How eagerly we await the imminent return of the Licketysplit! I have word that she is hanging her coonskin cap back on its peg, ailment packing up her weasels and heading back up North. But I have not been privy to further details of her whitewashing of fences or sailing wooden rafts down the muddy crick. I will know she is coming when I hear the clack of her stick, spinning the wagon wheel as she saunters, shoeless, back to town.
xo
Our dear Licketysplit is on the road to Richmond. Even as we speak, she might be squaredancing the living room of her mammy and pappy. Let’s hope she brings back a confederate flag like the one we stole from the grave of Gen. Matthew Fontaine Maury. Come to think of it, that was a fruitful expedition- on that same trip, we also stole a Mars Attacks! poster from a D.C. subway platform.
How I can make up for her temporary absence is unclear. Perhaps I will have to resort to posting nudie pics!
Oh, and listen to this song
xo
Starboy (me!) was asked to come out and DJ at the Subversiv, a punk dive bar, on saturday. Last time this meant an assault upon my person, but this time it went swimmingly. The party was lovely as an umbrella drink! That dress came with a fortune cookie, which i have just cracked open now, and it reads.
“Rely on your Intuition.”
My intuition. Right. Well, I am concentrating very hard, getting in touch with myself. I will let you all know when my intuition divines something other than- “My, what a tasty cookie!” and “wouldn’t it be great to wash that down with another drink?”
Cunning linguist, eh? Shove some of that over this way, pronto!
smooch
O Licketysplit! Steele may preside over my table (and so charmingly does he do his napkin folds- like seashells!) but I shall never forget you. After all, it was together that we pelted Culture Club concert goers with melted sweets to test the strength of the candies themselves. It was with you that I huddled under billiard tables or brazenly bore the scrutiny of the police as we cut a sluttish path through the combat zone in quest of snack treats!
I will enjoy Steele’s footrubs and rounds of miniature golf for another week or so, and then my friends may have my attention once more. You really cannot wonder at my current state of absorbtion. He wears cable knit sweaters and gave me ermine socks for my birthday!
smooch
I am a social scientist- last night I discovered this weird kind of norwegian schnapps, called Aquavit. It was offered to me by a drunk norwegian writer who proceeded to quote Rimbaud shortly before he fell under the table. The Rimbaud was actually very nice and the Aquavit surprisingly tasty for a culture that eats fish steeped in lye. This was after I went to see the film Life is Shit. err, I mean, About Schmidt. I laughed, I cried, I had to see kathy bates naked. Ponderous mams on that woman. Lastly I went to an oriental lounge with tables cordoned off by gauzy curtains where you lay about on sofas covered in satin pillows and drink chartreuse and smoke the hookah. It was all so very August Strindberg. I have a bit of the existential ya-ya’s today.I ought to rent myself a cheery film like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
smooch
I’m done with being a scrappy newsie. I just don’t have the energy these days. I’m reinventing myself as a symbol. Refer to the floating feather meant to indicate Dan Quayle in Doonesbury. Yes, I’m just that sluggish. I feel like someone is reading a narration of my daily activities in the voice of Goliath from Davey and Goliath. “Oh Davey…”
My horoscope for yesterday said “There seems to be some danger from a weapon or sharp object and you can also burn yourself or receive a bite from a dog. Avoid situations that are risky. Disappointments may be indicated especially in financial matters if your expectations are too high.”
Jeez. Why get up? But then someone sent me this link: Man complains bad rope spoiled his suicide, and I had to giggle. I thought of one of my favorite Dorothy Parker poems:
“Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.”
Anyway, horoscopes are for shit. Because yesterday I made it through wholly unscathed! And I got an unexpected check in the mail for an invoice I forgot I sent! But today, jebus. It only warned against going to the bad areas of town. But so far I’ve managed to cut the inside of my mouth with a piece of bread (why aren’t people boycotting Au Bon Pain and their hazardous French crusty bread?) and get embroiled in assorted other dramas not of my creation.
My mouth hurts. This entry is approaching LiveJournal-like banality, eh? Speaking of crappy blogs…check out www.ragingcow.com. Dr. Pepper is behind this as part of marketing their new “Extreme Milk” beverage line. I shit you not. Some people are all up in arms about blogs being exploited for marketing purposes. To that I say “sign me up!” If the makers of Fancy Feast want to contact me to talk about how much their product changed my cat’s life, swell! How about this, I’ll extol the virtues of your product for US $5 per mention. Any product. Clorox, Tampax, Exxon, you name it. Bring it!
xxoo
Today only! Interview with a folksinging exposure victim!
Notorious T.I.M.: I almost died today waiting for the redline at Harvard..
Notorious T.I.M.: folk singers
Licketysplit: no!
Notorious T.I.M.: you would have gotten such a laugh
Notorious T.I.M.: there is this new pair
Licketysplit: worse than carnies!
Notorious T.I.M.: man and woman
Notorious T.I.M.: they sing in harmony
Notorious T.I.M.: he plays guitar
Notorious T.I.M.: so after seeing that preview I’m dying laughing
Licketysplit: how revolting it must have been for you!
Notorious T.I.M.: the T was backed up so I got stuck listening to like 5 or 6 songs
Notorious T.I.M.: I came in at “River runs deep”
Licketysplit: holy shit
Notorious T.I.M.: which had the same chorus over and over that said “deep” like 8 times
Licketysplit: do they do this kind of thing to be *funny*?
Notorious T.I.M.: river runs deep, the river runs deep, deeper than the deep valley to the deep sea, river runs deep
Notorious T.I.M.: no
Notorious T.I.M.: I don’t think so
Notorious T.I.M.: then there was “hercules and einstein”
Licketysplit: oh man i’m cracking up
Notorious T.I.M.: then they broke into “give a little kindness”
Notorious T.I.M.: which had the best line of “loving your neighbor/ looks good on paper”
Notorious T.I.M.: “but its really hard to live that way” or something
Notorious T.I.M.: I didn’t think it could get any cheesier but
Notorious T.I.M.: then came “You’ve got to have a backup plan”
Licketysplit: gack!
Licketysplit: nothing like starting your day on a totally surreal footing
Notorious T.I.M.: it’s main chorus line was something like “you’ve got to have something to fall back on, you have to have a little something on the side”
Licketysplit: did you write this shit down?
Notorious T.I.M.: so sometimes he starts in with his light guitar playing and sings, then she comes in and they sing in harmony the rest of the song
Notorious T.I.M.: haha, no I just had to listen for so long
Notorious T.I.M.: I tried to remember on purpose because I had to tell you
Licketysplit: i am so glad you did!
Notorious T.I.M.: I’ve seen them like twice now
Notorious T.I.M.: but today I listened
Licketysplit: this is totally reviving me from my marginally hungover state
Notorious T.I.M.: they were straight out of the movie [A Mighty Wind]
Notorious T.I.M.: they made me want to jump in front of the next train
xxoo
The prodigal Lambchop has ants in the pants. I used to have that game, springing the colored plastic bits into the blue bucket overalls. Now there’s a way to spur the imagination of a young girl! Between that and my Cooties set, I was braced for My First STDs by the age of 9. Anyway, what does that have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing! What I really mean is I am ready to blow this pop stand. Pack up the makeup case and the bunny and pull up anchor. Lickety, I can count on you to slaughter the fattened calf! and some of those little finger sandwiches you like so much.
Alright stick a pin in that little thought balloon- I have to get some work done.
But to all of those who attended the candlight vigil beneath the window of Lickety’s sick chamber, I thank you. And it is my pleasure to announce to all in that she has not only NOT died, but we managed to save the leg as well! Thank the stars for our friends and consumers of detritus, the maggots! You should have seen hope alight in our young patient’s face as we packed the wound with larvae and watched them munch their way through the poisoners of her flesh.
smooch
I get the best spam ever. If that subject line doesn’t entice one to read on, whatever will? I guess my second choice would have to be “26 pics of teen girls getting ass reamed in the ass.” I applaud that for both specificity and redundancy.
Say, Lambchop, thanks for reminding me of MLK day! I just realized I shot my Black People Love Us wad a day too early! Silly me! I suppose I should cast about for a Little Black Sambo fan site or something to make up for it, but I fear public outcry. Speaking of the public, should we post email addresses? I would love to get some reader mail going, maybe some problems we could publicly address!
Sample letter:
Dear Lambchop and Licketysplit,
I’m torn, befuddled, and perplexed! My boyfriend wants nothing but anal sex. And I know I’m supposed to be *gay,* but it just doesn’t do it for me! What should I do?
signed,
Scaredy Cat
Sample response:
Dear Puss In Boots,
You should do what we always do: Poppers! Failing that, try to strike a balance of the finer things in life. Take some time out in your relationship to try a new flavor of iced tea, or listen to that new Starbucks Jazz CD compilation. Lambchop has been known to loosen up by rearranging her living room, perhaps trying a new fabric softener. And I like to achieve ultimate relaxation by arranging my book jackets by color. Soon you’ll be but a puddle of a man, ready to trip trop the anal staircase. And should you feel any trepidation, lie back and think of the Snuggle Bear! Ease into the rooting and tooting, you’ll learn to love it as much as we have.
xxoo
L & L
So come on readers, dial us up on the ol’ interweb! We are here to help!
xxoo
This article is promenading me down memory lane: Fifth-graders accused of poisoning attempt
Ah, the grand tradition of attempted murder. I myself have only tried to kill 3 people. All were unsuccessful, although my sister still has a pretty good scar. Well, I guess that could be downgraded to “almost killed by accident.” But the other two, oh man. There was one roommate who shall remain nameless…the other roomie and I used to take her perishable food out of the fridge and leave it on top of the dishwasher to warm up ever so slightly. She must have wondered why we had our own jar of mayonaise marked with our names. That didn’t seem to work, so we took to dredging her toothbrush in the commode from time to time. Surely we never rose to the heights of this young gentleman, but we gave it the old college try, so to speak.
Lesson learned: if your roommate keeps his or her own toothbrush in a lockbox, so should you.
xxoo