Please head over to Doug’s
Doug drones on–never. No longer willing or able or wanting to tell stories about himself, Doug tells stories about his blogging friends. Today’s story features Tom Waits, a cab, a cab driver, and a girl. Something told me that I should have headed to Doug’s before opening my email.
Yesterday Sar decided that Miz Bohemia needed a break from her in-laws; so a group of ladies-who-don’t-lunch have been partying non-stop. Ddragon has a great summary of the weekend so far, with many comments
We couldn’t decide between Vegas and Atlantic City. As I have never been to Vegas, I really wanted to go. Know that never having been to Vegas is suspect behavior for any person who claims to have been born in the USA; and found out the hard way that it is in my permanent record. Apparently watching CSI doesn’t count. I might have been given a point if I watched it “live” but I DVR it, so….
My permanent record is in Karl Rove’s office. He says that I bitch too much; am unusually attached to my blog, and shouldn’t be because I haven’t won any awards. When I told him that the love and support of my blogging friends is enough, he viewed me with even more suspicion and told me to get my ass over to a special joint session of Oprah and Dr. Phil where I will be treated with tough love and toughness in general.
“And that Cooper girl, you’re always fawning over and speaking in accolades about, she’s headed for big big trouble.”
The R man, as I like to call him lately, then spit as he told me that Oprah was going to force me to become spiritual.
He brightened as he said:
“But it’s Christian spirituality.”
Remembering my recent lessons on the subject, I said, “No, not Christian, Gentile.” He looked at me as if I had suddenly grown horns:
“If I say that it’s Christian spirituality; it is. It is what is because I, Karl Rove say so.”
The R man had much more to say. He said that my non-competitive spirit is sickening. If everybody had my attitude, how could we win the war? The R man told me that though we’re natural enemies he had high hopes for me when I began blogging as I seemed to fight with everybody.
When I told him that I had always hated fighting, he looked at me with even more disdain, and sentenced me to a month, in residence at Dr Laura’s.
“But you can’t. We’re both from Long Island. My mother….”
It didn’t matter that my mother knew every mother and daughter on Long Island; it didn’t matter that I hadn’t been arrested, tried, or convicted.
In Karl Rove’s America, nobody needs a warrant except when they need one; any conversation can be taped, except when it isn’t. My head was spinning with lessons from Chairman Karl as I was whisked away to the special joint session.
And I didn’t to go to Vegas with the ladies, simply because I had never been there before. And Karl Rove believes that every true American has been to Vegas at least once in their lives and can show proof that they were there,
Alas, Esoteric Wombat, Cat, and Queen Bitch came storming into the building, rescued me, and we all spent the next day gambling and drinking the day away. Shayna, Cooper, Doug, Dan and many more people joined us.
EW enjoyed his sojourn with the ladies.
Yes I wrote yesterday on my difficulty fictionalizing my life; as in real life. This is obviously fantasy satire/very first draft but fun to write on a night when the rain keeps pounding and the temperature keeps dropping.
I’m especially proud of the posts I did from Monday night through yesterday as I couldn’t sleep much at night; my tooth throbbed even with pain relievers. Late yesterday afternoon 5:30, I was writing a comment in EW’s blog, saw the room begin to spin, made it into the bedroom and the next thing I knew it was 11:30 which is the only reason that I was late to Sar’s wonderful weekend away that has provided so much blogging fodder
Please let me know what you think of Doug’s post. Some particularly remarkable bloggers here. Thank you all!