All posts by Lambchop

Ceaseless Self-examination

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I am calculating my faults and bad habits, weighing the probability of miraculous transformation-all the things that are promptly forgotten once the champagne has been uncorked. Yes, its time for Lambchop’s New Year’s Resolutions:

1. I resolve to listen to all those Current 93 cds.

2. I resolve to eat at home, umm, sometime.

3. I resolve to resume recreational drug use. (just kidding, Boss!)

4. I resolve to revive the ascot.

5. I resolve to make better paintings.

6. I resolve to be more insane, but less irritating.

7. I resolve to scratch the itch.

8. I resolve to spend less time at the motherf@§$ing doctor’s office.

9. I resolve to Make Life Beautiful!

and most importantly,

10. I resolve to Lie.

-xo

Only 365 Days until Xmas

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I hope you have all been enjoying stuffing your faces and gazing wall-eyed at your new pile of gimcracks, thinking of jesus and abusing the scarf your grandma knitted you.

I had a some lovely Turkey at Licketysplit’s house, which she served in an apron bedecked in stars. Christmas night is spent as usual searching for a bar thats open. Don’t You need drinks after spending the day listening to “Good King Wenceslas” and slurping egg nog while your mom asks if you have gained weight? So why did You not open My bar?? Its totally irresponsible, people need drinks!

Speaking of which, you are all invited to Lambchop’s New Years Eve Party. There will be tons of attractive and intoxicated people. We will likely have karaoke and greet the dawn standing on the porch in our underwear, sucking the last of the Freixenet from the bottle. My New Year’s Resolution will as usual be to never do this again.

Don’t you just love new beginnings?

-xo

Lolly lolly

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I am finishing the Big Move (from one bedroom to the one right next door). It took a while, because I did it one sweater at a time. I have already started painting in the new posh pit. I am taking a break to twirl a lollipop and wonder where the cigar in my pocket came from.

If you know the answer to this ponderous riddle, do rattle my cage. I will be here listening to Roxy music and flexing my new muscles until its time to go see my fellow Smuggler play at the Somerville theater. Do come, and slip mysterious objects in my pocket. I won’t remember!

-xo

Lambchop gets a Forcefeeding

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The agonies of my Tract continue, and so tomorrow I have to endure a battery of tests. I have to fast until morning, at which point I will show up to the office, sample proudly in hand, and be forcefed some kind of dairy concoction until my liver bursts. Oh wait, thats foie gras. No, I will then be bled for two hours. I wonder when they are going to bring out the leeches?

This procedure is utterly pointless, as there is NO WAY I am lactose intolerant. Me and cheese go way back. We like the same things! For a time I was trying to learn how to say “I like cheese” in as many languages as possible, merely to generate variety in the expressions of love that I whisper to Cheese. This actually came in handy when I got caught stealing cheese from the dining hall where I was pizza girl. When asked by the manager what I was doing carrying cheese with me into the coatroom, I simply repeated “I like cheese…” to his every query until his jowls quivered and his face turned red. He eventually gave up. Wouldn’t you?

After all the starving and bleeding, I get to stagger all starved and bled to WORK, where a colossal mountain of someone else’s failure awaits me in great papery dunes.

But it ain’t all bad news, folks- I got a call from the Sisterhood today. If all goes well, I shall soon be mentoring a 7-15 year old girl. I just hope they won’t be requiring any samples.

-xo

Oh, and another thing about that commute…

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I queued up for the train as always, healing like a concession of defeat. The colder it gets, physician the larger and more desperate this mob becomes. This morning I was part of a faceless torrent of blighted souls, like a yuppie death march toward Dunkin Donuts, hunched over and lurching forward. I dropped a glove and thought I might be trampled if I bent to retrieve it.

While release from the train may be ecstasy, we are swallowed instantly by the cavern.

This is what I feel like:

OOH, congratulations to Licketysplit for achieving, uhhh, something.

-xo

Grover Sings the Blues

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He’s so anxious, and he is always screwing up. He hollers and bounces off the wall. Need I tell you how strongly I identify with Grover? I was in a cafe today and I read a Grover poem in a Little Golden Book:

when my imagination

takes me by the mind

it leads me so far, so fast

my body’s left behind

yet that’s when I am most myself

lost in wish and dream

and coming back, I smile and think

“I’m more than I might seem.”

While I was reading it, Tom Jones was howling “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” on the piped-in music.

P.S. Lately I have been feeling uneasy about working for a Firm and squandering all my dough on likker and gewgaws, especially the way I ignore panhandlers. So I have volunteered to become a Big Sister. I know you people think I am inherently incapable of anything approaching sincerity, but I really want to give some time and take a kid to the library, and rollerskating, and listen to her problems.

Oh Shut Up.

-xo

Queer Eye Hit and Run

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So I was in the thrift store today, squeezing into some pants and a tacky one-dollar belt. I was eyeballing them in the mirror when a handsome, gay man strides by and intones “that’s HOT” in that dry, world-weary mary-way. And was just as suddenly gone. Hot, eh? Aren’t gay men by definition not supposed to find things hot on me? I had more or less made up my mind not to buy anything. But apparently, Lambchop is powerless to resist the endorsement of a gay man. No wonder nice boys don’t like me.

-xo

‘Tis the Season to be Tipsy

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It was a brand new freezing day and even though I said NEVER AGAIN, I still came to work in that blighted vessel of the damned.

Last night was my swell roomate’s office xmas party. Thanks for inviting me guys, in spite of my propensity to make out by the copier! (note:I did no such thing. I don’t even think they have a copier.-ed.) Tonight is my firm’s party. I plan to chew and screw. Who needs to get drunk and chatted up by the guys from the mailroom or those screwheads in accounts payable? More to the point, I don’t need my boss to see me acting like an idiot.

Get well soon, most beloved Lickety!

-xo