Better days a comin'



This is a picture of our favorite eighty-year-old. He is on the left. Mr. H looks like him at times. When Mr. H gets all exercised about something, I might say "Do you know who you sound like?" Yes, he sounds like the man who once backed up on the interstate to retrieve a $1 coupon that whipped out the rolled-down window. Sometimes this man looked like a Kennedy. The other night he was planning to watch part 2 of a boring movie just to be annoyed at how boring it is.



And more of the puss and wet-dog look. What was I thinking about? If I had to guess, I was thinking about dogs. Now I think I could use a bang trim and a cone of silence. I really have nothing to complain about.

Posted 2:50 PM by Licketysplit

The curse of the baroque pearl



Mr. H insisted on dragging me off to Antarctica or Canada or Maine or wherever the hell we went. We went on a boat. There was weather on this boat. I am making a face about being on the boat. A puss. The paparazzi imortalized this moment several times over. I share it with you lest you think my life is such a heady whirl of glamour that I am unapproachable.

On the plus side, I saw some dogs. Many dogs. Dogs like me, and I like them.

We also saw an 80-year-old man who likes to talk more than he likes to listen. He told us a story about Saint John Paul and some intrigue surrounding Catholic priests and the government of Central America under General Samosa. Did you know Troy was found seven layers down? At the bottom of a seven-layer bar there lies a graham cracker crust. I know this because I was there. Turkey in the straw, Turkey in the hay. You used to have to take a boat across the Dardanelles. And now I guess you still do. How could so many people die in such a small area? One and a half million people on the beach in France. OK, it felt like a million. You could have driven to Paris. It was so close.

Posted 1:47 PM by Licketysplit

Land spreadin' out so far and wide



Eddie Albert died! I don't know if it is possible for me to ever enjoy a TV show as much as I enjoy Green Acres. Perhaps you enjoy it too. If not, I don't ever wish to speak with you again. Get bent.

Classic theme song (with pictures!)
French version (pictures again!)
Punk version
Rap version

Posted 12:01 PM by Licketysplit

It was a miracle of rare device



Oh, Internet. You are looking sallow today. Go outside! There is a patch of blue sky. But you care not for blue sky. You wish to remain adrift on your own personal Raft of the Medusa. Young people today. You never finish anything you start. Uh huh, I am talking to you. Remember when you started that zine? And that eyebrow piercing, that was hot. Thai cookery? Wooo.

***

Tom Cruise, you crazy fucking Scientologist, you are the new David Hager. Apparently, one should use vitamins to treat post-partum depression, and Brooke Shields is a total washed up whore for treating her PPD with Paxil. (Not a) Dr. Cruise goes on to say that "when you talk about emotional, chemical imbalances in people, there is no science behind that." I'll keep that in mind, thanks!

Tom, you are a motherfucking lunatic: witness the hooting and leaping during a recent Oprah appearance. Or not, because it's rather disturbing. His mid-life crisis seems to be right on schedule. Take some vitamins for that. Eat a raw pork chop and have a nap.

***

I am old, Internet. That freckle is a melanoma, I'm sure. My toe joints hurt when it rains. These white hairs are a sign of premature menopause (just ask my sister-in-law, she will tell you how my eggs are poached). I rap children on the knuckles with my platinum-tipped cane, and my eyebrows are drawn on up to my hairline. It's time to retire! See you in Pismo Beach. I need a chair to sit in while I shower.

Posted 10:25 AM by Licketysplit

Build an ark, fatty



What's up, Retardo Montalban? Yeah, you like that one? I thought of it in the drive through at Dunkin' Donuts. Sometimes I call the cat that, so you are not even worthy of an original insult.

In addition to my laundry and Zellweger duties, sometimes I like to take the car in for regularly scheduled service. The dealership pimps both Hondas and German Cars Assembled in Mexico, and today the waiting room was full of Honda people. Fucking Christ. They were all knitting and passing around Pampered Chef catalogs taken out of tote bags that came free with some mundane woman's grooming item purchase. This one douche bag took over several chairs with her "scrapbooking" gear. She was mutilating photos of her children by trimming with a paper cutter and then bedazzling them on pages made out of what looked like wallpaper samples.

So I scrunched down in a chair, holding an issue of Travel + Leisure two inches from my face, to protect me from the Honda rays. I was reading about truffles and figs and suckling pigs with brittle skin and restaurants I've recently eaten at, and Scrapbook Lady started blah-blahing to Knitting Lady (I am doing a writing thing that John Gardner hates here) about how it would be so great to travel to places like "Europe." And how she'd like to see the llamas some day. I am pretty sure you can go see some llamas in Jamaica Plain, but maybe she meant Lorenzo Lamas? At any rate (more crappy writing), a little man soon appeared and called me by my husband's last name. He called it several times before I realized Mrs. Mr. H meant me. I asked him what kind of car he had, and he said a Honda. Jerkass.

Posted 11:27 AM by Licketysplit

Today is like this



Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Did you know there are calories in food? I just found out about this. I am going to lodge a complaint with the maitre d'!

Don't worry, this personal homepage is still about Renee Zellweger. I just thought I'd mix it up with a Nicole. I got a million more Zellwegers.

Hey, let's talk about having sex with animals, in a totally non-topical way. Neal Horsley, anti-abortion wingnut who started the Nuremberg Files website to provide personal details about abortion providers, admitted to Alan Colmes that he'd had sex with a mule. But see, the mule wanted it. It was consensual bestiality, if not outright mule prostitution. Mules: they want to come over and bone us. I bet this is how the herpes spreads.

Ok, Zellwegers, I have to go buy organic fabric softener now.

Posted 12:36 PM by Licketysplit

Bang me until I whimper



Renee Zellweger attempts to blend in with her environment. Renee doesn't know that the shark in the next panel (not pictured) can totally see her. I have to look away now.

This personal internet homepage on the internet is now about two things: Renee Zellweger and laundry. Don't let anyone tell you different. Why am I doing six loads of laundry today? How did we get to be so dirty? Oh, right. You pig.

Posted 2:48 PM by Licketysplit

Just for a moment



Picture Renee Zellweger making a face as if she were smelling something really pungent and terrible.

Posted 2:32 PM by Licketysplit

If you need hep, heah i am

I recall that I threatened to tell a story about a crackhead and a toothless alcoholic, so here we go. Put on your damn water wings, and keep your hands inside the log flume. You repulse me. What are you, Renee Zellweger? I digress.

My sister-in-law's baby daddy (can't waaaait til they find this personal internet homepage) had a little on-again, off-again relationship with crack. I can see the appeal: smoke crack or listen to screaming? Dur.

But he is on the wagon and doing rather well now, and part of his success is going to NA meetings every night. He went to the first meeting, and was accosted during the smoke break by a toothless girl. She popped up faithfully during the next few evenings, bringing him cups of coffee and generally sticking like glue.

Then this girl told him she is twenty, and that she only goes to meetings to meet men. She doesn't actually have a substance abuse problem. She's just exploring her options.

This is a humorous enough story in itself, targeting recovering addicts to find love, but I told it to friends at dinner, and when I got to the toothless part, one dining companion stopped, looked thoughtful, and said "Ohhhh...PURE VELVET."

Posted 5:08 PM by Licketysplit

Shut your suck hole

I officially gots nothing. Mr. H said "well, don't post until you have something." But that defeats the entire purpose of the internet! My language and smartsing skills have painfully deteriorated. Know what's in my head? A pastiche of OMG OMG, look at that dog, somebody feed me. Do I feel like a fraud when anyone thinks I do a good job at anything? Yes. Is it good to allow that out on a page unchecked? Hell, hell no. I once knew how to punctuate and write without run-on sentences. I still do, honestly, but the problem is that I'm lazy as crap. And the internet allows me to splatter unedited offal every which-a-way. I don't even fucking spellcheck. This is bad, bad, bad. But then again, reading anything well-written on the internet annoys the crap out of me too, like the writer in question is just showing off. If I want sensitive and thoughtful, I'll go get a damn Jonathan Lethem book and eat a damn scone at the bookstore while I am doing that.

I have this sense of impending doom like you wouldn't believe. If the situation allowed, I would stay under the duvet all day and all night, only emerging for pasta and more of that $8 wine I like so much. Everything is post post post post everything else. McSweeney's and the internet, I hate you so much. I hate you, cheeky advertising copy. Driving in the car is so bad. Going to the store is so bad. Requiring chemicals to think normal things are actually OK: so bad. I go back and forth on that one. Rationally, I know existentialism is sneaking back up on me because I cut the amount of happy chemicals in my body. And blah blah, a diabetic isn't a bad person because he has to take insulin. A diabetic is a bad person because he cheats on his girlfriend! Or because he never finishes anything he starts and then complains about it. Shit, I am that diabetic. One day I will write a book called Lackluster Plans Started in Fits of Enthusiasm. OR NOT. Why'd Mom have to eat all that lead paint while gestating?

Posted 5:45 PM by Licketysplit

How hulk driving?

While the following may have nothing to do with anal sex, consider it painful and unexpected, in the spirit of David Hager.

Mr. H and I went for a walk t'other day, and we ended up close to a Dunkin' Donuts. Since I can never pass up corn syrup solids, I jabbed him in the ribs until he agreed to buy me a Dunkaccino. He's the one that carries the wallet on our little walks. I am not to be trusted. But he needed to use the ATM, and while he mis-entered his PIN with his monkey paws, I gawped at a sign that read "Atention Dunkin Donut's Customer's. Use ATM before making you'r purchase." I flailed and sputtered, and he laughed at me.

Then I noticed the sign on the other side of the beverage delivery bay: "Dunkin Donut's Customer's thankyou for you'r patience. All our machine's are working again, including latte's and gift cards. Thankyou."

Mr. H said that the sign was funny, but how bent I got was funnier. Fine! It took me many blocks to shut up about it, and that was only because I knew I could talk about it again on the internet. My drink sucked anyway. It was diluted with the tear's of the infant Jesu's. At least I hope that's what that was. You'r a jerk!

Posted 1:57 PM by Licketysplit

Jesus H.

Hello, buttketeers, I bring you a special weekend dispatch for Anal Sex Week. Actually, I may make this Anal Sex Month, as there is just so much material. Topical, like anesthesia, puttin' yo ass to sleep*.

Do any of you suckers out there remember Dr. David Hager? He is the wingnut Ob-Gyn on the FDA Advisory Committee for Reproductive Health Drugs who wrote books like Stress and the Woman's Body and As Jesus Cared for Women. He's all up on curing PMS with prayer, and he's against the morning after pill and basically any kind of hormonal birth control because these may cause abortionz.

Well, as it turns out, according to this Nation article, Jesus liked to put stress on a woman's body through the back door, the world's oldest form of birth control. The good doctor is accused by his former wife of sodomizing her against her will numerous times during their thirty-odd year marriage. He was apparently a fan of such seductive techniques as slipping it to her while she was asleep, or he'd pull the switch-up.

From the article: "He would say, 'Oh, I didn't mean to have anal sex with you; I can't feel the difference,'" Davis recalls incredulously. "And I would say, 'Well then, you're in the wrong business.'"

So there you have it, one of those "marriages where the man does nothing but fuck his wife up the ass." I'm not even saying such a thing would be a bad marriage, provided it's, you know, consensual. This guy wins the sanctimonious creep award, explaining the breakup of his marriage by saying "Time spent 'doing God's will' had kept me from spending the time I needed to nourish my marriage." Oh yeah. With a little lube and a please and thank you, maybe.

*Apologies to Ice Cube.

Posted 10:58 AM by Licketysplit

You say Tomato, I say Tomato



Good morning, jerks. Lookit, I'm not happy to be up this early either. Why don't you suck down some more of that flavored coffee that you like so much? What is it today, Cinn-a-Bon Surprise? You make me sick.

This really is a great week for assfucking, and I don't just mean around my house in gay, gay Massachusetts. So as not to be too topical, I waited a few days before rapping at ya about this one, but hold on to your tinfoil hats! Our Monkey-in-Chief signed a bill that basically establishes a national ID card, but it was pretty well-buried in a military spending bill. Check out H.R.1268 for a minute (PDF). Do you see it? Scrolllll down. Yes, past the olde-tyme-y font. Past supporting the troops. Past helping the tsunami victims. Past Payment to Widows and Heirs of Deceased Members of Congress. Past REMOVAL OF TERRORISTS. Oh, oh, there it is: Real ID blah blah blah (hint: page 72).

CNet says Senate approves electronic ID card bill. CNN says Bush signs $82 billion war funds bill. See the difference? The bit about ID cards is touched on as "It also prevents states from issuing driver's licenses to illegal immigrants." They even quote Ted Kennedy (oh Ted) blah blahing about how the bill strengthens something or the other in Iraq.

Now I am not about to do any original thinking, and neither are you, so check out this article on How Real ID will affect you. Read all threeeee pages. Then you can get back to your coffee. Hazelnut Hoopla?

Posted 11:31 AM by Licketysplit

Is time long or is it wide



THIS WEEK IN ANAL SEX: Ann Coulter Heckled Over Anal Sex

OK, so this was last week. Didn't I just finish saying I don't traffic in the topical? You will take this old news and like it.

Here's a response from the UT student who asked her "You say that you believe in the sanctity of marriage. How do you feel about marriages where the man does nothing but fuck his wife up the ass?" Yeah, hell yeah. Can you believe people do such unsavory things? Moderation in all things, people. I am pretty sure the pope is against this.

Ann Coulter seems to automatically make people think of anal sex. Witness I Fucked Ann Coulter in the Ass, Hard. Or not, it's kind of gross.

But let's talk about ME. I am still in my jammies, and there are empty wine bottles on the coffee table. Not from today. I had an antioxidant craving and a desire to protect myself from heart disease, and that's how they ended up there over the course of several days.

I am getting beyond tired of this "blogging." I am hell of busy with various schemes that are not to be talked about. I've got one good story left in me, and it stars a crackhead, a toothless alcoholic, and a vulgar phrase. So sit tight for that in the next few days, and then from there on I am planning to make this into a photo blog of pictures of myself taken in the mirror, or maybe I will post some movies of me yelling like a monster. Or I can just insult people. What would you like me to criticize about you today? I think you should moisturize your damn elbows. They are disgusting. Also: floss much?????

Posted 5:58 PM by Licketysplit

Holy god above mother of a monkey heaven swallow me up

One of these just ran by on the wall. And I was all oh you again, I thought I put you outside. It can stay until the cat notices it, but the cat is totally busy staring at that raccoon that's eating a chicken bone up in the tree outside the window. The cat likes the raccoon, and she likes the skunk, but she does not like other cats. I live on Mount Trashmore*.

So uh what else. I am fresh out of ideas here. And the topical is sooooooo irrelevant. You all know that we are going to die, and that we live in a ridiculous socio-political construct, so why do you need me to rub it in? I can't sustain a thought for that long anyway. Sometimes when I am driving around, I think "A.D.D. means America Deserves Doomsday." I also think about how much art exists only as pixels and electrons, and I wonder if that's a problem. I don't use paper for anything but wiping. What was me saying?

I could talk about anal sex, or I could talk about going to the grocery store and how that is a bad, irritating place. Or I could talk like Hulk, because I am in such a cranky mood. See, Hulk off happy pills because Doctor say "Hulk, you want to make green strong baby, not SPINDLY WHITE BABY, right?" And Hulk say, "Oh, Hulk guess so." Hulk not want to make baby anymore, this too much trouble. Hulk plan to adopt monkey cub and go back on sauce.

So what do you clams want me to talk about? Let me know, or suffer. Cuz I can vamp indefinitely. My current favorite wine costs $8. It is the 2001 Campo Viejo Rioja. We buy it by the bucket, and there is no accounting for taste. I could talk about apostrophes, because they get me so mad. Condo's and Apartment's. Sandwich's. OK, anal sex it is; the people have spoken. I hereby declare this Anal Sex Week. I think it's super, as do American teenage virgins and most people I know, except for my mother. How original. Call Katie Couric.

But seriously, Hulk hate the damn grocery store and the bad people one finds there. Hulk get flustered and purchase macaroni salad for some reason. Who wants to eat macaroni salad?

*Not true, but I have visited.

Posted 3:05 PM by Licketysplit

You load sixteen tons and what do you get



OMG. I was looking over the Vomitola archives recently, and I ran across a To Do list I wrote last year around this time. Have I accomplished anything in a year? NO!

Well, that's not true. I finished the wedding thank you notes*. I also have several great jobs, like a Jamaican, but mainly I describe myself as a "consultant" or a "woman of leisure."

We ended up with not so much a house as a hole in the ground that we can't live in yet, and I've conquered existentialism with the help of naps, pills, and new shoes. So what's left? The book is almost done, and I have that sitcom about the out-of-work trans-Pacific** pilot written. And for dinner, we are having leftover Chinese food, so that's covered.

I still need to do something about that fucking old 401(k), and I never filed anything. It's all in a pile under the guest bed. I still have to do laundry and reproduce, but my sister-in-law recently decided I'm infertile and told the whole family this is why we don't have kids yet, so maybe I am off the hook for that! Not the laundry, the reproduction. The laundry festers on, much like my barren womb.

And I realize I have a lot going for me. I have the long, graceful toes of a concert pianist, and my cat can talk. I may not have a special purpose, and one ear may be slightly higher than the other, rendering some styles of sunglasses unflattering, but that doesn't mean I'm not a good person. I wonder what I'll accomplish by next year? Flight? Breathing underwater? I know one thing is for sure, I'm going to work more on killing people through the Power of My Mind.

*Not quite true. I just realized we received a box of dishes a month or so ago. The note will read something like "And for an entire week, we just pulled dishes out of the box rather than run the dishwasher. Thank you!!!!"

**Transexual, too! It's Lost meets Wings meets Amanda Lepore.

Posted 10:09 AM by Licketysplit

Glamour kitty



Oh, internet. It's a big day. I have so much fucking laundry to do, and so much work to do, and I have to ingest some calories, and probably make a few trips to eliminate waste, and the house is dirty, but that has nothing to do with the waste. And it's almost Mother's Day, and that means I have to go get a wall vase from Pottery Barn that my mother-in-law has been coveting. My own mother is sensible enough to not want one of these. It's also my little niece's birthday, and her party is on Mother's Day. My sister-in-law is offended as all hell about this, like how dare someone usurp her day to receive crappy insincere cards purportedly written to her by her one-year-old. YOUR A GREAT MOM.

Yesterday I had road rage supremo, and I soon tired of shouting insults related to the term "colostomy bag." So Hulk growl and roar. This actually seemed to frighten people, and it made me feel a lot better. It was a tough day. I had to go to a funeral, and Google Maps steered me to Main Street in Springfield instead of West Springfield, even though I clearly entered "W" in my directions. I have the print out. Behold it. I finally found the place I needed to be through sheer Spidey sense, and all was well, or at least as well as it can be at a funeral.

But get this, the cat has finally learned to talk. If I say "Who's the Kitty!!!!!" she says "Mee!" We could do this for hours. If I say "Who loves Mommy?" she says "Mee!" If I say "Do you want cheap Canadian Lasik?" she says "Mee!" I am going to be so fucking rich. With all the money I save on Canadian Lasik, I mean.

Posted 9:27 AM by Licketysplit

Two, two, two days later

Than the last time I posted. Isn't that amazing? Soon it will be the future. And...um. I am listening to Devo. The internet is in such a good mood lately, probably because it's spring and the internet is getting mad laid. Just speculating. And maybe the internet got its hands on some painkillers as well.

Have you noticed how diligent I've been with taking my B-complex vitamins? Yeah, I am impressed too. My hooves and coat have never been shinier. I am not even going to taunt you by telling you that my gums don't bleed when I floss. Booyeah.

Yesterday I was talking to Northern Virginia, and I put NoVa on mute because it was the part of the meeting that didn't concern me, which is to say most of the meeting. Luckily I am a meeting cobra, and when something does concern me, I will strike. Wa-pow. And I had Oprah on, and Oprah was talking about pooping. This is one of my favorite topics evah. She had a doctor on the royal dais next to her, and he lifted up a medical-looking towel from a table and unveiled a normal colon and a bloated colon. That's right, if you persist in eating a terrible diet, your colon will distend and never bounce back. A colon can handle a lot, but we all have our limits. There were other good tips about pooping too. You would think this comes naturally, but not to some people. I was really pleased to have my own output validated by a professional opinion.

It's almost time to shriek Chinese at the people upstairs. I can't wait. You see a woman on the street, and you wish to approach her.

Posted 11:00 AM by Licketysplit

Some Argentines without means do it

Hi Internet, hi. It's May. Just saying. Still singing loudly around the house and considering the purchase of a double-tall Airbus. You?

My horoscope says "You must make your own luck today by careful consideration of the alternatives." Hmm. Such as: the alternative to making money is being poor, so I will do all my work. The alternative to starving to death is eating, so I will have some orange juice even though I don't feel like it. Eating: Love it when other people make the food for me. Otherwise: 2 lazy 2 live!!!! If the alternative to not going to the bathroom weren't exploding, I would never get up. OK, I force myself to trot around outside in a stupid outfit, but that doesn't mean i enjoy it. That's only prompted by vanity.

I nearly got pitched out my niece's dance recital. She was on near the end, I was nursing a slight hangover and pill withdrawal brain shocks, and the kids were all tappa-tappa-tappa, twinkle twinkle. The theme was "Hollywood," and each number was from a song associated with a movie. The emcee described "Pretty Woman" as a film about "opposites attracting." I thought it was about whores! Then seven-year-olds in red lipstick came out to shake it.

A class of teenage fat girls in voluminous tutus came out, and Mr. H had to restrain me as I jabbed him in the ribs. Turned out they all had Down Syndrome. My far vision has deteriorated to the point that all I saw was clumsy non-rhythmic lurching. I felt bad for snickering, but only a little. It was still a trial. Then the teachers all performed to "Batdance," and there was no stopping me. It must be quite the burden to be a bringer of culture to Chelmsford, Massachusetts. Mr. H made me go wait in the hall before I started laughing too hysterically, bribing me with the promise of a Frosty. I never got that, come to think of it. He wouldn't tell me about the rest of the show, only that it's good that I left when I did. Hulk can't help self.

Posted 6:45 PM by Licketysplit