Cookies make everything okay

I really want to write about soups because I have been painting them in an unconventional way lately. But that post wouldn't be funny enough, so I will tell you about the time I got pee on a fat stranger. And I will illustrate this post with some of the paintings of soups that I have been working on, even though they have no pertinence to the tale.

Years ago I suffered from a nasal infection and my doctors had me give blood and urine samples to be analyzed for a diagnosis.

I showed up at the lab early in the morning. I hadn't eaten, as requested. A large, alarmingly unkempt phlebotomist called me into a little room and handed me a plastic jar to pee in. I went to the bathroom, peed and returned to the small room to have my blood drawn. I guess I didn't screw the top of the pee jar on sufficiently, but I didn't know that yet.

I sat in one of those special chairs with the arm rest that protrudes from a very clinical type of seat that is used specifically by labs to draw blood. My sample of pee sat safely on a counter next to me. The phlebotomist asked if I was afraid of needles? I said no. This was a lie. I also failed to tell him that the sight of blood made me light-headed. All of this would become clear to him in about 4 seconds, when he thrust a jagged telephone pole of a needle into my vein with what I recall as vigorous enthusiasm. Just as I felt as if I were powering through the pain, I peeped a look and to my horror I saw what appeared to be a geyser of blood spouting from my arm like a breaching whale. I instantly felt faint. My ears rang and I felt my body falling fast towards the floor. I instinctively reached for any support from my surroundings. In the midst of all of the chaos I managed to grab the jar of urine that sat next to me on the counter. For some reason I tossed the jar to the phlebotomist. It was then that we both realized that I had not in fact fastened the lid to the jar of pee properly.

For a moment, I passed out. As I regained consciousness, I saw an empty jar lying on the floor and the poor man who had been drawing my blood covered in my pee. Two nurses quickly came into the room and helped me stagger to a recovery room which was unfortunately located on the other side of the waiting room.

So a room full of people, who were were already anxious about having their blood drawn, watched in horror as two nurses conveyed me through the waiting area, visibly drenched in urine and covered in enough blood to to be alarming, like some officer wounded in battle.

The nurses sat me in a chair. Handed me orange juice and a chocolate chip cookie. I was fine. Just a little embarrassed.

A delicate French onion soup in a thermos

A spicy tomato soup, carrot ginger soup & tequila in thermoses

Cream of asparagus saffron in small thermos

Clam chowder and vichyssoise, obviously 

Woody Woodpecker

The other day I awoke to the peaceful sound of a stupid woodpecker pecking some giant tree to death in my front yard. I think the woodpecker had just done a bunch of methamphetamine, or at least he'd had a bunch of Red Bull or something...

Anyway, as I listened to the majestic creature go about as woodpeckers do, I thought a curious thought.

I thought, how did I never notice that the name "woodpecker" is super funny and sexual? How could I have missed that? Was there something wrong with me? I couldn't believe I missed something so obvious.

Then, a few moments later, I heard the delicate chirps of a flock of tiny titmice in the bush outside my window. I felt vindicated, because I remembered making jokes about them in the past.

But still I was a little rattled by my observation. I was curious too. Luckily, I had an old edition of Audubon's Guide to North American Birds on my book shelf.

I decided to do a little sleuthing and see how many dirty bird names I could find. What I discovered shocked me! And I think it will shock you too. I discovered that nearly half of the birds in North America have perverted names. I can't so much as look up in the sky now without seeing a giant smutty parade of birds.

Here is a list of some birds with names worth mentioning. There were too many to list them all here. I think you will see my point.

Bird name list:

White-Throated Sparrow
Rose-Breasted Grosbeak
Tufted Titmouse
Cliff Swallow
Two Swallows
Barn Swallow
Tree Swallow
Red-Cockaded Woodpecker
Yellow-Bellied Sap Sucker
Red Headed Woodpecker
Yellow Shafted Flicker
Chimney Swift
Horned Owl
Puffin
Buff Breasted Sand Piper
Woodcock
Piping Plover
Oyster Catcher
Black Oyster Catcher
Clapper Rail
Limpkin
Wild Turkey Gobbler
Bob-White
Golden Eagle
Red Breasted Shelldrake
Dickcissel
Bald Eagle
Large Dick Swallow

I made that last name up. --You see my point though.

The list goes on...

I could have handled that better...

So last night I went to dinner with my best friend Adrian. We went to a fish restaurant and ordered some oysters, had a few beers, and laughed about stuff. This restaurant, like so many, has a huge tropical fish tank that comprises most of one of the walls. After we had consumed about two beers, I noticed that one of the large beautiful blue and yellow fish in the tank was dead. It looked like the fish that was portrayed by Ellen DeGeneres in Finding Nemo--that really capped it for me.

I tried to listen to what my friend was saying, but I was too saddened and fixated on the beautiful dead fish draped over some orange coral. I couldn't believe that everyone in the restaurant didn't notice. I have some eye issues and it was a strain for me to see the fish, but I could not stop staring. In order for me to see things easily, sometimes I need to close one eye and really concentrate. So while my friend was talking about stuff, I was just staring at this dead fish, squinting and blinking and shutting one eye. Eventually my friend noticed. He was perplexed, and asked me what I was doing with all the facial contortions. I told him. Then we both started to stare at the fish, grimacing and laughing in a sad and uncomfortable way for quite a while. Suddenly I noticed that the dead fish was right behind what looked like two drunk college girls who weren't aware of the fish corpse behind them. They were aware of me laughing and making weird faces at them, however. I tried to explain to them from across a crowded noisy room what I was looking at. I pointed at them and yelled: "Dead fish."

Sadly they didn't understand, and my explanation only seemed to make matters worse. It got a little embarrassing.

Other than that, it was a great night out with my best friend.

A long, long time ago, in a place far, far away...

Years ago I chased a girl.

For this story, I will call her Ambrosia Hemmingway Cornish-Harpsworth Johnson. Maybe I will abbreviate it to AHCHJ to make this story simple...

Anyway, I was always making Ambrosia (AHCHJ) chocolate cakes or lamb, or something awesome and ridiculous. We would garden together sometimes and I would read her journals when she wasn't looking and lie about it.

One time we did ecstasy at our friend's house and I tripped out on pinecones. My friends Holly and Brandy gave me a head massage on the lawn that was just amazing.

Anyway, we all swam in a black-bottomed pool. When it was nearly dawn, me and Ambrosia (AHCHJ) found an empty room with a child's bed that was too small. We held hands and fell asleep.

One time Ambrosia (AHCHJ) came over and we went and got sushi. We drank sake. Then we went and got cocktails at a bar with red leather booths. Around 2:00 a.m. we got back to my place.

We fell on the bed. We smoked a joint. I turned the lights off, got back in the bed, and kissed Ambrosia (AHCHJ). She said, "You finely did it."

Then she vomited all over me!

I went and got towels and a large pot from the kitchen. I held her hair back and washed her face with warm water. I held the pot in my lap as she puked in it. It was a weird night...and that was that.

Nothing ever happened.
I just got puked on.
Oddly, it's a fond memory.

A Thin Blue Line A Thin Blue Chip

Once years ago I was driving along a hilly street. As I drove along, I listened to the Al Franken Show on the radio.

It was one of my favorite programs...and the episode I was listening to was the very last broadcast.

All of the regular guests came on to talk to Al and the whole thing got super-emotional. I started to get emotional too and before I knew it...I was driving along crying.

All of the sudden I see red lights in my rear-view mirror and hear the whoop whoop sound of a siren. I was being pulled over.

I quickly tried to regain my composure. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and cleared my throat. Slowly, as the policeman approached, I rolled down my window.

He looked at me for a moment and asked me if I was crying.

I said I was just listening to the radio and that I wasn't really crying...but moved by a program.

He looked at me, puzzled, and said, "I can't let you drive in this state, sir." He pointed to an empty parking lot up the road and asked me to pull in there and wait 15 minutes.

I drove to the parking lot and he followed in his squad car. We parked. He sat about 20 feet away in his car watching me. It was a little embarrassing...but it was about to get worse.

I guess there wasn't a lot going on in town that day. So some of the extra patrol cars decided to swing by and hang out too. Everyone was just hanging around waiting for me to stop crying. Before long there were at least six cops there, leaning on their vehicles, talking about who knows what. Every once in awhile one of them would walk up to my window to see how I was doing.

Eventually one offered me some Sun Chips. I declined, but then I changed my mind. After I started eating the chips everything got better. Before I knew it we were all hanging out eating Sun Chips and drinking Dr Pepper. They had some pretty funny stories! I forgot all about my embarrassment.

True Grit

Some interesting things have been happening to me lately in the realm of fashion.

Yesterday after months of perusing thrift shops and yard sales I found the pair of woven leather loafers I have been trying to find for months--at a rummage sale to support a local girl's roller derby team. I found these loafers just as the weather is starting to get cold! I can't wear them with socks! That looks stupid. Now I have to wait til spring to wear them. It just feels like there is a greater power conspiring against me fashion-wise these days...I will explain further.

You see, the girls weren't dyke-y, but the roller derby motif did remind me of my awesome leather motorcycle jacket. So of course as soon as I got home I tore my closet apart and found it. It fit great and looked better than ever! But there was a problem. You see, I wear an eye patch these days. After looking in the mirror, I realized that you really need to pick one or the other. Eye patch or awesome leather jacket. The combination made me feel like I was an extra in a Mad Max film or something.

To make matters worse I've been thinking about going wild boar hunting because I've been watching all these new TV shows on the Discovery Channel about homesteading in Alaska. They are always shooting bears and living off the land. These shows inspired me to live off the grist of the land myself! So a couple days ago I dug out my old rifle and cleaned it up in preparation for the hunt.

Yesterday, when I got back from the roller derby girl rummage sale with my awesome woven leather loafers and put on my leather jacket, I could see out of the corner of my eye, my rifle. It whispered to me...it said, "Hey, you are already wearing an awesome leather jacket and checking yourself out in the bathroom mirror--why don't you come over here and pick me up and complete the ensemble?"

So I did. Me with my patch, jacket, and a gun. I didn't plan to stare at myself for an hour in the mirror...but that is what happened. I think if I do go hunt a boar now, like a homesteader, I am going to need to wear the jacket. I feel like I can't wear the patch/leather jacket combo in public...but there is nothing, nothing! preventing me from wearing the outfit in the wilderness while I'm hunting! And, I'm going to wear the loafers too. Just because.

Like cocaine...but better?

Why have I never seen a scene in a movie like this?

A group of unsavory characters would be hanging out in a warehouse. One of the guys looks really jittery and paranoid. His eyes dart around. Slowly he opens a briefcase and reveals a concealed key-lime pie. Then one of the other guys, who would be wearing kind of a crappy suit, dips his finger into the pie and raises his finger ever so slowly to his mouth in silence. The tension at this point would be palpable....just really, really uncomfortable. The silence would draw out. Then the guy who just tasted the pie would say, "That's some good fucking stuff." And everyone would relax and have some pie!

I don't think I'm being unreasonable wanting this. I watch stupid movies all the time, and honestly I cannot recall one scene that centered on a key-lime pie! Let alone a film where the protagonist is a key lime pie. We have come along way as a country, but there is still a dark side to us. It's no wonder--half the country would vote for Mitt Romney if the election were held today. I have brain cancer, and that seems great compared to the idea of that troglodyte being president. Plankton has more charm and intelligence than that cat turd factory!

I'm getting side-tracked. I guess there is one movie that has a big pie scene! American Pie! But I don't want to talk about a dick ruining a pie for everyone else. It's such a greedy thing to do...and I already talked about Mitt Romney.

I swear, if I have to write a screenplay myself that stars a key lime pie, I will do it. What kind of society do we want to have? Where are our priorities! A society where Mitt Romney is president and nobody gets any pie? Or, a society where films are made that use pies in place of cocaine because it would be kind of funny and delicious!