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Moab Picks the 2014 Men’s NCAA Basketball Tournament

I have a friend named Moab. She is awesome. But, not just any kind of awesome. She’s unicorns, glitter, cupcakes, 20 random thoughts in under a minute kind of awesome! You’ll see what I am talking about soon enough. Anyways, I had a fun thought to have her fill out a bracket for March Madness. This is a good idea because:

A. She knows NOTHING about any other sport besides derby. “That’s the one where they throw the ball thingy and you can’t touch it with your hands but when it goes through the basket its a touchdown right??”

B. She has an incredible mind that can go from what fabric to use for a lovely sundress to wondering if buffalo wing cupcakes sound tasty.

Her train of thought absolutely amazes me. Truly, she has a mind that needs to be captured once in a while, the thoughts wrestled away from the speeding bullet of thought and put down on paper. Thus, I bring you Moab’s picks for the Second Round of the 2014 Men’s NCAA Basketball Tournament. Stay tuned for her “Pick the Winners” in the Third Round!

March 20th, 2014 – Day Games

Ohio State v. Dayton: “Ohio is gonna beat Dayton—-which will make the Dayton Moms sad.”

Wisconsin v. American U: “Wisconsin is gonna win…..because I’ve never heard of American University. I think they are a fake made up school.”

Pittsburgh v. Colorado: “Colorado beats Pittsburg because the Colorado people are generally more active and healthier, AND they are probably playing at a lower more oxygen rich venue—which kinda gives them super powers.”

Harvard v. Cincinnati: “Harvard is a bunch of serious, hyper competitive a-types….they CAN’T lose—- but, Cincinnati has more heart…and the WKRP theme song….I think Harvard underestimate the plucky spirit of the Cinci boys, fall behind early, lose their shit at halftime (do they have halftime in Basketball?) and eventually, will crack under the pressure. Cincinnati wins.”

Syracuse v. Western Michigan: “W. Michigan—-those are the Badgers right? Another close one—but I think winter in Syracuse has been less crappy. W Michigan loses.”

Oregon v. BYU: “BYU wins—2 words—magic underpants.”

Florida v. Albany: “Okay, well, Florida is gonna beat Albany because this winter has been terrible, and so those Albany guys have probably missed some practices, and winter can just bring you down….wear out our body ya know?”

Michigan St v. Delaware: “Michigan wins—Delaware is boring.”

March 20th, 2014 – Evening Games

Connecticut v. St. Joseph: “I love saints…I do….but, is this like St Jo Mo?? That place isn’t big enough for a really good sports team. Connecticut wins.”

Michigan v. Wofford: “Michigan has to win that one…because I can’t figure out how to pronounce Wofford. Woo Ford? Woof ord? Losers.”

St. Louis v. NC State: “OH—okay——St Louis/N Carolina——um……St Louis. Because I like that movie. Do you think they sing any of the songs at the games? I hope so.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpY4aebo62g

Oklahoma v. North Dakota State: “Seriously?? How many schools does Oklahoma have?? Do they ALL play basketball?? Eff you Okies—-North Dakota wins. (for the record—I plan to be wrong, but feel pretty smug about it)”

Milwaukee v. Villanova: “This is a fun game to say—-but I’m hoping for a Villanova/Gonzaga matchup…Villanova wins.”

Texas v. Arizona State: “Texas, obviously. TEXAS TEXAS TEXAS..KILL KILL KILL….oh….wait….wrong sport….ah well. Texas still wins.”

Louisville v. Manhattan: “Oh Manhattan—you’re so cool and hip. But they have more fresh air in Louisville. They win—but you can go console yourselves with really great bagels. So, is that really losing?”

San Diego State v. New Mexico State: “San Diego wins—they have a nice zoo and [my husband] Joe went there when he was a kid and had fun—-it must be a nice place.”

March 21st, 2014 – Day Games

Duke v. Mercer: “Duke—because I have heard of them—-they are the Blue Devils right (or am I thinking of SE Warren, [Iowa]?)”

Baylor v. Nebraska: “BAYLOR. Nebraska is dumb.”

New Mexico v. Stanford: “The Stanford guys are there for an education, not to play basketball—-New Mexico wins the game, Stanford wins at life.”

Arizona v. Weber State: “Arizona wins, but Weber has better tailgate food (get it….because of the grills?? eh? eh? hahahahaha)”

UMass v. Tennessee: “UMass wins—because I bet they have really good cheers—‘Who Mass?? U MASS!!’”

Creighton v. La Lafayette: “While I’m generally a sucker for any song with la la la in the lyrics, nobody can take a school or sports steam seriously with a name like la Lafayette. Creighton wins.”

Kansas v. Eastern Kentucky: “I have family in both places. Tie. (hahahaha—can they have a tie?)—-edit—Clara says no ties—so…Kansas”

Gonzaga v. Oklahoma State: “Gonzaga?? Gon-Za-Ga?? is that like cheese? Or Shriners? What the eff is a Gonzaga?? Whatever—sounds like a winner to me (only partly because I think that I already picked another Oklahoma school to win…and it’s only fair to share the wealth. Plus….well….it’s fun to say GON ZAAAA Gaaaaa!”

March 21st, 2014 – Evening Games

Memphis v. George Washington: “Tough one—good music/first president. In the end, George wins—-because they’re a little more serious. Less dancing on the free-throw line.”

Wichita State v. Cal-Poly: “Wichita wins, because nerds are bad at basketball.”

North Carolina v. Providence: “While I’m always a big fan of providence: (Definition of PROVIDENCE
a often capitalized : divine guidance or care 
b capitalized : God conceived as the power sustaining and guiding human destiny) I feel like this school has neglected to draw on the origin of their name. North Carolina wins.”

VCU v. Stephen F. Austin: “I never heard of VCU- even after I went to their website…so they lose. SF Austin wins that one.”

Virginia v. Coastal Carolina: “Uh—-seriously? Coastal Carolina sounds like a community college for lazy boat kids. Virginia wins.”

Kentucky v. Kansas State: “The Kentucky guys are gonna be pissed that their Eastern Kentucky cousins lost to Kansas, so they are gonna beat them. Suck it Kansas.”

Iowa State v. NC Central: “ISU wins…because, you know…self-preservation. Plus, what’s NC Central? Sounds like a sub-time zone. ‘Oh, we don’t participate in Daylight Savings here….we are part of NC Central’”

UCLA v. Tulsa: “UCLA/Tulsa is gonna be tough— the UCLA guys have the good looking California boy thing going for them, and the Tulsa guys are gonna really want to beat them. Can you foul out of Basketball? Because I feel like Tulsa’s best players might do that. But, in the end—-probably in overtime—Tulsa wins. Major upset. Tall blondes cry.”

ROUND OF 32 PICKS:

DAY ONE

Pittsburgh v. Florida:: “Life is tough in Pittsburg. The have had a terrible winter, and they’ve been in an economic downturn—bringing down the mood over all. The best place to escape that is the gym.. The bounce of the ball, the squeak of the shoes—makes the howling wind and collection calls seem far away. Florida is lovely—and it’s been overrun with tourists and Midwestern high school kids looking to escape the arctic tundra for college. All those new faces in the gym can be a distraction—especially the pretty ones. But the new recruits—the kids being recruited to take those roster spots—that’s pretty motivating. So it comes down to grit— What’s more powerful—the desire to escape or the need to keep the good life? Happy (almost always) wins. Florida takes it.”

St. Louis v. Louisville:: “Super excited about this one—the battle of Louis!! The singing, the dancing, the horses running through Arches!! (man—basketball games are WAY more exciting in my head than in reality) In the end, I’m gonna go with Louisville—because I didn’t actually know that St Louis had a college with a basketball team, and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of Louisville (are they the Lions? They should be) and you KNOW if I’ve got an inkling that a team exists, they have to be good. Or possibly imaginary.”

Texas v. Michigan:: “Texas is a football (and Derby) state- so I think the guys playing basketball for them are just cross training, waiting for football season to start up again. Michigan Wins.”

North Dakota State v. San Diego State (NDSU v. SDSU):: “WHAT? So. Many. Letters. This game is gonna be a debacle. Because the fans with the giant letter signs in the crowd will get mixed up, and the players won’t know where their Moms are…and you have to know where your mom is to play well. In the end, the California fans will sort themselves out (because they are used to crowds—the population density advantage) and SDSU wins.”

Dayton v. Syracuse:: “Those Dayton Moms—-they cheered SO LOUD yesterday—-and they WON! Momentum is gonna take these boys a long way and they are going to be PUMPED. Win to Dayton!”

Oregon v. Wisconsin:: “Beavers vs Badgers. HAHAHAHAHA Ahhh…. So, seriously….let’s visualize that fight for a minute. Badgers win…because they wear sweaters.”

** I told Moab that the Beavers are from Oregon State but the Oregon Duck mascot wears a sweater as well.**

“So it’s sweater wearing Ducks vs sweater wearing Badgers?? No effing way. That is HILARIOUS. A duck’s fighting advantage is in the wings—-have you ever been attacked by a duck? I have. After they charge you with the snapping bill (which is horrifying) they fly at you and beat you into submission with their wings. But if the duck is wearing a sweater, they lose that tactical advantage. Unless it is a sweater vest…and nobody ever won anything in a sweater vest (except those old guys who play golf) Badgers still win.”

Harvard v. Michigan State:: “Harvard surprised me. I figured they would be all constricted by their tighty whities and crack. They’re cool cats. (wait…hold on…let’s bounce back to the juxtaposition of undies and crack…giggle) Where was I? Oh—yes. Basketball. Harvard wins—they are in the zone.”

Connecticut v. Villanova: “UConn/Villanova—-this sounds like a battle between comic book villains. But no mere con-man can defeat the VillaNOVA—it is the ultimate evil explosion. Villanova wins :)”


DAY TWO

Kansas v. Stanford: ”Stanford University is prestigious and beautiful. The graduates are expected to move on to bigger better greater things—and they generally do. Your boss says he graduated from Stanford—you say— “oh—wow!”  if your boss says they went to Kansas—you maybe ask “Why?” or assume they are from there and it was the easy choice. The Kansas players have more to win—and more reason to fight for it. Kansas wins.”
Wichita state v. Kentucky: ”Wichita is a dirty town—like a giant truck stop (my grandparents lived there for years—Grandpa owned a trucking company), whereas Kentucky is lovely and green with rolling hills, leafy trees and fancy horses. I don’t want to visit Wichita, but I’d go to Kentucky—so they win this one.”
North Carolina v. Iowa State: ”ISU had a top player break his foot yesterday (or sometime) I know this because my cousin Allie was the baton twirler and her husband Shorty was in the band (trombone?) and I had breakfast with them, and a lot of extended family yesterday morning. I have spent the last couple weeks playing without key members of my team, because they have gone down with injuries—and it SUCKS.  But they only lost one guy. And I bet he gets to sit on the bench anyway. I’ve seen our team step up, play harder and better to fill the void left by an injured player. And I think ISU will, too. Iowa State wins.”
Tennessee v. Mercer: ”This sounds like a legal case. (to be read in an old timey southern drawl) ”Mr. Charles Mercer has declared himself and his farmland an independent entity- not a part of or governed by the State of Tennessee. His boys Charlie Junior and Rhett have been taken into custody for unlawfully charging fees for the use of the road cutting through their farm. Mr. Mercer plans to, against the advice of the judge and county attorney, represent himself.”
Mr. Mercer is crazy.  Tennessee wins.”
Steven F. Austin v. UCLA: ”Okay—so I said that Austin was gonna win last time—before I knew it was Steven F. Austin. Seriously. Who is this guy? So, Wikipedia helped me out. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_F_Austin —he’s like the King of Texas, and probably a huge reason that the south even exists. Cool.  Unfortunately, that’s not about basketball… UCLA wins.”
Baylor v. Creighton: ”Oooo—-I don’t know why this one is exciting—but I feel like it is. And it’s Southern Baptists vs Catholics—-on a Sunday….during Lent….Who do you think God is cheering for? Since I’ve always thought that Baptist church was like a pep rally—I think Baylor wins this time.”
Virginia v. Memphis: ”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfrdQV2UZG4 vs http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLKs3V2XL6Q  Memphis wins—the song is catchier—reminds me of a 40’s movie musical. Plus…Go Wahoos? WAHOOS?? Seriously Virginia-don’t you have enough problems with vagina jokes—do you HAVE to have your mascot be a euphemism?”
Arizona v. Gonzaga: ”I LOVE the Zs in this game….so much fun to say. I’m still pulling for the Gonzaga championship. I am hoping it will mean I can get a cheap Gonzaga!! sweatshirt at a gas station. A girl can dream right? GONZAGA WINZ!!”

SWEET 16

Dayton v. Stanford: “These are the Dayton FLYERS (I was excited…because it made me think about radio flyer wagons….but, without clicking more, I’m betting it has something to do with airplanes—-which is also cool) and the Stanford CARDINALS AND (man—google is so handy) they are (were?) ranked 9 and 10….which is pretty awesome. I don’t know which is which—but it really doesn’t matter. ANYHOO- I think Dayton is going to win—they are so hyped up—and, well, I’ve heard people talk about Dayton, but nobody is saying anything about Stanford—which means they have the momentum and will win. Yeah.”

Baylor v. Wisconsin: “Badgers vs Bears—do the bears wear sweaters too?…..brb…google…NO SWEATER—-and it isn’t a cute cuddly bear—-it’s a rip your face off and eat your brains bear. Baylor wins.”

UCLA v. Florida: “Ooooo—-palm trees vs palm trees! I feel like UCLA has got the edge here…I’m not sure why. Maybe because citrus season is pretty much done, but the California crop season is in full effect—-have you HAD any asparagus yet this spring?? It’s fantastic—and I think it’s being harvested in California right now. Good vegies = good basketball. UCLA wins.”

San Diego State v. Arizona: “Aztecs vs the Wildcats—-YES—-like in High School Musical Wildcats. Emma is set to audition for the community theater production of HSM, so, in support of my kid, I’m gonna say http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvc97NcsedI

Tennessee v. Michigan: “I’m sorry—the VOLUNTEERS? Who makes their mascot the “volunteers”?? Why not “overbearing PTO parents” or “book club leaders”?? Snort—Wolverines win….obviously.”

UConn v. Iowa State: “Iowa State is going to win this one. They have “Swag” and their coach can dance. Dancing coaches and Swag beats whatever UConn has. Which is a dumb name. I don’t even need to know what the mascot is.”

Kentucky v. Louisville: “Oooo—it’s another in-state rivalry! Fun times! Cardinals/Wildcats—wow….I’ve got nuthin’. Uhhhhh….I feeeel like…….um….Cardinals? Are they bird cardinals? Or, like, pope cardinals? Birds. Yeah—it’s springtime. And the cardinals are the chirpiest birds in the barren hedges…so, YES. Cardinals win. Which is…..um….Louisville. Yep.”

Michigan State v. Virginia: “O—— Google tells me that Virginia is ranked (or seeded—is that the same thing?) 1 and Michigan State is #4…so logic dictates that the Virginia Cavaliers will win—nut….logic schmoglic…The Michigan State team is the SPARTANS. I love that movie (the 300) and actually really need to find it to watch before our bout this weekend.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDiUG52ZyHQ Oh— basketball—right….Michigan wins.”

Ode to my secret poo palace

Oh, office toilet stall, how I love thee.
You’re secluded and quiet and
When I need a secret place to poo, you’re always there for me

You’re warm burnt ember colored stall soothes me on spicier days.
And your prolonged flush when I hold down the button is just what I need when things are party rocking down there in the house tonight.

Your walls may be thin but when I hear a guy in the men’s room giving three or four curtesy flushes, it’s eases my mind. I know that I, too, should flush one down.

When my time is up, the journey is not yet over. You automatically give me a red light wink and a smile, and flush her down one more time, just to make sure. Even your lighting makes my cheek bones look good in that slimming mirror.
I leave for you now, but you know…. You know I will be back ten minutes after my next meal. Until then, I bid you ado, my love.

I Don’t Want No Scrub, Part 1

The earth has opened up and spewed all of its broken, mismatched, and unwanted household items onto the curbs of suburbia. On the curb in front of once cluttered homes you can find beautiful blossoms of broken down grills, old kitchen chairs, oodles of moving boxes, and war-ravaged children’s toys. This event, the most perfect embodiment of the saying, “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” is called Scrub Day where I come from.

The purpose of Scrub Day is, of course, spring cleaning. For no extra charge, the city will come once a year and pick up all the trash you can squeeze into the space between the sidewalk and the street. But the real excitement happens after suburban mom’s have the go ahead to start piling their trash on the curb. It’s a quiet buzz at first, but you can’t miss the swarm of loaded down, beat up trucks appearing early in the morning. I first saw this exotic phenomenon while walking my pet capuchin monkey, Cappuccino, early one weekday morning. The treasure hunters made pit stops at each new trash pile, jumped out of the cab, and excitedly examined all the tantalizing items to see if they can turn a profit off of something. If they found an item worth the while, they would load it into the bed of their truck. Which reminds me, engineers should really start studying how these treasure hunters pack that much crap into one truck bed. Their bungee cords defied the laws of gravity. And, the intricate weaving of chairs into grills, into kids’ play things, into half mangled bikes creates a wonderful piece of art that would sell for thousands if it were sitting at an art show in an uppity New York suburb.  

While I myself was mesmerized, Cappuccino was not a fan of these treasure hunters. Every time one would jump out within ten feet of us, Cappy would swing and hiss at the man as if to say “I am King of this mountain-o-trash. Go find your own, Hussy!”  So I thought it best to take Cappy down a quieter street with only one pile of lonely trash.  The pile was in front of a small, secluded house and consisted of a couple mattresses and set of beat up throw pillows. It had been raining for three weeks now, so no treasure hunter in their right mind would waste gas to come check out this pile of rain soaked fabric. Cappy and I were strolling by the pile when all of a sudden a flash of something shiny caught my eye. It must have caught Cappy’s eye too because he ran towards the pile of throw pillows and CLUNK! Cappy ran right into a solid object, bounced backwards, and sat up looking dazed and confused. He hit the object so hard the throw pillows flew off onto the sidewalk, revealing a magnificent mahogany desk.

The desk was amazing! My days of watching Antique Roadshow finally paid off as I determined the desk to be a neoclassical early 20th century tulipwood Louis XVI writing table with black triple-section tooled leather top surmounted by a substantial beveled bronze border over a paneled frieze containing a narrow center drawer flanked by deeper side drawers with false drawers on the opposite side. What an exciting find! So naturally, I run home and grab my radio flyer wagon to haul this piece of work back to my house. It took some doing and teaching from fellow, albeit less aggressive, treasure hunters to bungee my way to a successful rescue of this priceless artifact.

Once I got home, it was time to search for hidden treasure inside the desk. The first drawer was a total bust. All I found was dust and an odd looking stain that resembled interlocking male and female sex symbols. It was kind of weird but also reminded me of a story my mom told me about when she was pregnant with me. My mom and dad were sure that I was going to pop out as a boy. They even had a cool boy’s name, like Magnum Diesel, picked out for me. But then when I came out a girl everyone was surprised. My four year old sister was so shocked by both the fact that I was a girl and the realization that she was no longer the only child that she promptly told the doctor to put me back where I came from. Apparently, he decided against that and there I stood, 28.5 years later, shutting the dusty and stained drawer.

The next drawer I looked in had more to offer than the first. There was a little soccer ball key chain attached to a Toyota car key. Oddly enough, with this find came another memory.  When I was two years old my parents took my sister and I with them while car shopping. We ended up at the Toyota dealership looking at shiny new Novas. I had to go potty real bad and so my mom had my sister take me to the restroom. Apparently, I was somewhat of an independent child, as less than five minutes later there I went running across the Toyota showroom with my undies and pants around my ankles screaming about how I could go potty like a big girl and I didn’t need any help from big sis. Obviously, my parents purchased the car and got the hell out of there. I’m pretty sure my parents we too traumatized to take us back to another dealership and we ended up keeping the Nova until it died ten years later.  I take pride in the fact that I was the first two year old to be banned from a Toyota dealership for indecent exposure. Later in life, it helped me relate to Pee Wee Herman on more than a childish entertainment level.

Feeling a little creeped out by this point, I shut the second drawer and hesitated moving on to the third drawer. Perhaps it was time to break for lunch.

To be continued….

What I Think About at Work

What if I threw red Kool-Aid on people who wear Tevas with light wash jeans, claiming they’re “murdering our youth’s fashion sense”?

What if I opened up a bake sale tent at the farmer’s market and sold “Low-fat, low-calorie” brownies for gas money? Only my secret ingredient is a dash of deceit followed by a pinch of reality… cause these brownies are right outta the box, son.

Why does Elton John have to look so gay?

Why isn’t their more adult clothing with penguins on it? I want a pair of jeans with purple penguins dancing up the side. Better yet, athletic shorts with a big purple penguin on one ass cheek.

What the hell does Kraft put in their mac and cheese to make me twitch in withdrawal after not eating it for a week or two?

Why am I suddenly a Spaniard, needing a siesta everyday at 2pm? Is it the change in my hormones? Am I also going to start rolling my Rrrrrrrrr’s? Cause I’d be okay with that.

Why aren’t we taking more cues from India? These people invented the KAMA SUTRA for Pete’s sake?

What is it about Pete that makes us want to do everything for his sake anyways?

Why hasn’t someone written a book on the history of tampons? Or dildos? Two books which I probably would purchase online, anonymously.

Why do people still use the expression “close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades”? No one knows what horse shoe rules are. Just say, “Close only counts in atomic warfare and whoever smelt it dealt it”.

Is it wrong that I wake up in a sweat everyday and then use that as my ‘workout’ to justify getting ice cream every night?

Why do companies still send spam to my inbox? It doesn’t make me want to use your product; it makes me HATE YOUR COMPANY.

Who created the word blog? It makes me think of a clogged toilet…. Am I right?!?! Think about it.

Why is it that about 95% of the decisions in my life are based on whether I like the colors of something, if it is pretty, or if it smells good? Favorite teams, food, clothing, cars, house, significant other, books, movies, kid I adopt… I could go on listing the remaining items that compromise 95% of my life but you get the point.

Funny Joke

Three men were sitting together bragging about how they had given their new wives duties.

The first man had married a secretary and had told her that she was going to do dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple days, but on the third day he came home to a clean house and dishes washed and dinner cooked.

The second man had married a school teacher . He had given his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes, and the cooking. The first day he didn’t see any results, but the next day he saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done, and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man had married a rollergirl. He told her that her duties were to keep the house clean, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn’t see anything, the second day he didn’t see anything, but by the third day some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, enough to fix himself a bite to eat and load the dishwasher.

I’d Like to Solve the Puzzle, Pat

Let’s talk about the letter “H”. I am not particularly fond of this letter. Did this dislike originate in my youth? Perhaps as a result of a poorly planned or particularly bland episode of Sesame Street featuring the letter H? Does it have something to do with the sound of the letter? Or the painful facial expression one has to make when sounding it out?

Let us discuss.

This dislike must have come in my youth because, for as long as I can remember, H has been in my “ugly letters” group. This group also includes B, O, P and occasionally D. Does the dislike have something to do with my last name? Heck… the good version of Hell. How many times have I repeated that in my life?! But I don’t have a problem with E, C, or K. Did it have to do with learning how to write the letter H? I can see 5 year old me drawing the two vertical lines. Then Teacher says, “Now draw an intersecting line!” And me wanting to just keep writing parallel lines, because let’s face it - I’m on a roll here, it’s pretty and it doesn’t slow me down to keep making vertical lines. I don’t want to go back, put my pencil down on the paper, think about it, and then have to draw a line across two other lines. I could fill this paper with short vertical lines in under a minute if Teach would just let me do my thing. But nope, I have to interrupt this beautiful flow of marking to go back and start all over again.

Then there’s the phonetics. Just saying “aitch” puts an instant grimace on one’s face; a sort of painful, surprised look with slightly squinted eyes. If you work the eyebrows into it, you might even be flirting with ‘horrified’. But, it’s not just the expressive pronunciation that bothers me. Even the ancient version of “H” doesn’t sit well. The Phoenician symbol for H looks like a rectangle, halved horizontally. Or in other words, a square butt turned sideways. Two building blocks stacked on one another. Two cells dividing, if cells were square.   Or, a Lego window…. A Lego window! I hated Lego windows! I always had to precisely plan the walls so that the bricks lined up just right to squeeze in the window. And then, after all that work, I always miscalculated and ran out of bricks to completely encompass the window in the wall. So, of course, all my pretty little houses were converted to fortresses, with the staggered wall tops. Dumb. I really hated Lego windows. “Hated”… Starts with an H.  

I also don’t understand the frivolity of H. Silent H’s? We put this letter into words where it serves no other purpose but to extend words? That just pisses me off more.  I have a friend named Meghan. The pronunciation is meg-an. Not meg-han. She told me it’s the Scottish spelling. I get that. So really the H is significant in that it represents her Scottish heritage. Which leads me to think - are silent H’s more than simple letters? Do they are bear the linage of words and people and things? Do they teach me about an object or person’s history through that one symbol?

Great. Now H is fucking with my head.

Cappuccino the Capuchin Monkey: A Letter

Dear Mother and Father,

About two months ago I went to the exotic pet store and picked me up one of those Capuchin monkeys. After a lengthy debate with my roommates, two extra large farm cats, I decided to name him Cappuccino. I figured this was an appropriate name since I had plans of making him my servant monkey and he’d probably be getting me a lot of those.

Our relationship is actually turning out to be more of a mutually beneficial kind of thing. See, I make him cute monkey outfits so he isn’t cold in the winter and he follows my commands pretty well. Like, “Monkey! Go fetch my Diet Mountain Dew, please.” And off he goes, hopping and dancing his way to the fridge where he grabs a soda. Then he pulls open the drawer to get my, “Not now, I’m watching the game,” beer koozie cause he knows how mama likes it. I feed and play with him. He cleans the tub. I walk him and he vacuums. We also cuddle at night sometimes. I think it’s good to form the mother-monkey bond, ya know? Although, this recently backfired after we ate some pastrami sandwiches last week. I had to wash the sheets after that.

Lately, I have been training him how to wash and fold laundry. I told him that for every piece of laundry he washes and folds, he gets a treat. I don’t know if he understood because one day I came home and he was wearing my underwear and riding one of the cats. Then it got kind of awkward when I noticed he had my computer on and the xtube website was up. So I told him no more laundry, I could probably take care of that. I also found he had aggressively colored on all my Curious George books. Guess Monkeys get jealous, too.

By now I feel like Hunky Monkey, my cute little nickname for him, probably needs more to do during the day. So, I put an ad on Craigslist for his breeding services. The phone won’t stop ringing. He has had day dates every single day this week! I drop him off at the little lady’s home on my way to work, get a call at lunch with updates, and go pick him up after work. He is basically Ghengis Khan’ing all of central Iowa. Within the next three years, every young Capuchin Monkey around here will hold his DNA. That’s great and all but I’m just happy he passes out as soon as we get home. Then mama has all night to herself. I don’t like distractions while I’m watching CSI and Hunky Monkey really knows how to push my buttons.

Cappuccino has a really promising future. We’ve already discussed our plans to open up an exotic pet store/fake front for a brothel. It’ll be called Monkey ‘N Me. The secret saying to get in the back is, “pork n beans,” and then Monkey takes the patron to the back where they can do whatever they want. Monkey said it would be an extra $25 if he is to participate. Anyways, I have to take this call. It’s one of lil Man’s regular lady friends. I will write more later.

Love,

Your Daughter

With Roller Derby Come Bruises. And With Bruises Come the Face of Jesus

So, for the past four months or so, my body has taken a beating. Roller Derby has introduced a never ending cycle of purple bruises to the fattier parts of my body. My spleen is in overdrive trying to accommodate the loss of blood to my epidermis. But, I love the sport and I love my temporary battle scars. I will call them battle sc’rs since they aren’t real scars. This ideology is similar to vegetarian “chicken” named chik’n.

Producing a vast array of mosaics on my thighs, hip and arms, these sc’rs are now a source of pride and motivation for me. “Get better and you’ll have less sc’rs. Get better and people won’t scream every time you drop trou.” But then I got to thinking about the pretty patterns this rogue life blood makes under my skin. It’s always something different. Shaded here, lighter there, yellow over there? I’ve come to the conclusion that eventually, given enough opportunity, the laws of physics and chance will give rise to the face of Jesus in one of my battle sc’rs. There is no doubt in my mind. If it can happen to cinnamon rolls, trees, and some famous shroud then it can happen in a bruise. And why not mine? I feel somewhat connected to a man who walked on water. I mean, I used to row, for Christ’s sake. So what then? What happens when I get a bruise with the face of Jesus in it? Do I email MSNBC.com? Perhaps start local? Do I cover myself in white cloth, draped strategically, to allow the masses to come view the Holy relic in my thigh fat? What happens when the bruise fades? Do I keep pounding the flesh to extend His stay?

The way I see it, only time and enough booty blocks will tell.

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