jett for Heart
- David Lee Roth for Sammy Hagar
- Methadone for heroin
- VX Fox station wagon for a pair of boots
- Adopting a 17 year old girl for a short term relationship with a younger woman.
- Two pieces of liver and a cardboard milk carton for pussy.
- Cocaine for sleep.
- One year of real life experience for seven years of "higher education."
- An e-card for a phone call to your mother on mother's day (Even if she doesn't have an e- mail address. That's not my fault. I thought it was the thought that counts anyway. Live in the now, Mom!)
- A magic 8 ball for religion.
- Stabbing your own eyes out for watching reality TV.
- Dreaming you live in a magical land filled with a field of clouds while galloping on a unicorn for watching Fox news.

Funeral Home Interlude

Our neighbor died last week. She was 99. The German and I met her a few times when we moved into our new house. She was not doing so well back then and moved to a nursing home soon after we moved into our house. Now, I have a death etiquette question for my readers. We want to buy her house because it not only has a garage, but a SECOND gigantic garage for all the German’s unusable cars, centrifuges, spectrometers and other mad scientist paraphernalia, which would allow me to park my car in our garage – something I’ve been dreaming about for 8 long years. Our neighbor's funeral was just this past Saturday, and we were going to call the nephew tonight, but it got too late, so we may try again tomorrow. Does anyone know a tactful way of expressing interest in the house and remorse at the same time? See, if we were in NYC, this place would already be gone, so I don’t feel too guilty about wanting to call. Plus, we want to control our little corner of the north side and create a compound – sort of like the Michigan Militia without guns. The funeral home does have a page on its site where you can send an online condolence - and you can even include clipart pictures of Jesus, angels, the Om, Star of David, the peace sign or the American flag. Maybe I should just send one of those with an asking price for the house? Hmm.

Now, if we buy the neighbor house then we will be vast landowners and can conceivably take over the neighborhood. And if M gets that job, then maybe Pilates Gate woman will move away, then N can take a day care break, and then I can take Pilates again and feel good about myself. See? It may all work out in the end to my advantage – because it’s all about me.

I am the worst choreographer known to mankind. I had a disastrous class this evening trying to furiously finish this piece – and guess what? You can’t choreograph in 10 minutes or less!! It may work for learning Chinese, but not for dance. I’ve actually been working on this piece for some time, but it just sucks. Maybe I’ll get the German to do some spontaneous science experiment on stage to distract from the wretched choreography. At least it’s not CATS. That would certainly be worse.

Fred and Ginger are having an “end of the year” party this week and I’m super excited because it will be a nice introduction to my week in Key Largo. I’m already in vacation mode mentally. I’m dreaming about really good fish tacos, some Cuban fare, sun, margaritas, bars on the beach, trashy reading, more margaritas, cabana boy staring and Shell World – the largest tackiest shell store in the United States!!!!! Does that kick ass or what? I just hope I don’t get eaten by any alligators. Seems to be an epidemic there right now.

Well, I’m still looking for material for my “Good Substitutions” list. If you have any that you’d like to provide, just leave them in the comments section and I’ll include them in the next installation.

BTW, will “J” ever fess up? I still don’t know who this mysterious person is that commented on my boots from ArtsBash and wanting me to wear an EMT outfit next year. Hmm?

Bad Substitutions

Thanks to M for the great suggestion of the “Bad Substitution” list. After a few beers, it turned into a four part series. This is a collaborative effort, so I'm sending a shout out to M, D, Other N, N, JD, A, and "Fashionable Librarian" M.

The following is Part I of the series (stay tuned for Part II – “Good Substitutions”):

Toilet paper for coffee filters
Q-tips for toilet paper
Black pepper for cocaine
Ground glass for cocaine
Bagels for cat food
Money for love
Jerking off for a real woman
Loveless but sexual relationship for soul crushing loneliness
Margarine for butter
Pepsi for Coke
Eckrich for Oscar Meyer
Tanqueray for Bombay Saphire
Aunt Jemima for Mrs. Butterworth
Lite beer for regular beer
George Bush for a monkey.
IcyHot for lube.
IcyHot for toothpaste.
IcyHot for hemorrhoid cream.
IcyHot should really only be used for sore joints.
The Bible for the Constitution.
Rock salt for deodorant.
Sandpaper for toilet paper.
Helen Keller for a tour guide.
Ted Kennedy for an AA sponsor.
Carrot Top for a comedian.
Yogurt for cream in coffee
Tampon paper for rolling papers
Dirt clods for rocks
Saran wrap for condoms
Masturbation for sex
Sex for masturbation

Bitchin' Lemons

My friend, D (aka JD), just moved to Madison from Chicago to sort of “be there” for his friend who’s in jail (long story). Anyway, when he first arrived, he thought Madison had a lot of crime and gang activity. He kept seeing people running down the street and just generally running around town. Then his friend told him that these people actually do it on purpose. He couldn’t believe no one was chasing them and that they choose to run on their own. I told him it’s called exercise. He thought it was super bizarre. It’s gonna take him awhile to get used to small towns. I had a similar experience when I moved to Madison and saw everyone walking in the same direction during the Farmer’s Market. That was really weird. Then I went up to Paul Soglin, who happened to be at the Farmer’s Market one Saturday, and he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt just saying hi to people. I was with my friend, P, and I shook his hand and said, “Aren’t you that weather guy on Channel 7?” He laughed and told me he was the mayor. I sort of looked around and asked him where his mayor “posse/security” dudes were, and he said he didn’t have any. That was the craziest thing I ever heard – a mayor with no security?? Dick Daley would never go for that. Crazy town.

Once again I had too much to drink Saturday night. I’m blaming it on N’s lethal margaritas. I’ve got to stop hanging out with these people who insist on getting me drunk every time I see them, and then all the librarian potty mouth shit just starts pouring out of me like a frickin’ fountain! Nuts.

Okay, I submitted my story, “Granny has curls,” so we’ll see if it gets accepted. It’s my first creative piece of writing – very conversationally-essay-type thing. What really pissed me off is that the very same day I submitted my story, my Vogue subscription arrived in the mail and what did I find in there? A story called “Granny takes a trip.” Okay, not really the same content, but close! Frickin’ Vogue posse bastards taking my story idea. Crazy fashionistas.

Only three more weeks before I’m basking in the sun in Key Largo at the posh resort (thanks to mom’s rich friends) with L. Can’t wait. I’m gonna collect shells and make a seashell frame and give it to the German for Christmas. He’ll like that. Especially if I can find a radioactive shell that he can explore with his Geiger counter (he has three by the way).

I totally dig that Google translator. It’s a riot. Here’s the translated text for an Italian lemon torte recipe:

“To spread the paste of one thickness of 1/2 centimeter and to foderare one stamp having cure to hold the high edges in a blink - to pour the cream to you to the lemon - to guarnire with the striscioline of paste - put into an oven all in the furnace preriscaldato to 180° for 45/50° in snow pasted to men.”

Good times.