Surrealist Ghetto....

[QueenofQueens]

Welcome to the Surrealist Ghetto. My name is QueenofQueens and as some of you might know, I was chosen by the universe to be a conduit of the absurd. Throughout the course of my life I have seen and experienced the most ridiculous things. Usually when I am in a state of deep despair, I will witness something so bizarre that it tears my woe asunder. If you have ever seen a pack of streakers wander thru a fast food drive in after midnight, if you have ever picked up a hitch-hiker who wore faerie wings, if you have ever seen a mermaid, you are welcome here.

I am also a proponent of artistic and poetic sabotage. In other words creating a paradigm shift, however momentary through the use of artistic expression. If you have ever left graffitti on a wall, if you have ever sought freedom through parody, if you have ever kidnapped a garden gnome and taken it around the world, you are welcome here.
I intend to share my absurd stories with you all, and perhaps stage some guerilla art attacks as well. Please join me in the ghetto...THE SURREALIST GHETTO.


"(Surrealism) declares that it is able, by its own means, to uproot thought from an increasingly cruel state of thralldom, to steer it back onto the path of total comprehension, return it to its original purity."
Andre Breton, Second Manifesto of Surrealism

[QueenofQueens]

I have a knack for living in places that are the crossroads for strange sightings. Several years ago I lived in Kingston NY. It was the first capital of the state of NY. It was burned to the ground during the revolutioary war and rebuilt. My girlfriend and I called it "the uncity" because of it's eerie ghostlike quality. Whilst living in this small city in the Catskills I witnessed many truths which were stranger than fiction.
An surreal event occurred one evening as I sped home from work, furious about life and who knows what else. As I was coming across the bridge that spanned the creek near my house my eye caught hold of a strange and wondrous sight. There, merely five feet from my car were two Mexican midgets, driving a go-kart with no headlights, at twilight, across the bridge, gleefully grinning from ear to ear. They whizzed by me at top go-kart speed, wresting my anger from me and taking it with them on their joy-ride to nowhere.


~MQoQ

[Apocalipstic]

Q of Q, you are the coolest! :D

The Southern US is always strange, we dote on the bizzarre. Will ponder and be back! :)

[evolveme]

Thank you for inviting me.

I have never felt so at home.

Last night, while despairing over my insane mama's lack of tolerance for others, I was thinking on just how like her I am. Insanity and everything.

She and I were talking on the phone.

My mama is one of those Southerners given to the notion that the South does not have to Rise Again because it never fell the first time.

My mama despises Yankees. She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey.

She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey, have a nasal-y voice, and speak entirely too loudly.

She is telling me of the Yankee receptionist that made a fatal faux pas at work yesterday:

A cowboy in a very fine western style suit saunters into the lobby.

The Yankee receptionist says (too loudly, of course),

"Yipee-Yi-Yo Cowboy, where'd ya park yer horse?!"

And then. The Yankee receptionist. Whinnied. Like. A horse.

"Neigh!"

My insane mama then walked over to the Yankee receptionist and whisper-yelled in her face that if she ever saw her insult another cowboy again she would cut.her.face.

I had an immediate revelation at this point in the story!

I come by the whisper-yell honest.

And my mama has something in common with all my very favorite drag queen friends. She will cut.your.face. Bitch.



This revelation was entirely surreal.

[QueenofQueens]

Q of Q, you are the coolest! :D

The Southern US is always strange, we dote on the bizzarre. Will ponder and be back! :)

Yes! For instance, I adore Flannery O'Connor's writing but did you know that she had pet chickens for whom she would knit sweaters?
(t) (surrealist visual)

I have many, MANY Florida stories to share..heeheehee. ;)

[littlebear]

I like to give voice to the inanimate. The other day I was in the bank and a very well dressed man was hitting a pen because it wouldn't write.So I bent down under the counter where he was writing and proceeded to speak as if I were the pen,using a bad french accent.
"Stop hitting me I am just pen,I do not like you I will not give you ink. I will not let you abuse me,just because I am the cheap pen."
Since I can't throw my voice,he figured out and called the guard,who knows me and tried to get me kicked out of the bank.I told the man I was trying to make him laugh and I apolgized.But I was told many customers thaough it was funny,so that was the point.

I must learn to throw my voice.(h) (&)

[OutlawDaddy]

Does witnessing a man (caucasian and of average height) clad only in a fluorescent vest, mud caked tighty whities and lamp shade...running through traffic to evade police along the interstate. He was alternately using the lamp shade as both head cover and knightly shield. Practical, as it was raining and the police were chasing him. He finally came to a rest belly down, shade up, under an overpass. He was surprised when pulled from his hiding place because although he could not see out, he was shocked to be undoubtedly recognized from under the shade… OD

[QueenofQueens]

Thank you for inviting me.

I have never felt so at home.

Last night, while despairing over my insane mama's lack of tolerance for others, I was thinking on just how like her I am. Insanity and everything.

She and I were talking on the phone.

My mama is one of those Southerners given to the notion that the South does not have to Rise Again because it never fell the first time.

My mama despises Yankees. She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey.

She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey, have a nasal-y voice, and speak entirely too loudly.

She is telling me of the Yankee receptionist that made a fatal faux pas at work yesterday:

A cowboy in a very fine western style suit saunters into the lobby.

The Yankee receptionist says (too loudly, of course),

"Yipee-Yi-Yo Cowboy, where'd ya park yer horse?!"

And then. The Yankee receptionist. Whinnied. Like. A horse.

"Neigh!"

My insane mama then walked over to the Yankee receptionist and whisper-yelled in her face that if she ever saw her insult another cowboy again she would cut.her.face.

I had an immediate revelation at this point in the story!

I come by the whisper-yell honest.

And my mama has something in common with all my very favorite drag queen friends. She will cut.your.face. Bitch.



This revelation was entirely surreal.

The whole tale is a cavalcade, from soup to nuts...(y) I am reminded of your real-deal surrealist mama by this quote...(@)

"The simplest Surrealist act consists of dashing down into the street, pistol in hand, and firing blindly, as fast as you can pull the trigger, into the crowd."
Andre Breton, Second Manifesto of Surrealism

[Lips]

You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to QueenofQueens again.

Why when it's so good? I would have given you the biggest rep, because I just fucking love you.

Today on my way home from the gym a huge thunderstorm was coming in. Well, in TX when you get a thunderstorm the sky gets funny and the wind blows but it super warm, like a giant hairdryer. So, I'm driving along and the thunder is happening, when suddenly I see a woman bike riding down the street.

Not surreal you say?


Ahh, but you see the woman looked just like the wicked witch of the west and was riding a bike with a basket.

(insert OZ theme here)

[QueenofQueens]

I like to give voice to the inanimate. The other day I was in the bank and a very well dressed man was hitting a pen because it wouldn't write.So I bent down under the counter where he was writing and proceeded to speak as if I were the pen,using a bad french accent.
"Stop hitting me I am just pen,I do not like you I will not give you ink. I will not let you abuse me,just because I am the cheap pen."
Since I can't throw my voice,he figured out and called the guard,who knows me and tried to get me kicked out of the bank.I told the man I was trying to make him laugh and I apolgized.But I was told many customers thaough it was funny,so that was the point.

I must learn to throw my voice.(h) (&)

You are a full fledged genius....I am laughing so hard at this I may soil my knicks.
I used to induce my mom's guilt by giving voice to plants at the nursery if she changed her mind about buying them. Me in a little cartoon plant voice going, "Please don't leave me here I want to come home with you".
And her almost always responding by purchasing the plant....(o)

[QueenofQueens]

Does witnessing a man (caucasian and of average height) clad only in a fluorescent vest, mud caked tighty whities and lamp shade...running through traffic to evade police along the interstate. He was alternately using the lamp shade as both head cover and knightly shield. Practical, as it was raining and the police were chasing him. He finally came to a rest belly down, shade up, under an overpass. He was surprised when pulled from his hiding place because although he could not see out, he was shocked to be undoubtedly recognized from under the shade… OD



Gorgeous...and the two-fold use of the lampshade is the cornerstone of logic...(e)

[QueenofQueens]

You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to QueenofQueens again.

Why when it's so good? I would have given you the biggest rep, because I just fucking love you.

Today on my way home from the gym a huge thunderstorm was coming in. Well, in TX when you get a thunderstorm the sky gets funny and the wind blows but it super warm, like a giant hairdryer. So, I'm driving along and the thunder is happening, when suddenly I see a woman bike riding down the street.

Not surreal you say?


Ahh, but you see the woman looked just like the wicked witch of the west and was riding a bike with a basket.

(insert OZ theme here)

Ah Lipsy, I love you too..and I can just picture the Little Rascals double-take you did as she sped past, her jaw set, her focus on getting that damn little dog clear to anyone who saw her....(8)

[Ally_J2005]

Last year I worked for a firm that helped people save their homes from foreclosure ... upon answering the phone I said " GM ------- & associates , this is "Ally " how can I take your money today? :| I then heard the boss say ... " What did you just say" :o

[QueenofQueens]

Last year I worked for a firm that helped people save their homes from foreclosure ... upon answering the phone I said " GM ------- & associates , this is "Ally " how can I take your money today? :| I then heard the boss say ... " What did you just say" :o

Ah yes..the "George Washington" style of surrealism....what a perfect moment in time. (x)

[JackSpade]

Thank you for inviting me.

I have never felt so at home.

Last night, while despairing over my insane mama's lack of tolerance for others, I was thinking on just how like her I am. Insanity and everything.

She and I were talking on the phone.

My mama is one of those Southerners given to the notion that the South does not have to Rise Again because it never fell the first time.

My mama despises Yankees. She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey.

She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey, have a nasal-y voice, and speak entirely too loudly.

She is telling me of the Yankee receptionist that made a fatal faux pas at work yesterday:

A cowboy in a very fine western style suit saunters into the lobby.

The Yankee receptionist says (too loudly, of course),

"Yipee-Yi-Yo Cowboy, where'd ya park yer horse?!"

And then. The Yankee receptionist. Whinnied. Like. A horse.

"Neigh!"

My insane mama then walked over to the Yankee receptionist and whisper-yelled in her face that if she ever saw her insult another cowboy again she would cut.her.face.

I had an immediate revelation at this point in the story!

I come by the whisper-yell honest.

And my mama has something in common with all my very favorite drag queen friends. She will cut.your.face. Bitch.



This revelation was entirely surreal.

I want to rep e's mom :)

[astarte]

One day we started up the car and noticed a wee bug perched outside directly at eye level with LBG. This was one funky looking bug. It had unusually long arms, crappy little wings and an unhappy face that I swear seemed to be staring in at hyr. She fires up the car and begins driving slowly downhill expecting it jump off at any moment. LBG starts chuckling to herself. We go faster and faster and that darn fly holds on even tighter. LBG is now laughing hysterically to hyrslef and saying "he likes it!" So we’re cruising along at fifty miles an hour watching the bug as he watches us, and LBG starts singing Whipped Cream from Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. Now the fly’s unusually long arms are bouncing in time with the music and we nearly crash the car watching him watch us with a distraught little expression as he boogies on the windshield. We must have gone a mile or two before we reached the stop sign, at which point our friend flew away as fast as his gimpy little wings would carry him. Sometime if ever we are all lucky enough to be in the same room together, you simply must make LBG act out her fly on the windshield moment. I think she misses him daily. (w)

[Ally_J2005]

You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to QueenofQueens again.

Why when it's so good? I would have given you the biggest rep, because I just fucking love you.

Today on my way home from the gym a huge thunderstorm was coming in. Well, in TX when you get a thunderstorm the sky gets funny and the wind blows but it super warm, like a giant hairdryer. So, I'm driving along and the thunder is happening, when suddenly I see a woman bike riding down the street.

Not surreal you say?


Ahh, but you see the woman looked just like the wicked witch of the west and was riding a bike with a basket.

(insert OZ theme here)

Thanx for the rep love Lips ;) Right back atcha

[Lips]

So we’re cruising along at fifty miles an hour watching the bug as he watches us, and LBG starts singing Whipped Cream from Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. Now the fly’s unusually long arms are bouncing in time with the music and we nearly crash the car watching him watch us with a distraught little expression as he boogies on the windshield. (w)

Holy crap!

I laughed and laughed at this!!!!!!!

[TxHarleyBoi]

I have a knack for living in places that are the crossroads for strange sightings. Several years ago I lived in Kingston NY. It was the first capital of the state of NY. It was burned to the ground during the revolutioary war and rebuilt. My girlfriend and I called it "the uncity" because of it's eerie ghostlike quality. Whilst living in this small city in the Catskills I witnessed many truths which were stranger than fiction.
An surreal event occurred one evening as I sped home from work, furious about life and who knows what else. As I was coming across the bridge that spanned the creek near my house my eye caught hold of a strange and wondrous sight. There, merely five feet from my car were two Mexican midgets, driving a go-kart with no headlights, at twilight, across the bridge, gleefully grinning from ear to ear. They whizzed by me at top go-kart speed, wresting my anger from me and taking it with them on their joy-ride to nowhere.


~MQoQ

This post just made my day!!! I can't stop grinning now! I have a story for all lovers of dogs, the surreal and the absurd:
Twice a year there is an event in downtown Houston Texas called the Westheimer Festival. It was renamed simply Art Festival a few years back and moved to dead-center downtown because the powers that be wanted to promote it as more of a family event. You see, Westheimer and Montrose (formerly the heart of the festival) is the four corners of queerdom in Houston - rainbow flags from the light poles, leather bars and stores, resale shops, clubs, piercing and tattoo salons - all for the gay community and during festival don't ya know the queer peeps were out in force!
On one such occasion I was walking down the street perusing the various art booths, homemade jewelry and eating the free Hari Krishna food when I noticed this poor labrador retriever burning his feet on the hot sidewalk and panting wildly because it was so freakin' hot. I said to myself, outloud, "I can't believe that dude is making his dog suffer like that" and about that time a queer leather boy walked past in his leather chastity thong with a red Radio Flyer wagon in tow - inside the wagon was his small doggie and I said "that is so much nicer for the puppy". On second glance however I realized that the puppy was very still... dead still... because his owner had him stuffed after he died and was now walking around with his stuffed former and apparently most beloved doggie in a red wagon! I couldn't do anything but stand there, dropping my free rice off my plate, speechless. When I finally did snap I just shrugged and said to myself "I guess everybody likes to bring their doggies down here".

[TxHarleyBoi]

I like to give voice to the inanimate. The other day I was in the bank and a very well dressed man was hitting a pen because it wouldn't write.So I bent down under the counter where he was writing and proceeded to speak as if I were the pen,using a bad french accent.
"Stop hitting me I am just pen,I do not like you I will not give you ink. I will not let you abuse me,just because I am the cheap pen."
Since I can't throw my voice,he figured out and called the guard,who knows me and tried to get me kicked out of the bank.I told the man I was trying to make him laugh and I apolgized.But I was told many customers thaough it was funny,so that was the point.

I must learn to throw my voice.(h) (&)

Dude, I just spit coffee everywhere! That is the most beautiful thing I have ever read! It reminds me of making voices of food in the grocery, like when some woman squeezes the poor tomotoes and as I walk by I just say "ooowwwwiee!" or giggle in a ridiculous way as if being tickled...

[evolveme]

The whole tale is a cavalcade, from soup to nuts...(y) I am reminded of your real-deal surrealist mama by this quote...(@)

"The simplest Surrealist act consists of dashing down into the street, pistol in hand, and firing blindly, as fast as you can pull the trigger, into the crowd."
Andre Breton, Second Manifesto of Surrealism

This is brilliant segue for my next Surreal story:

My mama left her last husband for Trucker Lover No. 2, whom she met at the Welcome Center on the Mississippi-Louisianna state line whilst serving community service.

Trucker Lover No. 2 lived on about 80 acres of rural property in the middle of Copiah County (aka Don't Come Here Lest You Wanna Git Shot).

Mama's Last Husband figures out where she is and how to get there by some miracle of genius not his own (of course, duh) and has his elderly father drive his new white Suburban down a long red clay road so's he can serve her divorce papers himself (illegal) and save himself the $25 (cheapskate).

Mama's high on Xanax and painkillers. She comes outside in ONLY a T-SHIRT to see who the hell is driving up Trucker Lover No. 2's road. She spies her "stupid ass" husband and goes inside: "ta git tha gun."

A .357 Magnum.

She fires it AT HER HUSBAND.

It only nearly misses him.

(He is still picking windshield glass out of the side of his head today.)

The elderly father holds his arms up in total surrender.

She hollers for both of them to get out of the truck.

She then tells them to give her the keys, and strip naked.

She plans to throw the keys into the woods and have them walk out the way they came while she shoots at their feet.

Fortunately for them, a nearby dwelling bounty hunter, having heard the gunshots, comes to investigate, talks my mother down from her rage and into handing over her gun, and tells the husband and his ghostly pale daddy to get the hell outta there before they find themselves looking at the Mighty face of God.

True Story.

[Lips]

[B]True Story.

I'm startin' to think we're related.

Of course this means we HAV TA git married.

I'll even git ya pregnant first.

[evolveme]

I'm startin' to think we're related.

Of course this means we HAV TA git married.

I'll even git ya pregnant first.

You gone be our baby's uncle mama then, suger? ;)

[Apocalipstic]

I work for an entertainment company, and we are at a tasting for L'ete du Vin, ad huge fundraiser for the American Cancer Society.

The chairpersons for the event are older than God, Southern Divas who have had too many face lifts and even more husbands.

I ask one of them, who incidentally is named Teeny and isn't and is in an Elizabeth Taylor turban with a huge broach on it, what she thinks of the centerpiece. She says "Honey I love it so much I want to get up on the table and fuck it!"

And so it went.....

[Apocalipstic]

I like to give voice to the inanimate. The other day I was in the bank and a very well dressed man was hitting a pen because it wouldn't write.So I bent down under the counter where he was writing and proceeded to speak as if I were the pen,using a bad french accent.
"Stop hitting me I am just pen,I do not like you I will not give you ink. I will not let you abuse me,just because I am the cheap pen."
Since I can't throw my voice,he figured out and called the guard,who knows me and tried to get me kicked out of the bank.I told the man I was trying to make him laugh and I apolgized.But I was told many customers thaough it was funny,so that was the point.

I must learn to throw my voice.(h) (&)

Haaaaaaaaa, I do that too! I used to drive my sister crazy pretending I was the voice of her food screaming for mercy! :D

[QueenofQueens]

You gone be our baby's uncle mama then, suger? ;)

Does that mean I get to be Aunt Dad? (S)

[QueenofQueens]

One day we started up the car and noticed a wee bug perched outside directly at eye level with LBG. This was one funky looking bug. It had unusually long arms, crappy little wings and an unhappy face that I swear seemed to be staring in at hyr. She fires up the car and begins driving slowly downhill expecting it jump off at any moment. LBG starts chuckling to herself. We go faster and faster and that darn fly holds on even tighter. LBG is now laughing hysterically to hyrslef and saying "he likes it!" So we’re cruising along at fifty miles an hour watching the bug as he watches us, and LBG starts singing Whipped Cream from Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. Now the fly’s unusually long arms are bouncing in time with the music and we nearly crash the car watching him watch us with a distraught little expression as he boogies on the windshield. We must have gone a mile or two before we reached the stop sign, at which point our friend flew away as fast as his gimpy little wings would carry him. Sometime if ever we are all lucky enough to be in the same room together, you simply must make LBG act out her fly on the windshield moment. I think she misses him daily. (w)

I can so relate to the "almost getting killed" part....Now we see who spins the web...the spider, or the fly? muwahahahahahahaha (i)

[QueenofQueens]

This post just made my day!!! I can't stop grinning now! I have a story for all lovers of dogs, the surreal and the absurd:
Twice a year there is an event in downtown Houston Texas called the Westheimer Festival. It was renamed simply Art Festival a few years back and moved to dead-center downtown because the powers that be wanted to promote it as more of a family event. You see, Westheimer and Montrose (formerly the heart of the festival) is the four corners of queerdom in Houston - rainbow flags from the light poles, leather bars and stores, resale shops, clubs, piercing and tattoo salons - all for the gay community and during festival don't ya know the queer peeps were out in force!
On one such occasion I was walking down the street perusing the various art booths, homemade jewelry and eating the free Hari Krishna food when I noticed this poor labrador retriever burning his feet on the hot sidewalk and panting wildly because it was so freakin' hot. I said to myself, outloud, "I can't believe that dude is making his dog suffer like that" and about that time a queer leather boy walked past in his leather chastity thong with a red Radio Flyer wagon in tow - inside the wagon was his small doggie and I said "that is so much nicer for the puppy". On second glance however I realized that the puppy was very still... dead still... because his owner had him stuffed after he died and was now walking around with his stuffed former and apparently most beloved doggie in a red wagon! I couldn't do anything but stand there, dropping my free rice off my plate, speechless. When I finally did snap I just shrugged and said to myself "I guess everybody likes to bring their doggies down here".



So much for making it family friendly...unless they change it to an "Art and Dead Pets" festival, of course...(o)

[QueenofQueens]

Here are some random, recent, Florida sightings all involving the power of the written word.

1) During the "Great Immigration Freak-out" a white man dressed in sarape and sombrero, seated next to an abandoned gas station and holding a sign that read "Remember the Alamo". (i)

2) A pick-up truck, hurtling down the road at top-speed, painted to look like a nuclear holocaust fireball. Atop the fireball are painted the words "On Fire For Jesus". (p)

3) An adolescent sprinting down the sidewalk at top-leg, clutching a sign that read "I Steal Cell Phones and Cash". :[

[astarte]

Haaaaaaaaa, I do that too! I used to drive my sister crazy pretending I was the voice of her food screaming for mercy! :D

*gasp* :o my older sister did the same exact thing!!!

My best friend in high school dropped acid once and swore that her soft taco was screaming at her “DON’T EAT ME!” She threw it to the ground and stomped the life out of it. Poor little taco. Not hurting anyone.

[Apocalipstic]

One of my exes calls me at work because a grasshopper is on her car looking at her and no matter how fast she drives it wont get off the car. She thinks it is taunting her.

[TxHarleyBoi]

Here are some random, recent, Florida sightings all involving the power of the written word.

1) During the "Great Immigration Freak-out" a white man dressed in sarape and sombrero, seated next to an abandoned gas station and holding a sign that read "Remember the Alamo". (i)

2) A pick-up truck, hurtling down the road at top-speed, painted to look like a nuclear holocaust fireball. Atop the fireball are painted the words "On Fire For Jesus". (p)

3) An adolescent sprinting down the sidewalk at top-leg, clutching a sign that read "I Steal Cell Phones and Cash". :[

The welcome wagon for southern Florida is revamping the gift baskets to include bumper stickers that read "I brake for no apparent reason" and "Yes, my hair really is blue". The baskets will be handed out at the local DMV offices as the seasonal folks apply for the Florida Only license because their home state took them away long ago... For the middle aged folks the lapel pin reading "Florida, home of the free hurricane blow-job" will be exchanged for bright pink t-shirts.

[Apocalipstic]

Beautiful Tennessee where funerals always involve someone trying to climb in the casket with the body....or at least in my family they do. :|

Do funeral homes have big grills out back in other states?

[TxHarleyBoi]

Beautiful Tennessee where funerals always involve someone trying to climb in the casket with the body....or at least in my family they do. :|

Do funeral homes have big grills out back in other states?

In my family it's the Irish Wake - the casket is propped up in the corner, open and everybody drinks their pints for three days while toasting (as in an epitaph not fire-roasted) the dearly departed standing in the corner...

:| uh, grills? :s "Fried Green Tomatoes" movie line "secret's in the sauce"

[Apocalipstic]

:| uh, grills? :s "Fried Green Tomatoes" movie line "secret's in the sauce"

Grills, huge ones!
and yes, I always remember that scene and wince.

[TxHarleyBoi]

Grills, huge ones!
and yes, I always remember that scene and wince.

I'll have to be more attentive to the funeral homes down here in southern Florida but I don't remember seeing any in Texas...

[evolveme]

Beautiful Tennessee where funerals always involve someone trying to climb in the casket with the body....or at least in my family they do. :|

Do funeral homes have big grills out back in other states?

I am six years old.

My Uncle Burt has died unexpectedly.

Back history: Uncle Burt was married many long hard years to Crazy Aunt Zadie.

Zadie was known for always dressing to the nines and for hating Burt's ever living guts. She has him live in another house. He may only "court" her on Sundays, carrying her to church and to lunch at the Magnolia Cafe.

She has a bird she has taught to speak. As Burt comes up the walk to take her for their Sunday courting, the bird squawks, "Here comes that sonofabitch!"

At his funeral, I am sitting between my Granny and my Great Aunt Buella at the Primative Baptist Church in nowhereville, Mississippi. The preacher starts preaching when in walks Crazy Aunt Zadie. All dressed in black. Hat with veil. Gloves. She is clacking her little black pumps down the pine boards through the center of that church. Everybody is quiet. Granny is fanny herself.

Zadie walks up to Uncle Burts open casket, removes her glove, and

slaps his dead face.

Then she turned on her heel and marched out.



I don't recall there being a grill out back.

[evolveme]

I work for an entertainment company, and we are at a tasting for L'ete du Vin, ad huge fundraiser for the American Cancer Society.

The chairpersons for the event are older than God, Southern Divas who have had too many face lifts and even more husbands.

I ask one of them, who incidentally is named Teeny and isn't and is in an Elizabeth Taylor turban with a huge broach on it, what she thinks of the centerpiece. She says "Honey I love it so much I want to get up on the table and fuck it!"

And so it went.....

Oh my.

How truly...

WONDERFUL!

It's women like this that make this place great. *sigh*

[QueenofQueens]

My dear departed Uncle was a bombastic Aquarian. He knew many, many people in the town where I grew up and the surrounding area. During the course of his life he was a lawyer, a local newspaper editor and a volunteer firefighter. He also was outright hilarious and given to moments of slapstick. My mother and aunt, knowing full well that he would have enjoyed the pomp and circunstance, decided to have a firefighters funeral for him. What a lush display, complete with a firetruck procession throughout the town and a formal au revoir by all the firefighters from several county units, in full dress uniform.

As part of the formality of the affair, my family and I were seated in a line in the funeral home during the wake. Two by two the firefighters made their way to my uncle's casket to say goodbye. Then they would offer their hands to us in condolence.I was seated between my blindly weeping mother and my visually impaired sister when I looked up to take the hand of the next firefighter. That's when I noticed his wee cranium and did a double take to make sure I wasn't hallucinating....You see this particular firefighter was a microcephalic, which literally means tiny head. His head was the size of my two fists people. And no I'm not making fun of the differently abled...but come the fuck on.... Here I was between my weeping mother and my blind sister, witnessing a living apple head doll at my uncle's funeral and not even being able to shout it from the rooftop!!! Not even able to poke my mom or sister, knowing full well that I was THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW IT, IN A ROOMFUL OF PEOPLE...the people who knew him obviously don't count. I knew that somewhere my uncle was laughing at my pain. (*)

[Apocalipstic]

:D Funerals are the best!

I love both of those stories! What a wonderful thread QofQ! (f)

[TxHarleyBoi]

I am six years old.

My Uncle Burt has died unexpectedly.

Back history: Uncle Burt was married many long hard years to Crazy Aunt Zadie.

Zadie was known for always dressing to the nines and for hating Burt's ever living guts. She has him live in another house. He may only "court" her on Sundays, carrying her to church and to lunch at the Magnolia Cafe.

She has a bird she has taught to speak. As Burt comes up the walk to take her for their Sunday courting, the bird squawks, "Here comes that sonofabitch!"

At his funeral, I am sitting between my Granny and my Great Aunt Buella at the Primative Baptist Church in nowhereville, Mississippi. The preacher starts preaching when in walks Crazy Aunt Zadie. All dressed in black. Hat with veil. Gloves. She is clacking her little black pumps down the pine boards through the center of that church. Everybody is quiet. Granny is fanny herself.

Zadie walks up to Uncle Burts open casket, removes her glove, and

slaps his dead face.

Then she turned on her heel and marched out.



I don't recall there being a grill out back.


Hot damn I love southern women! Hell I love the south! There is just nothing like the southern way of life, justice or expressing one's self! Dammit I miss Texas! (The only thang from Texas is steers n queers an' I don't see yer horns!) duh...


I work for an entertainment company, and we are at a tasting for L'ete du Vin, ad huge fundraiser for the American Cancer Society.

The chairpersons for the event are older than God, Southern Divas who have had too many face lifts and even more husbands.

I ask one of them, who incidentally is named Teeny and isn't and is in an Elizabeth Taylor turban with a huge broach on it, what she thinks of the centerpiece. She says "Honey I love it so much I want to get up on the table and fuck it!"

And so it went.....


Oh my.

How truly...

WONDERFUL!

It's women like this that make this place great. *sigh*


Grinnin' like crazy!!! Thank you both for your stories!

[QueenofQueens]

:D Funerals are the best!

I love both of those stories! What a wonderful thread QofQ! (f)


Thanks 'lipstic..I'm glad you're here sharing in the lunacy...:)

[sthrnbelle]

OK, I'm dying over here..LOL...I find it curious that only us "southerners" are visiting this thread. Hmmmm. We are a wonderful breed aren't we.;)

[Apocalipstic]

Maybe as Southerners lunacy is all we have to cling to????

[QueenofQueens]

OK, I'm dying over here..LOL...I find it curious that only us "southerners" are visiting this thread. Hmmmm. We are a wonderful breed aren't we.;)


Inhabited by Southerners and ring-led by a Northener. Wait, I'm actually ancestrally from further South then any of you so, I stand corrected... heehee. ;)

[BCtboi]

Picture it. Memorial Day 2006. My girlfriend's parents had decided to have a party, inviting all the hired help as well as others.

Earlier in the day, we had noticed that the neighbors had decided to put 8345798877 pink flamingos over their lawn. After lots of food and way too much alcohol, my girlfriend's mother insists that we go across the street and STEAL THE DAMN THINGS! My girlfriend, her brother, mother and cousin take at least 2 each. We ran back inside (I'm barefoot and have a beer in my hand) with our score. I don't remember who, but someone had the idea to go to the cemetary and place them on my girlfriend's grandparent's grave.

[Apocalipstic]

Inhabited by Southerners and ring-led by a Northener. Wait, I'm actually ancestrally from further South then any of you so, I stand corrected... heehee. ;)


Ha, I am from Argentina, beat that! ;)

[Apocalipstic]

Picture it. Memorial Day 2006. My girlfriend's parents had decided to have a party, inviting all the hired help as well as others.

Earlier in the day, we had noticed that the neighbors had decided to put 8345798877 pink flamingos over their lawn. After lots of food and way too much alcohol, my girlfriend's mother insists that we go across the street and STEAL THE DAMN THINGS! My girlfriend, her brother, mother and cousin take at least 2 each. We ran back inside (I'm barefoot and have a beer in my hand) with our score. I don't remember who, but someone had the idea to go to the cemetary and place them on my girlfriend's grandparent's grave.

LMAO

Good times! :D

[sthrnbelle]

Oh nothing beats the good ole' July 4th fireworks my mamma would like with her cigarette whilst everyone else was running for cover. Good times-actually they really were.:| ;)

[BCtboi]

LMAO

Good times! :D

We call it The Great Flamingo Heist.

the video is on YouTube somewhere. If I can remember Kacy's username, I'll post a link for it.

[QueenofQueens]

We call it The Great Flamingo Heist.

the video is on YouTube somewhere. If I can remember Kacy's username, I'll post a link for it.

You have video? You get a 10 for execution. *wild applause*

[TxHarleyBoi]

In Texas there are fire ants - this is a breed of ant that bites the livin' crap out of you and has a potent poison that burns like hell - hence the name. A common activity for Texas who are mowing their yard is to douse the ant hills in gasoline and burn 'em dead. Most times the hill was found by stepping in it and then running, screaming, tearing off boots and socks toward the hose to get the suckers off your skin. So, after such a mad dash I was pissed, grabbed the 3 gallon gas can and drowned those little bastards and lit 'em up. Paybacks are a bitch however, and after they sizzled for a while, I tried to stamp the fire out - big mistake. The canals underground had fumes and gasoline in them and when I stomped down they were realeased, starting my jeans on fire. Yep, back to the hose I went. No injuries, needed new jeans though. Best of all those ants were gone!

[TxHarleyBoi]

We call it The Great Flamingo Heist.

the video is on YouTube somewhere. If I can remember Kacy's username, I'll post a link for it.

LMAO dude! In Florida it is a felony to lift flamingos from the over 55 communities... ;)

[BCtboi]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ta3QoIx3fRc

[sthrnbelle]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ta3QoIx3fRc

yep, that get's a solid 10. I almost peed my pants. I loved it when she said she was un-assuming looking:D

[evolveme]

Picture it. Memorial Day 2006. My girlfriend's parents had decided to have a party, inviting all the hired help as well as others.

Earlier in the day, we had noticed that the neighbors had decided to put 8345798877 pink flamingos over their lawn. After lots of food and way too much alcohol, my girlfriend's mother insists that we go across the street and STEAL THE DAMN THINGS! My girlfriend, her brother, mother and cousin take at least 2 each. We ran back inside (I'm barefoot and have a beer in my hand) with our score. I don't remember who, but someone had the idea to go to the cemetary and place them on my girlfriend's grandparent's grave.

I see that you are in Tennessee.

Where this is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

[Lady C Sparkle]

I (l) this thread, thank you QofQ!

Ok....my spooky surreal.

The last company I worked for in London was based on the Royal Arsenal (http://http://johnsmilitaryhistory.com/woolwich.html)<---pic here a 17th Century military base - grand historic buildings, cobbled walks (no thru traffic) and right on the Thames. It was a gorgeous site and was being revitalized in to shi-shi condos. But at the time none of the condos were finished and there were only a few businesses installed.

Our office faced the river, about 20yards from the pier which was not open to the public yet.

At the end of a very very long day, I left the office...it had started to snow, it was beautiful (and rare - seeing snow in London) - and eerily quiet - no foot prints, no people, no noise...

I locked up and turned around and found myself staring at a GHOST SHIP (http://http://www.hotpixels.com/Photo/Other/other-03/body_other-03.htm). <---THIS
The HMS Endeavor(Captain John Cook's Ship circa 1696)

It had arrived with no sound. Docked on our pier. And as I stood there I thought....

Fuck: Its a ghost ship, or a pirate ship OR A GHOST PIRATE SHIP....and its come to take me away and i am absolutely stark raving mad and no one is here and I can't help myself getting as close as possible to it ...

I was terrified. And yet utterly compelled to know...
The normally locked gate at the pier was banging open in the wind.....there were no signs of people. I inched all the way down the ramp of the pier.....before someone popped up on deck and said in a chirpy voice: 'Allo Matey (:|) - I jumped and screamed and then laughed hysterically and hyperventilated a bit...

As it turns out. It docked there for a few days. The crew were lovely Aussies who gave me a tour....But for about 10minutes as I cautiously approached this bizarre aparation in the silent snowy night on a very old historic site......., I was convinced I was insane and/or the ship WAS a ghost ship or an alien ship disguised as a pirate/ghost ship...........:|

[BCtboi]

I see that you are in Tennessee.

Where this is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.


It really is. Some people I told about the Heist didn't even flinch! I myself almost peed myself more than once. We don't have fun like that back in Canada. :s

[turino]

I have no stories..never have...I just love all yours ...I will be back to try to be witty and stay on topic and come up with a story or two..and e I love your mother.

flamingos!!!!!! Midgets!!!! ex-husbands!!!! 357s!!!!! love all these

[evolveme]

Of course, I could go on and on about my mama, and I will, because she is the most absurd cookie I have ever met.

I hope y'all don't get sick of hearing about her.

If you do, I have Phenegran. :|

[evolveme]

Mama once worked for a convent for retired nuns in the little town in South Mississippi that claims a place on the map for two legendary reasons (other than it hosts a convent for retired nuns):

It is the place where Lynard Skynard's plane went down. Some say they see his ghost hanging about sometimes.

It is the place where the Chatawa Monster is said to dwell. Some say they see this monster hanging about sometimes.

Once, after dropping too many hits of acid, my friend Jeff said he saw both the ghost of Lynard Skynard and the Chatawa Monster hanging about with the nuns. But that is an entirely different story of the abusrdly surreal.

At any rate, Mama was working as the secretery for the head nun, whom she lovingly referred to as Atilla the Nun. She believed that Atilla the Nun had both an unholy crush on her and wished to make her life a living hell.

One otherwise quiet afternoon when everybody was working away, Atilla the Nun reprimanded Mama openly for some infraction of check writing policy. Mama was so furious that she plotted revenge.

As Atilla the Nun was coming up the stairs, Mama...

"grabbed a statue off the wall to hit her with."

"What kind of statue, Mama?"

"Oh, I don't know, Madonna and Child, I guess!"

So not only assault of a nun, but blasphemy.

She was discharged immediately. She sued. She lost.

[QueenofQueens]

Lady C ~ Yay! You're here!! I love your Ghost Ship tale. Haven't we all at some point felt as though we were on the threshhold of the other world?

e ~ You may litter the streets with as many mom tales as you wish. We are eager and honored to have you share them...:)

[NYFemmie]

My mama despises Yankees. She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey.
She believes all Yankees come from New Jersey, have a nasal-y voice, and speak entirely too loudly.


:| *opens mouth to say something, but suddenly finds herself at a loss for words....* *closes mouth* :|

[joectigger]

So not only assault of a nun, but blasphemy.

She was discharged immediately. She sued. She lost.


Can I be adopted by your momma? She just rocks! ;)

[Apocalipstic]

I love this thread! :)

OK, so I used to work in hotels.

One weekend when I was Manager on Duty, I got a bizarre call from security.

Female security guard was walking past women's locker room and heard screams.

When she investigated she found a woman actually giving birth in the bathroom.

She was screaming "It's not mine"

[Apocalipstic]

Same hotel....

Co-worker tells me her tent was attacked by the spirit of Sasquatch while camping in East TN. I see a theme with mosnsters here.

Oh and E, I love your Momma stories :D :D :D :D :D

[QueenofQueens]

OK, this;




It is the place where Lynard Skynard's plane went down. Some say they see his ghost hanging about sometimes.

It is the place where the Chatawa Monster is said to dwell. Some say they see this monster hanging about sometimes.

Once, after dropping too many hits of acid, my friend Jeff said he saw both the ghost of Lynard Skynard and the Chatawa Monster hanging about with the nuns. But that is an entirely different story of the abusrdly surreal. .

and this;




One otherwise quiet afternoon when everybody was working away, Atilla the Nun reprimanded Mama openly for some infraction of check writing policy. Mama was so furious that she plotted revenge.

As Atilla the Nun was coming up the stairs, Mama...

"grabbed a statue off the wall to hit her with."

"What kind of statue, Mama?"

"Oh, I don't know, Madonna and Child, I guess!"

So not only assault of a nun, but blasphemy.

She was discharged immediately. She sued. She lost.


...have made me FURIOUS with glee! Not since the Iron Chef challenge against Bobby Flay have I wanted to run around the room and stand on my head, but this has brought me there. *clenching fists amd gritting teeth* (p)

[joectigger]

I love this thread! :)

OK, so I used to work in hotels.

One weekend when I was Manager on Duty, I got a bizarre call from security.

Female security guard was walking past women's locker room and heard screams.

When she investigated she found a woman actually giving birth in the bathroom.

She was screaming "It's not mine"


Now that is just hilarious. :D

I am sure you have many of these up your sleeve pink confection. (y)

[evolveme]

e ~ You may litter the streets with as many mom tales as you wish. We are eager and honored to have you share them...:)


Hold on, hold on, hold on.

You must understand that they are expressly Mama Tales.

When I was a child my mother told me that I could call her 'Mama' or I could call her 'Janice' but that I could NOT call her 'Mom' as this was 'too Yankeefied' and she would simply not stand for it. (nor could I ever call her any spiteful thing) :|

I chose Mama, but I mostly call her Janice when I referrence her in rl. Mama just works for these stories.

Anyway, never 'Mom'. Her wishes. ;)

[QueenofQueens]

'Lipstic, you're killin' me....
Are you sure this place wasn't the hotel from "The Shining"? (g)

[QueenofQueens]

Oopsy...I apologize for the faux pas...;)
I should've known better based upon my my mom's pathological hatred of the word "mother".
Calling her that was strictly verboten..... :o :|




Hold on, hold on, hold on.

You must understand that they are expressly Mama Tales.

When I was a child my mother told me that I could call her 'Mama' or I could call her 'Janice' but that I could NOT call her 'Mom' as this was 'too Yankeefied' and she would simply not stand for it. (nor could I ever call her any spiteful thing) :|

I chose Mama, but I mostly call her Janice when I referrence her in rl. Mama just works for these stories.

Anyway, never 'Mom'. Her wishes. ;)

[Apocalipstic]

Heh, OK, same hotel....

Louis Farrakhan of the Nation of Islam is staying at hotel.

For three blocks out there are Nation of Islam security dudes every 10 feet.

Secret Service is there.

Bomb dogs are there.

Front desk clerks Chianti and Tequila (real names) ask one of the security dudes if there is a bow tie convention in the hotel.

[astarte]

Oh mothers, mamas, moms...we are all insane. ;)

My mother brings a roll of toilet paper tucked inside her purse when visiting friends and family. She does not wish to “inconvenience” them by using their precious tp supply. Every time she’s about ready to do her business I’ll notice that her hand starts oh so subtly creeping towards her bag. She always fires off a few abrupt coughs to distract anyone who might notice. Then she’ll lean in close to whoever the unfortunate hostess is and whispers, “Is it okay if I use your restroom?” And then just in case someone might be on the fence about granting her permission she’ll add “don’t worry…I’ve brought my own toilet paper.” This of course is followed by the obligatory opening of the handbag to demonstrate that she is not fibbing about said toilet paper. And she pees A LOT. So it's not like it happens only once in an evening. She's special.

[Apocalipstic]

We have to call my Father..Poppy.
Only our Heavenly Father is a Father.

:|

Mr. Cynthia is a Yankee
that is way more shocking than the fact that she is female. ;)

[Apocalipstic]

Oh mothers, mamas, moms...we are all insane. ;)

My mother brings a roll of toilet paper tucked inside her purse when visiting friends and family. She does not wish to “inconvenience” them by using their precious tp supply. Every time she’s about ready to do her business I’ll notice that her hand starts oh so subtly creeping towards her bag. She always fires off a few abrupt coughs to distract anyone who might notice. Then she’ll lean in close to whoever the unfortunate hostess is and whispers, “Is it okay if I use your restroom?” And then just in case someone might be on the fence about granting her permission she’ll add “don’t worry…I’ve brought my own toilet paper.” This of course is followed by the obligatory opening of the handbag to demonstrate that she is not fibbing about said toilet paper. And she pees A LOT. So it's not like it happens only once in an evening. She's special.

I love that!!!!

Aunt Jessie carried hers up her sleeve.

She was the one Uncle Froggie tried to climb in the casket with recently. He thought her body was crooked. In reality, since WWII, he is crooked.

[QueenofQueens]

Front desk clerks Chianti and Tequila (real names) ask one of the security dudes if there is a bow tie convention in the hotel.

I'm gonna squee....I swear to god.
*laughing and wiping tears from my eyes*

[evolveme]

Oh mothers, mamas, moms...we are all insane. ;)

My mother brings a roll of toilet paper tucked inside her purse when visiting friends and family. She does not wish to “inconvenience” them by using their precious tp supply. Every time she’s about ready to do her business I’ll notice that her hand starts oh so subtly creeping towards her bag. She always fires off a few abrupt coughs to distract anyone who might notice. Then she’ll lean in close to whoever the unfortunate hostess is and whispers, “Is it okay if I use your restroom?” And then just in case someone might be on the fence about granting her permission she’ll add “don’t worry…I’ve brought my own toilet paper.” This of course is followed by the obligatory opening of the handbag to demonstrate that she is not fibbing about said toilet paper. And she pees A LOT. So it's not like it happens only once in an evening. She's special.

I

LOVE

YOUR

MAMA.

[evolveme]

:|

Mr. Cynthia is a Yankee
that is way more shocking than the fact that she is female. ;)

Who's yo Mama? ;)

[astarte]

yes us too. We were given a choice between calling my father Art (first name) or sir. He was convinced that two his daughters calling him dad would result in him being taken advantage of.

And we wonder why we're all queer...?!? :|

I think we could write one hell of a bestseller my friends! (k)

[homeboi]

so I'm the worst story teller in the world...but I am a lover of good surreal stories. anyone mind if I hitch a ride and hang with ya'll for a spell? you're sure making a gloomy day shimmer!(y)

[QueenofQueens]

e and Asti ~ Why do I suspect that all of our moms/mamas should form a bowling league? :|

Homeboi ~ Yay!! Welcome, have some tea from a fur teacup and make yourself at home. ;)

[Apocalipstic]

So, the company I work for assisted in the scenery and music production for the Miracle Theater in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.

There are huge billboards all over the road to the Smokies with huge devils eyes and a caption that reads...."He is watching"

The show opens with the Resurrection Quartet which has five (5) members. :|

On opening night the donkey carrying "Jesus" up on stage in the Palm Sunday scene freaked out and hurled "Jesus" into the audience...taking out the entire front row.

They can't see to figure out a way to keep the camels from peeing on stage, so the entire theater smells like pee.

The fly rigs broke and two of the flying angels crashed into each other and were hanging in midair, wings and all. The video backing up the angels looks like a huge poultry fight (probably to get more local audience, since poultry fighting is what they do for fun up there ;) )

Next door to the Miracle Theater is the It's Fixin' 2 Rain theater. It is a puppet show about Noah and the ark all done in puppets...hillbilly style.

I love Tennessee.

[evolveme]

This is an example of what happens when we allow Philistines to do theatre.

[Apocalipstic]

If it did not cost 40 bucks, I would go see the wet puppets and take pictures.

[NYFemmie]

Picture this ...

High school, circa, 1982 or so .. four girls joyriding in a car, tripping on some dumb crap we decided to experiment with that night ... drove down by the hudson river - factories everywhere .. great place to hang out and get lost from the world for a while...

drove towards a gatehouse - must have been around 1130-1200 midnight ... all four of us see three kids running from the gatehouse to the factory building. At first, not a thought - but then we realized it was late and why were there three kids down by the waterfront at that hour?... we drove back around ...

We ask eachother - YOU DID SEE THAT RIGHT? we all agreed....

they ran from the building back into the gatehouse - we were still quite a distance away, but you can clearly see them running ... we get to the gatehouse.... no one.
We look around thinking - okay, they must have ran out of the gatehouse to someplace else... we drive back around.

We ask eachother - YOU DID SEE THAT RIGHT? we all agreed....
(but no one had a thought to actually get out of the car, mind you)

So - one more trip around, we don't see them ... we drive past the factory building and in the rear view mirror my friend screams "THERE THEY ARE" ... we turn around and see shadows running back to the gatehouse. She stops the car... drives in reverse ... we all get out ... we go to the gatehouse ... NOTHING. We walk around the building - not a soul. We look at eachother and ask - you DID see that right? We all, once again agreed. We checked for open doors, looked down stairwells, tried to figure out where could three kids go? where could they hide? Nada.

My friend utters .... "they're fucking imps, man". We all crack up. We all also look at eachother like, WTF? I suggested that the next time we hang out, we stick to alcohol.

[littlebear]

I am originaly from New York.I came down south to Ft.Pierce Fla.,when I was about 5.I was visiting my step grandparents.They owned a small grocery store/gas station. I was happily helping my grand dad pump gas.A women pulls up and I ask "Regular or High test" (yes,it was the 50's) and she says,"Oh,so your a yankee" (I had know idea what a yankee was other than a baseball team,of which I was not a fan of said team). So I replied "No I am not! I AM A GIANT! " and I stormed off.
My grandfather later explained what she ment.He also said he was laughing so hard,because the woman had such a confused look on her face (obviously she knew nothing of baseball) thinkin I was just another wacky yankee.

[homeboi]

So, the company I work for assisted in the scenery and music production for the Miracle Theater in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.

There are huge billboards all over the road to the Smokies with huge devils eyes and a caption that reads...."He is watching"

The show opens with the Resurrection Quartet which has five (5) members. :|

On opening night the donkey carrying "Jesus" up on stage in the Palm Sunday scene freaked out and hurled "Jesus" into the audience...taking out the entire front row.

They can't see to figure out a way to keep the camels from peeing on stage, so the entire theater smells like pee.

The fly rigs broke and two of the flying angels crashed into each other and were hanging in midair, wings and all. The video backing up the angels looks like a huge poultry fight (probably to get more local audience, since poultry fighting is what they do for fun up there ;) )

Next door to the Miracle Theater is the It's Fixin' 2 Rain theater. It is a puppet show about Noah and the ark all done in puppets...hillbilly style.

I love Tennessee.

ya'll are cracking me the hell up! I feel like I gotta *twang* in here a little..;)

[QueenofQueens]

When I was a dread-lock sporting young woman and my darling daughter was a wee babe in swaddling clothes, her father and I put her in a basket and decided to take a fambily road trip. The three of us made our way out of NYC by crappy pick-up truck. We ambled down the Northeast corridor, through the imposing and beautiful Smoky mountains. We made our way through Tennessee with a mandatory pilgrimage to Graceland, ventured to Austin TX to visit a friend and finally made our way to the haunting deserts of the Southwest.

After our exploration West was complete, we began the Journey home. Through the flatlands and under the St. Louis Arch we went. Rolling thru the lovely green hills of Ohio until finally we found the outer perimeter of the state that is the bane of my existence as an experienced driver; PENNSYLVANIA (or to those in the know, Pennsyltucky).

If anyone has ever had the displeasure of traversing the state of Pennsylvania from west to east, you will understand how exhausted we were when stopping at a rest area somewher near Harrisburg at 3:00 a.m. The state is inexorably wide, the roads are complete ASS, and when you live in NY or NJ it is the dreaded home stretch for any journey back from the west.

We pulled the crappy pick-up into the rest area parking lot, eagerly anticipating our cold beverages and soon to be empty bladders. At three in the morning, after driving all day, it would be easy to assume you were hallucinating, so when we walked into the lobby I looked at N__ to make sure I wasn't losing my marbles or dreaming. Standing near the Claw machine, correction, PLAYING, the claw machine at three in the morning were a multi-generational family of Amish peeps. Children, adult females, and grandfatherly male. In full bonnet and wooly clothed regalia. Oh and you need to know that they were SMOKING. Not the kid mind you, but still.
So now you know what those "Living la Vida Anachronista" do to let off steam.

~MQoQ

[Apocalipstic]

My friend utters .... "they're fucking imps, man". We all crack up. We all also look at eachother like, WTF? I suggested that the next time we hang out, we stick to alcohol.

:D
I hear they prefer to be called little people.
ROF

I LOVE this thread....
Pinheads
Mommas
Babies
TP
Crazy Dad's
Little People
Flamingos

All of it! (y)

[QueenofQueens]

So - one more trip around, we don't see them ... we drive past the factory building and in the rear view mirror my friend screams "THERE THEY ARE" ... we turn around and see shadows running back to the gatehouse. She stops the car... drives in reverse ... we all get out ... we go to the gatehouse ... NOTHING. We walk around the building - not a soul. We look at eachother and ask - you DID see that right? We all, once again agreed. We checked for open doors, looked down stairwells, tried to figure out where could three kids go? where could they hide? Nada.
.


Welcome, my homestate homie. Oh yes, this counts. As you and I know, there is no place weirder than NJ. ;)

xox

[Apocalipstic]

When I was a dread-lock sporting young woman and my darling daughter was a wee babe in swaddling clothes, her father and I put her in a basket and decided to take a fambily road trip. The three of us made our way out of NYC by crappy pick-up truck. We ambled down the Northeast corridor, through the imposing and beautiful Smoky mountains. We made our way through Tennessee with a mandatory pilgrimage to Graceland, ventured to Austin TX to visit a friend and finally made our way to the haunting deserts of the Southwest.

After our exploration West was complete, we began the Journey home. Through the flatlands and under the St. Louis Arch we went. Rolling thru the lovely green hills of Ohio until finally we found the outer perimeter of the state that is the bane of my existence as an experienced driver; PENNSYLVANIA (or to those in the know, Pennsyltucky).

If anyone has ever had the displeasure of traversing the state of Pennsylvania from west to east, you will understand how exhausted we were when stopping at a rest area somewher near Harrisburg at 3:00 a.m. The state is inexorably wide, the roads are complete ASS, and when you live in NY or NJ it is the dreaded home stretch for any journey back from the west.

We pulled the crappy pick-up into the rest area parking lot, eagerly anticipating our cold beverages and soon to be empty bladders. At three in the morning, after driving all day, it would be easy to assume you were hallucinating, so when we walked into the lobby I looked at N__ to make sure I wasn't losing my marbles or dreaming. Standing near the Claw machine, correction, PLAYING, the claw machine at three in the morning were a multi-generational family of Amish peeps. Children, adult females, and grandfatherly male. In full bonnet and wooly clothed regalia. Oh and you need to know that they were SMOKING. Not the kid mind you, but still.
So now you know what those "Living la Vida Anachronista" do to let off steam.

~MQoQ

Snort, them Amish is WILD. :)

I was in dreadful Tunica, Mississippi...gambling capital of the cotton fields....
I the middle of the Hollywood Casino, was a huge table of smoking Amish playing poker. :|

[Mr_Cynthia]

We have to call my Father..Poppy.
Only our Heavenly Father is a Father.

:|

Mr. Cynthia is a Yankee
that is way more shocking than the fact that she is female. ;)

Yes, I am a Yankee.

However, my grandmother was born and raised on a mountain in Virginia.

Grandma and her sisters' favorite game was "Salem Witch Trial," in which they would tie one of them up and attempt to drown and/or set her on fire. If she survived, she wasn't a witch.

Grandma's only brother, my Uncle Bubby, had to wait an extra year to go to school. He wasn't "slow," they were just too poor to buy him boy's clothes and he wore his sister's hand-me-down dresses until he was seven.

Uncle Bubby is now 75 yrs old. He drives a 300 ZX with a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand, and his latest adventure involved shooting his best friend (not fatally) over a woman half his age.

[QueenofQueens]

I am originaly from New York.I came down south to Ft.Pierce Fla.,when I was about 5.I was visiting my step grandparents.They owned a small grocery store/gas station. I was happily helping my grand dad pump gas.A women pulls up and I ask "Regular or High test" (yes,it was the 50's) and she says,"Oh,so your a yankee" (I had know idea what a yankee was other than a baseball team,of which I was not a fan of said team). So I replied "No I am not! I AM A GIANT! " and I stormed off.
My grandfather later explained what she ment.He also said he was laughing so hard,because the woman had such a confused look on her face (obviously she knew nothing of baseball) thinkin I was just another wacky yankee.

Welcome, LB ~ Wee people are the ultimate surrealists, aren't they? ;)

[SassyLeo]

One day, I was walking in downtown Santa Cruz and bumped into a Butch Femme couple, friends of mine...and we stopped on the corner to chat. We were deep in conversation and debate about something, when the infamous >>Umbrella Man (http://www.flickr.com/photos/g_w_y_n/4711232/)<< came into my view walking towards us...

The Umbrella Man is a local weirdo who dresses all in pink, carries an umbrella and has a perpetual smile on his face. He walks very slowly... like inching...and spends his entire day walking up and down >>Pacific Ave (http://www.downtownsantacruz.com/)<<...

So my friends and are standing there talking and he gets really close to us and stops moving. We notice that he won't walk around us. My Butch friend (who is kinda fierce, like old school gruff) just looks at him, like -go around us, can't you see we are talking- and the Umbrella Man just stands there. I try to engage with the Umbrella Man... -hey can you just go around us?- He just keeps standing there smiling.

So my Butch friend starts to get annoyed that he; 1-is standing really close to us, like in our bizness... 2-that he won't move... 3-that he won't talk to any of us or acknowledge that we are speaking... after about 5 minutes, my friend is really irritated and she says -WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?-

So he just smiles and stares at her...she is infuriated. By this time there are all kinds of people standing around thinking there is going to be some kind of screaming match. Finally, hys partner says -R, come on, let it go-

And I'm thinking... this is not working. So I take a step back, creating a small space between the 3 of us.

The Umbrella Man nods his head at each of us, smiles, twirls his umbrella and inches his way right through us and continues >>his slow walk down Pacific Ave (http://msgilligan.blogspot.com/2006/03/umbrella-man-slow-walks-pacific-avenue.html)<<...

To my knowledge, he never speaks.

[turino]

Just want you all to know that this cannot go on without me compiling my best dirt poor Italian Immigrant stories for all of you...This seems to be the Southerner thread...do folks from southern Italy count?
Afterall, my stories should count my mother has an undiagnosed mental illness and makes for good thread fodder all by herself

[NYFemmie]

Welcome, my homestate homie. Oh yes, this counts. As you and I know, there is no place weirder than NJ. ;)

xox

Reina ... ain't that the truth. :|
lol ... when I can flash myself back, I'll give you some more.

xoxo

[Apocalipstic]

Yes, I am a Yankee.

However, my grandmother was born and raised on a mountain in Virginia.

Grandma and her sisters' favorite game was "Salem Witch Trial," in which they would tie one of them up and attempt to drown and/or set her on fire. If she survived, she wasn't a witch.

Grandma's only brother, my Uncle Bubby, had to wait an extra year to go to school. He wasn't "slow," they were just too poor to buy him boy's clothes and he wore his sister's hand-me-down dresses until he was seven.

Uncle Bubby is now 75 yrs old. He drives a 300 ZX with a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand, and his latest adventure involved shooting his best friend (not fatally) over a woman half his age.

Honey, does it bother you that I call Yankees "Sausage eatin' Motherfuckers" ? (k) (k) (k)

[Mr_Cynthia]

Honey, does it bother you that I call Yankees "Sausage eatin' Motherfuckers" ? (k) (k) (k)
Would you stop if it did? ;)

Besides, we DO have a disturbing appreciation for extruded meat emulsions.

[NYFemmie]

Honey, does it bother you that I call Yankees "Sausage eatin' Motherfuckers" ? (k) (k) (k)

Heyyyyy :@ Yankee here ...... :@ um ....

What kind of sausage? :|

[evolveme]

Q's story just reminded me of something un-Mama related.

One of my oldest dearest galpals is an earthy pixie chickie who had traveled up to Michigan for the Rainbow Gathering one year. Well, she was corresponding with me via payphone pretty regular to keep me posted on the magical details of her journey.

It seemed she'd fallen in love at first sight.

The Rainbow People were doing one of their nifty drumming dancing chanting thingies when my friend looks across the field and notices a boy noticing her. What caught her eye, and her (l) was that he was the only other person there sleeping in a hammock. A hammock he had also handmade (just like her). Whoa, man. And then, to make things even more talking crystal power magic wow wow, they both looked up at the sun in that instance and saw to their utter surprise and delight:

A Sundog! (a circular rainbow around the sun)

And this was *even more* talking crystal power magic wow wow because, of course, they were at the *Rainbow* Gathering!

Okay, so it's instant chemistry. They decide to ditch the other hippies and travel back down South in her car. Car goes caput. They leave it on the side of the road and commence the hitch hike position.

Along comes the, get this, the Jesus Loves You Bus.

A sky blue painted bus with hearts and clouds and RAINBOWS! Driven by born-again hippies. Their mission, to pick up hitch hikers for Christ.

I have pictures.

[QueenofQueens]

Just want you all to know that this cannot go on without me compiling my best dirt poor Italian Immigrant stories for all of you...This seems to be the Southerner thread...do folks from southern Italy count?
Afterall, my stories should count my mother has an undiagnosed mental illness and makes for good thread fodder all by herself

T, no regional requirements here. I myself am a transplanted Northerner. We anticipate your tales, mom-based, familial lunacy driven, or otherwise. ;)

xox

[joectigger]

Honey, does it bother you that I call Yankees "Sausage eatin' Motherfuckers" ? (k) (k) (k)


And how are us southern sausage eatin' mofo's supposed to be noticed then? OOweeee I love me some andouille sausage.

[Apocalipstic]

Heyyyyy :@ Yankee here ...... :@ um ....

What kind of sausage? :|

All kinds. ;)

I have just noticed over the years that my Yankee friends seem to have an incredible knowledge of hot dogs, brats, kielbasa, choriso, etc. etc.

In this area, Oscar Meyer franks is as far into forcemeat as we delve.

[QueenofQueens]

The Umbrella Man nods his head at each of us, smiles, twirls his umbrella and inches his way right through us and continues >>his slow walk down Pacific Ave (http://msgilligan.blogspot.com/2006/03/umbrella-man-slow-walks-pacific-avenue.html)<<...

To my knowledge, he never speaks.

The lingering-til-the-last-moment Umbrella shot in this clip is almost unbearably brilliant. Thank you, my god, thank you. (c)

[QueenofQueens]

Besides, we DO have a disturbing appreciation for extruded meat emulsions.


True dat....(t) (closest emoticon to a sausage shapewise)

[NYFemmie]

All kinds. ;)

I have just noticed over the years that my Yankee friends seem to have an incredible knowledge of hot dogs, brats, kielbasa, choriso, etc. etc.

In this area, Oscar Meyer franks is as far into forcemeat as we delve.

Well... depending on where in NJ and NY - you have ALOT of pizza parlors that offer italian sausages, NYC is riddled with hot dog stands... and depending on the influence of the neighborhood, there is always kielbasa or sausages to be found.

I guess we are sausage rich. Hmmm, never thought of that before....

[QueenofQueens]

e ~ Words cannot express my crystal, magic, love, wow-wow for this story.(@)

[QueenofQueens]

I notice this group is easily derailed by food talk. I knew youse guys were my tribe. (o)

[joectigger]

:D
I hear they prefer to be called little people.
ROF

I LOVE this thread....
Pinheads
Mommas
Babies
TP
Crazy Dad's
Little People
Flamingos

All of it! (y)


And an umbrella man. OMG I cracked the hell up on Sassy's videolink of him and his slow as molasses stroll down the street.

[NYFemmie]

I notice this group is easily derailed by food talk. I knew youse guys were my tribe. (o)

Specifically sausages meja ..;)
heh

[evolveme]

Did everyone hear me when I stated in my first post in this thread that I feel like I am Home?

[NYFemmie]

Did everyone hear me when I stated in my first post in this thread that I feel like I am Home?

Here's a surreal thought ...
If you feel like you're home.... then .... you must be...... :|
;)

[joectigger]

All kinds. ;)

I have just noticed over the years that my Yankee friends seem to have an incredible knowledge of hot dogs, brats, kielbasa, choriso, etc. etc.

In this area, Oscar Meyer franks is as far into forcemeat as we delve.


Now there has to be someone here with a family member that makes their own meat substances. My father makes his own hog's head cheese...it is the grossest memory I have of the foods that were around, including his hand made oyster shucker from various metal pieces around his work...similar to a guillotine to open an oyster, followed by him slurping them down raw.

[QueenofQueens]

Did everyone hear me when I stated in my first post in this thread that I feel like I am Home?

:) (k) (f) (l)

[Concrete_Angel]

This thread has me cracking up. :|

Over-share here because as a southerner, you all KNOW that you are supoposed to safe-guard all secrets ..forever... Vegas stole their, *What happens here stay here*, slogan from the southern ways. (y)

I was 11 years old and my knees had been killing me for over a year. In my family, a Doctor had to be ready to pronounce you dead before you actually got to GO to the Dr.

So, the school calls and tells my dad that I need to see a Dr. because I keep falling down the stairs and they are worried, since I was in gymnastics and ballet and otherwise graceful. (I made THE mistake of telling the school nurse my knees were hurting). My dad and mom pick me up from school, SHAMED that I have told, my knees are hurting, because THEY think I made THEM look badly for neglecting my pain for over a year. :|

My dad says, "Little girl you had better be sick or else you will get it good, inconveniencing these Drs. just to get attention." My MOM chimes in to tell my dad to stop yelling but then looks back at me and calls me a dramatic child. I, of course, begin to pray for all manor of plagues to be attacking my knees, to avoid the Drs. being inconvenienced by having to look me over, and to avoid the inevitable whipping, if I am healthy. :|

Turns out, I had a bone disease and required casts for SIX months on each leg, because they had let it go so long. :s I laugh in my glee that I did not inconvenience the Drs. My dad cries and tells me he is sorry for neglecting my diseased bones. I secretly am glad since he had to make this plea to me. :D

Turns out that having casts for 6 months wasn't worth my initial justice. They itched like crazy and my sister, who shared a bed with me, kept telling me to move over, I was taking too much room. :| Yeah, I can just move TWO casts right over. :|

The life of a southerner. (a) lol

CA~

[QueenofQueens]

My dad says, "Little girl you had better be sick or else you will get it good, inconveniencing these Drs. just to get attention." My MOM chimes in to tell my dad to stop yelling but then looks back at me and calls me a dramatic child. I, of course, begin to pray for all manor of plagues to be attacking my knees, to avoid the Drs. being inconvenienced by having to look me over, and to avoid the inevitable whipping, if I am healthy. :|


The life of a southerner. (a) lol

CA~

As is the life of a surrealist, CA...
For example look at this (http://img-srv.everestwebworks.com/w2/CatalogImages/2681-l.gif) self-portrait that Dali did of himself at the ripe old age of 12. It's called "The Sick Child".
Already a complete Drama king. ;)

[turino]

Umbrella man had one too many rainbow gatherings, no?


mister turino...hot dog sucker

[evolveme]

Umbrella man had one too many rainbow gatherings, no?




Oooo, CA will be so pleased to know that when all rainbow colors bleed together they form pink? :|

[lissa]

I adore this thread..

I adore stories

Reminds me of hot summer nights, sitting outside with sweaty glasses of sweet tea, listening to my aunts, grandmother, and mother talk about people they know..


Someone throw in a *God Bless Her Soul* and I think I can smell the left over biscuits..

Nothing like a bunch of transplanted Texans and Okies to make California feel southernly..



I don't have stories.. but I will be a cheerleader!!!!

[OutlawDaddy]

The drive from MA to KY was riddled with the insane, but nothing could have prepared me with what I confronted once I got there. I in rural Appalachia, pretty late at night/early in the morning, the roads were treacherous and there literally was no civilization for miles (85 miles to be exact...there was a Dairy Queen that had a full bar (but that's another story.)

There were no street lights, many people still hauled clean water and didn't have electricity in their homes at all. So I had to stop and ask if I was even anywhere near where I needed to be, because street numbers are for Yankees.

I saw a distant light so I parked and went to inquire. I got to the house and went to knock, only to find that the house was covered in . . . as in completely wrapped in TYVEK. I had to pat the TYVEK until I got to a stud and then had to rap on the stud. A man answers the door in denim overalls, one strap dangling and not much more. He invites me in and I go as far as the entryway because I am sure he has a conversion van and woodchipper with my name on it.

He notes my apprehension and claims he don't mind none Yankees in his house as long as they clean that dirty northern soil from their feet first. I thought I heard on Phil Donahue, to never take your shoes off because they cog up the woodchipper and could save your life.

He goes back into the house, we're still talking , he directs me to where I need to go. (3 hollers past here and a sharp turn like) He goes over and throws some coal into his woodstove and then sits back down on the milk crate from which he rose, in the center of an otherwise vacant room. It's clear now he doesn't want to be bothered...because...He is watching HBO...In Stereo...On the only item in the room other than the milk crate...A Big Screen TV.

Welcome to Kentucky!

[Apocalipstic]

I adore this thread..

I adore stories

Reminds me of hot summer nights, sitting outside with sweaty glasses of sweet tea, listening to my aunts, grandmother, and mother talk about people they know..


Someone throw in a *God Bless Her Soul* and I think I can smell the left over biscuits..

Nothing like a bunch of transplanted Texans and Okies to make California feel southernly..



I don't have stories.. but I will be a cheerleader!!!!

"Bless her heart" covers everything.
You can say something absolutely terrible about someone and make it OK with "Bless her Heart" or "God Love her" ;)

[Lips]

"Bless her heart" covers everything.
You can say something absolutely terrible about someone and make it OK with "Bless her Heart" or "God Love her" ;)

Or VOLUMES are told with 'bless her heart' or 'god love her' it can mean 'she's so stupid that I'm suprised she walks upright' to 'oh lord, I feel so sorry for that girl'

[evolveme]

Mama Fights With Ex-Husband Number Six Part I


Mama and her sixth ex-husband are having a violent disagreement outside his house. Mama picks up a tire iron and commences the busting of the windows on his pick-up truck. She begins to chase him with it, threatening, of course, to beat him till he's dead. He calls the cops.

Ex-husband No. 6, however, is running for County Councilman and decides he doesn't need the bad publicity if she or they both get arrested for criminal domestic blah blah blah.

As the police are there listening to his story (they've so far not taken the tire iron from her), Mama begins going up and down the street removing Ex-husband No. 6's signs from people's yards--you know, the signs where he is advertising himself in his bid for County Councilman. (This is totally illegal, if you didn't know. Still, the police do nothing.)

She throws several of these signs into the back of her 1989 red Toyota Camry and heads down to the local newspaper. She carries all of the signs into the office and begins to tell a very scandolous story which goes like this:

Back history: Ex-husband No. 6 is secretly highly vendictive. He hated his neighbor, the local Queer Art Dealer, because the man often complained about Ex-husband No. 6's dogs running loose at night (against city leash laws) and just ruining his flower beds. One night, Mama says Ex-husband No. 6 put a black ski mask on and went out to slash Queer Art Dealer's tires. His ice pick got stuck. He had to come home and get a tool and go back to retrieve his ice pick. He told his then wife alllll about it (Mama). Queer Art Dealer sued him but lost (no evidence!).

Well. Mama told the woman working at the counter in the newspaper all about what the man running for County Councilman had done.

And the largish, white haired woman in her very southern Southern accent looked down at all the signs and simply said,

"You know, I could use those stakes that hold up them thar signs."

Yes, that was all she said.

[QueenofQueens]

The drive from MA to KY was riddled with the insane,


I love this phrase, It gives me goosebumps.




there was a Dairy Queen that had a full bar (but that's another story.)



Your DQ adventure reminds me that on my way back to FL from NY I saw not one but TWO 24 hour all nude Cafes. Yeah I know I want food served by naked people not wearing pubic hair nets.




I saw a distant light so I parked and went to inquire. I got to the house and went to knock, only to find that the house was covered in . . . as in completely wrapped in TYVEK. I had to pat the TYVEK until I got to a stud and then had to rap on the stud. A man answers the door in denim overalls, one strap dangling and not much more. He invites me in and I go as far as the entryway because I am sure he has a conversion van and woodchipper with my name on it.



Perhaps Christo (http://faculty.evansville.edu/rl29/art105/img/christo_reichstag.jpg) and Rob Zombie (http://www.hollywoodjesus.com/movie/house_1000_corpses/01.jpg) were collaborating on an art project?




He goes back into the house, we're still talking , he directs me to where I need to go. (3 hollers past here and a sharp turn like) He goes over and throws some coal into his woodstove and then sits back down on the milk crate from which he rose, in the center of an otherwise vacant room. It's clear now he doesn't want to be bothered...because...He is watching HBO...In Stereo...On the only item in the room other than the milk crate...A Big Screen TV.



This is America, pal...what more do you need? ;)

[joectigger]

Qoq are you referring to Cafe Risque along I-75? I believe the signs say something like "We Bare All" and there's mention of the steak being served. ;)

There's a Krystle's back home in the French Quarter that serves daquiris, to go along with the drive thru daquiri place where you can get one complete with straw or in a gallon milk jug without having to leave the comfort of your car. Gotta love modern conveniences.

[homeboi]

I'm starting to understand you a lot better now, e - bless your heart ;)


Mama Fights With Ex-Husband Number Six Part I


Mama and her sixth ex-husband are having a violent disagreement outside his house. Mama picks up a tire iron and commences the busting of the windows on his pick-up truck. She begins to chase him with it, threatening, of course, to beat him till he's dead. He calls the cops.

Ex-husband No. 6, however, is running for County Councilman and decides he doesn't need the bad publicity if she or they both get arrested for criminal domestic blah blah blah.

As the police are there listening to his story (they've so far not taken the tire iron from her), Mama begins going up and down the street removing Ex-husband No. 6's signs from people's yards--you know, the signs where he is advertising himself in his bid for County Councilman. (This is totally illegal, if you didn't know. Still, the police do nothing.)

She throws several of these signs into the back of her 1989 red Toyota Camry and heads down to the local newspaper. She carries all of the signs into the office and begins to tell a very scandolous story which goes like this:

Back history: Ex-husband No. 6 is secretly highly vendictive. He hated his neighbor, the local Queer Art Dealer, because the man often complained about Ex-husband No. 6's dogs running loose at night (against city leash laws) and just ruining his flower beds. One night, Mama says Ex-husband No. 6 put a black ski mask on and went out to slash Queer Art Dealer's tires. His ice pick got stuck. He had to come home and get a tool and go back to retrieve his ice pick. He told his then wife alllll about it (Mama). Queer Art Dealer sued him but lost (no evidence!).

Well. Mama told the woman working at the counter in the newspaper all about what the man running for County Councilman had done.

And the largish, white haired woman in her very southern Southern accent looked down at all the signs and simply said,

"You know, I could use those stakes that hold up them thar signs."

Yes, that was all she said.

[QueenofQueens]

Qoq are you referring to Cafe Risque along I-75? I believe the signs say something like "We Bare All" and there's mention of the steak being served. ;)
.

Yes!!! That's one of 'em!!
Steak? Butt-steak, prolly. :o ;)
Dammit, things like this make me so sad that we didn't hang out before you moved!! :'(

[evolveme]

Qoq are you referring to Cafe Risque along I-75? I believe the signs say something like "We Bare All" and there's mention of the steak being served. ;)

There's a Krystle's back home in the French Quarter that serves daquiris, to go along with the drive thru daquiri place where you can get one complete with straw or in a gallon milk jug without having to leave the comfort of your car. Gotta love modern conveniences.

No it does not, Joe. It says:

WE BARE ALL!

In bright neon letters. :| On the rooftops for even airline passengers to see. :|

And whenever I tell people about drive-thru daquari bars, they look at me like I am wacko. You can get a hurricane too. Or a tom collins to go. As in, in a to go cup so you can drive around in your car while drinking alcohol.

[homeboi]

Qoq are you referring to Cafe Risque along I-75? I believe the signs say something like "We Bare All" and there's mention of the steak being served. ;)

There's a Krystle's back home in the French Quarter that serves daquiris, to go along with the drive thru daquiri place where you can get one complete with straw or in a gallon milk jug without having to leave the comfort of your car. Gotta love modern conveniences.

that's exactly what I was thinkin' Joe(y) I used to live a few miles down the road from that lovely establishment:|

[evolveme]

I'm starting to understand you a lot better now, e - bless your heart ;)

Don't even make me sick my mama on you.

[joectigger]

yes it would have been cool to hang out some before I became a midwesterner. Well at least now you have someone to advise you where to go and not go...I would stay far away from that rump roast and that butt steak anywhere that says We Bare All.

[homeboi]

Don't even make me sick my mama on you.


why darlin', I'm sure she's just delightful...:)






:|

[evolveme]

Some people have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome after living with my mother.

I have Surrealist Story Telling Syndrome.

:|

[joectigger]

To go cups are a regular thing back home in N'awlins. Container laws are way different as are the drink names for daquiris. Back there ordering a DOA, a Grenade or a Swamp Juice are about par for the course.

[Concrete_Angel]

e, the bleeding into pink gives me hope :)

Also to e, I think your momma is a Rita Mae Brown novel, waiting to happen. She has Aunt JUTS beat all to hell, God Bless Her. ;)

CA~

[Concrete_Angel]

Another surreal moment brought to you by *embarrassment* avoidance.

My dad was a Colonel in the Marines. We traveled by boat quite a bit in the early years, with him. One day we were at an officer's table, eating dinner, when my brother started to get sea sick. My mother didn't want to inconvenience the crew or other officers by letting them know my brother was sick, so as he started to throw up, she HELD HIM OVER THE SIDE of the ship.. yep, right out in the middle of the Pacific. :| To this day she wonders why she did that. He was 10 and already 5' 8" tall. She is 5' 6". Just goes to show you how strong her need was to avoid the *public embarrassment*, that a sea sick child can surely cause.

Course, holding him over the side wasn't embarrassing at all.. right? :s

CA~

[evolveme]

My mama is 5'2".

She has beaten several grown men to a pulp. She has even nearly scalped one or two.

Still, I give CA's mama credit for showing a great deal of strength.

[lissa]

"Bless her heart" covers everything.
You can say something absolutely terrible about someone and make it OK with "Bless her Heart" or "God Love her" ;)


Nods.. They said "Bless her Soul" and "God love her" right before a big old *BUT*..

[Apocalipstic]

Nods.. They said "Bless her Soul" and "God love her" right before a big old *BUT*..

But...
*stage whisper*
That is not her real hair color
*like any of us have had our real hair color since Jr. High*

[Lips]

No it does not, Joe. It says:

WE BARE ALL!

In bright neon letters. :| On the rooftops for even airline passengers to see. :|

And whenever I tell people about drive-thru daquari bars, they look at me like I am wacko. You can get a hurricane too. Or a tom collins to go. As in, in a to go cup so you can drive around in your car while drinking alcohol.

But e they put tape over the straw to prevent drinking and driving. That's nice

[Lips]

But...
*stage whisper*
That is not her real hair color
*like any of us have had our real hair color since Jr. High*

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF MISSY!!!

*leaving in a huff*

[evolveme]

But e they put tape over the straw to prevent drinking and driving. That's nice

What?

What did she mean by this? :|

[Apocalipstic]

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF MISSY!!!

*leaving in a huff*

;) I meant members of my family Missy Lippy.

I am sure every lock of your lovely hair is and has always been shimmering with light and color of it's own.

Mine, alas, is a lovely dishwater ashy non-color...so I dye the hell out of it! :D

[Lips]

What?

What did she mean by this? :|

I've only been through a liquor drive though once. When I got my drink, there was a little peice of tape on the straw. I said "what is this for"? He said "to keep you from drinking it while driving" :|

[evolveme]

I've only been through a liquor drive though once. When I got my drink, there was a little peice of tape on the straw. I said "what is this for"? He said "to keep you from drinking it while driving" :|

This is surely the most effective proposal for prevention of DUI that I have ever heard of. :|

[joectigger]

I have never seen a straw with a piece of tape on it at any daquiri place back home, lol. Regular straws given out in paper but apparenlty you are not supposed to put the straw in the cup until after you are no longer driving. RIIIIIGHT...uh huh.

[Apocalipstic]

~Special kryptonite tape is used~

[astarte]

And an umbrella man. OMG I cracked the hell up on Sassy's videolink of him and his slow as molasses stroll down the street.

And how sad is it that I never even thought that the Umbrella man might be worth sharing!!! I imagine that gives y’all a glimpse into life in Santa Cruz. He is like a Noah’s Bagels next to a Peet’s Coffee – just part of the scenery.

And I am so shocked by your aggressive umbrella man story Sassy! I had no idea he was capable of such passive hostility. He always smiles, nods and says a quiet “hello” to me when we pass. In fact I feel somewhat obligated to acknowledge him because I now think he expects it of me. :o

My personal favorite is the drum dude…you know the one we passed the other night that whistles or chants “ahahhhhhhh.” He is like Batman. I swear that I’ve seen him at the cliffs above Dog Beach and then drumming in a parking garage ten minutes later. Creepy.

Then again…we haven’t even mentioned Accordion Man yet… ;)

[turino]

wondering why it is that Homeboi, Joe and I know the attractions on I-75


"pubic hair nets...(h)

This reminds me of one of my very few stories:|.....Driving down a small road out in Covington, Georgia, we realize we need gas and diet coke, so we pulled into the only small station around...When I walked into the store after filling up I noticed an aisle of hair products...(h)cool, they care about their hair as much as I do. I knew I found people of like mind..

As I passed the 35 12 packs of PBR, I see the illuminated full wall display behind them....oddly enough it explained the hair products...It was a wall of damn wigs...wigs of all shapes, sizes and colors...

You could become anyone you want to be in the America called Covington, Georgia.


Step right up and get your Wigs and Beer(h)

[joectigger]

Did that station in Covington sell boiled peanuts, cuz that just sounds like heaven Mr T. (y)

[astarte]

Did that station in Covington sell boiled peanuts, cuz that just sounds like heaven Mr T. (y)

Boiled peanuts are one of the most terrifying creations since the atom bomb. (6)

[turino]

I Looooooove Boiled Nuts

[joectigger]

They go so nicely with the glow in the dark hot dogs that Mr T loves so much on the street corners in most big cities...mmmmm...dark and murky watered down ones are the bestest!!!

[astarte]

*SCREAMS and plugs ears*

I could seriously vomit on my laptop. :|

*wanders off to find pickle juice*

[littlebear]

This thread has me cracking up. :|

Over-share here because as a southerner, you all KNOW that you are supoposed to safe-guard all secrets ..forever... Vegas stole their, *What happens here stay here*, slogan from the southern ways. (y)

I was 11 years old and my knees had been killing me for over a year. In my family, a Doctor had to be ready to pronounce you dead before you actually got to GO to the Dr.

So, the school calls and tells my dad that I need to see a Dr. because I keep falling down the stairs and they are worried, since I was in gymnastics and ballet and otherwise graceful. (I made THE mistake of telling the school nurse my knees were hurting). My dad and mom pick me up from school, SHAMED that I have told, my knees are hurting, because THEY think I made THEM look badly for neglecting my pain for over a year. :|

My dad says, "Little girl you had better be sick or else you will get it good, inconveniencing these Drs. just to get attention." My MOM chimes in to tell my dad to stop yelling but then looks back at me and calls me a dramatic child. I, of course, begin to pray for all manor of plagues to be attacking my knees, to avoid the Drs. being inconvenienced by having to look me over, and to avoid the inevitable whipping, if I am healthy. :|

Turns out, I had a bone disease and required casts for SIX months on each leg, because they had let it go so long. :s I laugh in my glee that I did not inconvenience the Drs. My dad cries and tells me he is sorry for neglecting my diseased bones. I secretly am glad since he had to make this plea to me. :D

Turns out that having casts for 6 months wasn't worth my initial justice. They itched like crazy and my sister, who shared a bed with me, kept telling me to move over, I was taking too much room. :| Yeah, I can just move TWO casts right over. :|

The life of a southerner. (a) lol

CA~


I totally relate. When I was eight I woke in the middle of the night my throat and neck in serious pain. I go to my parents room and knock on the door several times. Then I hear my dad "you better be dying!" I reply "I think so dad" He gets up opens the door,takes one look at me and walks me over to the mirror. "No, you are not dying you have the mumps,go back to bed" My neck and cheeks are so swollen I actually thought I would explode.

My parents favorite line was, "No blood no sympathy"

[turino]

I like that line...I think I will steal it

[heyokagirl]

***subscribes***
:)

[QueenofQueens]

*SCREAMS and plugs ears*

I could seriously vomit on my laptop. :|

*wanders off to find pickle juice*



Wait...do you drink pickle juice?

[QueenofQueens]

***subscribes***
:)



Huzzah!! Welcome to our strange landscape, H! :) ;)

[joectigger]

Yes astarte is a pickle fanatic...I can serve as a first hand witness. An intervention maybe in order.

Now this thread has lots of food talk, monsters, flamingos, mommas, but no Elvis sightings...how can this be??

[QueenofQueens]

Here are some links to fun things to do for we kooks and visionaries!

Having a hard time motivating yourself to engage in Art Sabotage? Why not join the Cacophony Society (http://www.cacophony.org/)?

Hey Floridians! The Dali museum in St. Pete hosts monthly events which are wildly fun. In September the Dali & Beyond film series (http://www.salvadordalimuseum.org/events/calendar.html#September) will screen two Audrey Tatou flicks on various Thursday nights! Museum admission is only $ 5.00 after 5:00 pm on Thursdays. Beer for sale and free refreshments!! Fun!!


Bored ? Why not rent this (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_5,000_Fingers_of_Dr._T) surrealist must see movie by the one and only Dr. Seuss (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr_Seuss)! If you can find it that is. I myself own the soundtrack, on vinyl.


Check out the work of Remedios Varo (http://www.nd.edu/~sweber/art/varo/#ALCHEMY). A somewhat underappreciated surrealist painter from Mexico. Her stuff is hella cool!

[evolveme]

Now this thread has lots of food talk, monsters, flamingos, mommas, but no Elvis sightings...how can this be??

Because Elvis sightings are passe'. *smug roll of eye*

[QueenofQueens]

Yes astarte is a pickle fanatic...I can serve as a first hand witness. An intervention maybe in order.

Now this thread has lots of food talk, monsters, flamingos, mommas, but no Elvis sightings...how can this be??



1) She is? SO AM I!!! I can drink jars of the stuff! Interesting fact; Pickle Juice is the beverage of choice in Dr. Seuss' masterwork movie of the Surreal "The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T" which I include a link to in my previous post.

2) I have been to Elvis' house. I used to have a t-shirt depicting Elvis' head on The Michelin Man's body. I have a Michelin Man fetish. Do you have an Elvis tale you'd like to share, Joe?

[joectigger]

I hate pickles and most sour foods/drinks...ick. Nope no Elvis tales either, but I knew there would be some in the mix of the sasquatch and absurdities among those of us that love this thread. :)

[evolveme]

Oh, most excellent Queen!

And if we're really getting into this surrealism at-ti-tood, let's all join a cult together. Just for the fun of it. :D

Here's one I find to be very surreal. The Church of the SubGenius. Their icon? >"Bob" Dobbs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._R._%22Bob%22_Dobbs)<. You've probably seen him around.

Some infamous quotes by "Bob":

"You'll PAY to know what you really think."

"They may be Pink, but their money's still green!"
"Don't just eat that hamburger, eat the HELL out of it!"
"You know how dumb the average person is? Well, by definition, half of 'em are even dumber than THAT."
"This 'Church of the SubGenius' is the best scam I ever pulled."
"Pull the wool over your own eyes."
"Fuck `em if they can't take a joke."

[littlebear]

wondering why it is that Homeboi, Joe and I know the attractions on I-75


"pubic hair nets...(h)

This reminds me of one of my very few stories:|.....Driving down a small road out in Covington, Georgia, we realize we need gas and diet coke, so we pulled into the only small station around...When I walked into the store after filling up I noticed an aisle of hair products...(h)cool, they care about their hair as much as I do. I knew I found people of like mind..

As I passed the 35 12 packs of PBR, I see the illuminated full wall display behind them....oddly enough it explained the hair products...It was a wall of damn wigs...wigs of all shapes, sizes and colors...

You could become anyone you want to be in the America called Covington, Georgia.


Step right up and get your Wigs and Beer(h)

If you were broke and indesperate need of a drink,you could put on your wig and dark sun glasses (they always have those) and steal beer.

[QueenofQueens]

Oh, most excellent Queen!

And if we're really getting into this surrealism at-ti-tood, let's all join a cult together. Just for the fun of it. :D

Here's one I find to be very surreal. The Church of the SubGenius. Their icon? >"Bob" Dobbs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._R._%22Bob%22_Dobbs)<. You've probably seen him around.




Yes!! Praise Bob!!

Or, if you still aren't satisfied with your personal god and are worn out by creationists bum- rushing the world of science try THIS (http://www.venganza.org/)!

Oh yeah, fuck joining a cult, let's create our own!!

[Apocalipstic]

Good morning family! :)

I guess living in TN, I just don't even think of Elvis as being odd.

The Elvis impersonator we formerly used for conventions is in prison for child pornagraphy....he was caught in an FBI sting. :|

Before his unfortunate incarceration he would warm up between sets back stage by clogging...Elvis costume and all.

He was obviously a look-a-like, but women went nuts over him...would give him their room keys and panties. (true)

Our new Elvis lal is Jewish. He also impersonated Johnny Cash.

[joectigger]

What flavor koolaid will our cult be serving?

How about an Elvis cult (http://www.uncoveror.com/elvites.htm) to add to the absurdities?

[evolveme]

And I thought Cowboys Incorporated was an interesting job. :|

[QueenofQueens]

Not all roadside tales are warm, fuzzy, and full of fun. Whilst residing in Upstate NY, I witnessed many strange sights. Some I may never reveal here. Some must be revealed for safety's sake. Now I will tell you the tale of........

THE THING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

My Fam and I were driving south on the countrified path known as Route 9W.
Some of this route is heavily populated and burdened with the chain stores that plague most of these United States. Some of it is not.
We were driving through the backside of an upstate NY town famous for not much more than it's giant cement plant. The cement plant is banked upon the quite beautiful but equally toxic, Hudson River. The smokestacks crowning the plant, regularly spew a fine dust into the air which has given the town it's other claim to fame. The highest national incidence of a certain type of lung cancer.

As we passed by the cement factory at twilight our eyes were drawn to something scurrying across the road. It was mostly in sillouhette because of the falling darkness. It was about a foot or a foot and a half tall and standing on two legs. It's two eyes glowed red in the darkness and it carried the corpse of some unfortunate animal between it's jaws. It lurched to the side of the road and menacingly looked at the car, then disappeared. It had arms.

We all looked at each other and said "Um WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS THAT?". Then we didn't speak of it again for the duration of the car ride. If it is brought up in conversation our eyes get wide and we shake our heads.

Moral: Be careful if you go hiking in the Catskills.

[astarte]

What flavor koolaid will our cult be serving?

How about an Elvis cult (http://www.uncoveror.com/elvites.htm) to add to the absurdities?

Pickle juice flavor koolaid! (d) Though at any moment I suspect I’ll be reminded that it’s not actually juice that I'm drinking…it’s vinegar. yes yes...i know.

But I do love me some pj – ooohhh and it makes a delicious salad dressing!

though not so much frozen. :s

[QueenofQueens]

Pickle juice flavor koolaid! (d) Though at any moment I suspect I’ll be reminded that it’s not actually juice that I'm drinking…it’s vinegar. yes yes...i know.

But I do love me some pj – ooohhh and it makes a delicious salad dressing!

though not so much frozen. :s





*high fivin' my pickle juice drinkin' sister*

I feel loathsome doing it if anyone is in the room. Like fucking Aqualung or something.:| ;)

[evolveme]

Mama went through a year-long period of hermetic isolationism in which she hid out in my father's father's house (this would be the home of Ex-Husband No. 2's father) in a dark room with the windows covered over wearing only a pair of camoflaged pants, a see-thru white under-shirt, and military issue combat boots. She kept a Baretta .22 in her boot and a six inch double serrated hunting knife strapped to her belt. "A deer skinnin' knife."

Mama is an attractive woman with a nice hourglass figure, large breasts for her small frame. She never once wore a bra during that year.

After much pleading on my part she finally decided to make a brief outing into civilization with me -- to go to Kroger and get her some fresh fruits and vegetables. She had not been eating well at all. I was concerned for both her psychological and physical well-being.

Although she refused to change her attire for the outing, much to my dismay, everything seemed to be going smoothly. She shopped contendly, pleased to participate in the list check-off with me; happy to be squeezing tomatoes and tasting grapes. For the most part, she ignored people's stares.

Until we got to the register.

The young girl who was checking out our groceries made the mistake of giving Mama a slow up and down look and also of taking her "sweet assed time" about things. With no warning whatsoever, Mama reached across the conveyor belt and grabbed the girl by her braids. She commenced hitting her several times in the face while the girl only screamed bloody murder.

Attempting to pull this Kroger employee from my mother was something like trying to wrest someone from an 8,000 volt electric fence. In spite of your best efforts, you become quite "stuck" too.

Finally, Mama released her and just stomped out of the grocery store.

I will never fully understand why the manager of that Kroger apologized to ME, and why he did not press charges, except for my suspicion that because he had attended church all his life with my grandmother (my grandfather's long ex-wife) who was utterly scandalized by my mother's presence in her ex-husband's home, he simply wanted to do her a favor and keep it hush hush.

You can imagine how successful that was.

[astarte]

*high fivin' my pickle juice drinkin' sister*

I feel loathsome doing it if anyone is in the room. Like fucking Aqualung or something.:| ;)

(k) my mouth is watering

does it do that puckering, salvating thing to the back of your tongue when you think about it?

[lissa]

And how sad is it that I never even thought that the Umbrella man might be worth sharing!!! I imagine that gives y’all a glimpse into life in Santa Cruz. He is like a Noah’s Bagels next to a Peet’s Coffee – just part of the scenery.

And I am so shocked by your aggressive umbrella man story Sassy! I had no idea he was capable of such passive hostility. He always smiles, nods and says a quiet “hello” to me when we pass. In fact I feel somewhat obligated to acknowledge him because I now think he expects it of me. :o

My personal favorite is the drum dude…you know the one we passed the other night that whistles or chants “ahahhhhhhh.” He is like Batman. I swear that I’ve seen him at the cliffs above Dog Beach and then drumming in a parking garage ten minutes later. Creepy.

Then again…we haven’t even mentioned Accordion Man yet… ;)



YOu just invoked the spirit of my long dead surfer girl.. A bunch of us would draft someones older sib into driving us up on the weekends..

Sigh... Erics Deli... I loved that place..

[Apocalipstic]

E, I love your Momma! :)

Ast...frozen pickle juice?

I think I dreamed about QofQs fireman friend last night.

Once I had to hire a Tarzan, Jane and snake for another fundraiser action thing. They wanted a 9 to 10 foot albino python. I found one and a handler.

It takes forever to find a male body builder who will even go near the snake.

Finally, after weeks of search I find my long haired muscle man.

He shows up for the gig and has shaved his head.

Picture me on my Nextel...."Houston we have an opportunity...Tarzan is bald...I repeat, Tarzan...bald...suggestions?"

We find Tarzan a wig, it is one we modified from an old Dolly Parton costume.

Everything is fine 'til the Python gets stage fright.

I sometimes wonder how I ended up working here....but at least I can laugh at those who poke fun at my theater major.

[QueenofQueens]

(k) my mouth is watering

does it do that puckering, salvating thing to the back of your tongue when you think about it?

Ummmm, YES dude, yes it does.(d) <~~~~ filled with pick' juice

[Apocalipstic]

Ummmm, YES dude, yes it does.(d) <~~~~ filled with pick' juice


I am picturing (d) (d) with shaved ice pickle juice. :)

[QueenofQueens]

e ~ Crikey!! I wish your mama had come to Publix with me when I lived in SC. Maybe they woulda moved a little faster with her encouragement.

lipstic' ~ Your job is a dream come true. Truly.

[astarte]

My dreams are typically filled with romantic affairs with dictators.

Trust me when I say I know Saddam better than his closest friends and family.

Oohh and for a while there I pined away for John Gotti. Again, I knew him better than anyone. Life dealt us a cruel blew when we were separated.

And Mr. Worf and I will forever be star-crossed lovers. He’s like a tootsie pop. Hard exterior with a gooey inside.

My loves are always so misunderstood… (u)

[hollylewya]

From my own livejournal


There's this guy here at work, I think he's some small manager from some other department, with whom I constantly have serious misunderstandings. Our misunderstandings are conversation related. He kind of mumbles, and I always mis-hear him. This has led to a weird relationship between the two us, in which he just assumes I'm strange, and we don't have too many conversations anymore.

Well, today, he came up to me and asked me if I was familiar with the vacu-lock system

I replied, "Pardon me?"
Him: "Vacu-lock...are you familiar with it?"
Me (somewhat defensively): "I'm not exactly sure why you're asking, what possible pertinence does that have to do with anything?"
Him: "We use it on some clients."

I'm sure at this point, I had the most ridiculous, dumbfounded, astounded look on my face

Me: "Pardon me?!?!?!"
Him: "I guess you're not familiar with it"
Me: "I've heard of it, and I have some acquaintance with it"
Him: "Well, then, do you know where we keep it?"

I'll save you all the rest of the horribly strange and baffling conversation in which my face just got more and more skewed

Turns out, the Vacu-lock is some sort of HEPA like filter, air-cleaning machine we use around here


Quite different from my experience with Vacu-loc

I also have a couple of Elvis stories I can/might share


Be Back Later,
Lew

[homeboi]

<---pickle juice lover! just polished off a jar of Batempt Half Sours ;)

I am officially in love with this thread and all of it's wonderful storytellers. Ya'll oughta tell your stories for a living! Hell- you'd be rich, famous, and SURREAL!!

[evolveme]

e ~ Crikey!! I wish your mama had come to Publix with me when I lived in SC. Maybe they woulda moved a little faster with her encouragement.

lipstic' ~ Your job is a dream come true. Truly.



Yes, she would make a fine enforcer, exept for the fact that you can never predict when Mama will turn on YOU.

*tremble tremble shake shake*

And I confess to covetting Apocalipstic's job.

[astarte]

<---pickle juice lover! just polished off a jar of Batempt Half Sours ;)

I am officially in love with this thread and all of it's wonderful storytellers. Ya'll oughta tell your stories for a living! Hell- you'd be rich, famous, and SURREAL!!

I cannot tell you how many already eaten jars of klaussens line the shelves of my refrigerator. I just can't bear to toss such precious content...

[evolveme]

My dreams are typically filled with romantic affairs with dictators.

Trust me when I say I know Saddam better than his closest friends and family.

Oohh and for a while there I pined away for John Gotti. Again, I knew him better than anyone. Life dealt us a cruel blew when we were separated.

And Mr. Worf and I will forever be star-crossed lovers. He’s like a tootsie pop. Hard exterior with a gooey inside.

My loves are always so misunderstood… (u)


I used to *seriously* fantasize about Marilyn Manson. I had this one recurring dream that involved ...it involved...well...:$

NOT the vacu-lock system.

I feel so safe now. *sigh*

[TxHarleyBoi]

Not all roadside tales are warm, fuzzy, and full of fun. Whilst residing in Upstate NY, I witnessed many strange sights. Some I may never reveal here. Some must be revealed for safety's sake. Now I will tell you the tale of........

THE THING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

My Fam and I were driving south on the countrified path known as Route 9W.
Some of this route is heavily populated and burdened with the chain stores that plague most of these United States. Some of it is not.
We were driving through the backside of an upstate NY town famous for not much more than it's giant cement plant. The cement plant is banked upon the quite beautiful but equally toxic, Hudson River. The smokestacks crowning the plant, regularly spew a fine dust into the air which has given the town it's other claim to fame. The highest national incidence of a certain type of lung cancer.

As we passed by the cement factory at twilight our eyes were drawn to something scurrying across the road. It was mostly in sillouhette because of the falling darkness. It was about a foot or a foot and a half tall and standing on two legs. It's two eyes glowed red in the darkness and it carried the corpse of some unfortunate animal between it's jaws. It lurched to the side of the road and menacingly looked at the car, then disappeared. It had arms.

We all looked at each other and said "Um WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS THAT?". Then we didn't speak of it again for the duration of the car ride. If it is brought up in conversation our eyes get wide and we shake our heads.

Moral: Be careful if you go hiking in the Catskills.

MS QOQ you rock! By the way, I might know what it was... ;)

And that ladies and gentleman begins our segment on Snipes. A Southern tradition to the best of my knowledge, snipe hunting has offered many hours of great fun and community bonding.

When I was a sophomore in high school snipe hunting was a glorious Saturday night ritual. During the week we would take an unsuspecting loner-type freshman under our wing and on Friday invite them to go snipe hunting Saturday night. Imagine the absolute glee in their eyes when they finally had plans for the weekend!

Our favorite hunting ground was a legendary place called Blue Light Cemetary. The cemetary got it's nickname for the copious amounts of blue light citings in the wooded are at night. It was never an oddity to find candles and other evidence of presence deep within the cemetary but (and to this I swear) never an explanation for the mysterious blue light - and yes, I did see it myself!

Take one huge Monte Carlo, eight partying basketball players and one innocent freshman... add a paper sack from Safeway, a sawed off broom stick, a hunk of really stinky cheese and you got a snipe hunting party! Our freshman would most assuredly be wild eyed, excited and scared as we headed to the back, dark areas of BLC where we cut the engine, turned off the lights, gave the poor kid a penlight and let him/her loose. The idea was not to use the light except in emergency, bang the grocery sack with the broom stick and holler "Heeeere sniiiipe" while wandering the woods.

On one particular occasion the blue light appeared, much to our amazement and all 8 big tough jocks (yes, me too) jumped into the car squeeling like little girls and locked the doors as something ran toward us, breaking tree limbs, a breathing really hard. In the silence folloing the click of doors locking there was a huge breathless pause... the blue light was glowing from deep within the woods and then BANG! BANG! something or someone was beating on the door! Alas it was our freshman, sweating like mad, wild-eyed and begging for an open door. We let her in and hauled ass outta there but about a mile down the road a scratching noise broke the silence...

I said WTF was that?! Everyone was wide-eyed and clueless when our cute little freshman says, "oh, I caught a snipe!" We all looked at each other, jaws dropped, choked with a combintion of fear and laughter "Man, there's no such thing as a snipe - its a prank on freshman" The scratching got louder, we all looked at each other, the tires squealed, doors flew open, we all piled out and made the freshman chunk the bag as far as she could before piling back in and speeding off. To this day nobody knows what the fuck she had in the bag... :|

Oh and Joe, some say the blue light is Elvis' stage light as he croons Blue Suede Shoes at 3am... ;)

[Apocalipstic]

Ahh snipe hunting, I remember it well. I am picturing a large rat in that bag. :| :| :|

On Saturday nights we used to go rolling (toilet papering) people's yards...

Till I decided that was so overdone and mundane. Gotta be different!

We changed to plastic forks....sticking in the yards. 100's of them.

Then, I decided adding paper plates to the tops of the forks was even better.

A sea of little flying saucers. :D

Apparently this is still done here, I am so proud of my little creation.

*beam*

[QueenofQueens]

<---pickle juice lover! just polished off a jar of Batempt Half Sours ;)



It's all about the Kosher Dills for me. Much to my dismay I can't get B&G pickles in Florida, I have to settle for Mt. Olive. *sigh*

[QueenofQueens]

From my own livejournal



I also have a couple of Elvis stories I can/might share


Be Back Later,
Lew

I love this tale. I am driven insane whenever something similar happens to me.
I guess there are just some people with whom one is not meant to communicate.
Thank you Lew for climbing on board our ship of fools.
More stories please. (e)

[TxHarleyBoi]

Ahh snipe hunting, I remember it well. I am picturing a large rat in that bag. :| :| :|

On Saturday nights we used to go rolling (toilet papering) people's yards...

Till I decided that was so overdone and mundane. Gotta be different!

We changed to plastic forks....sticking in the yards. 100's of them.

Then, I decided adding paper plates to the tops of the forks was even better.

A sea of little flying saucers. :D

Apparently this is still done here, I am so proud of my little creation.

*beam*

That is absolute fkn genius! And who said idle minds were the devils playground? :P There are many great traditions spawned from geniuses such as ourselves? ;)

HIGH-SCHOOL aged LIPSTICK: Hi Mama

MAMA: What are you doing?

LIPSTICK: Aww not much, just forkin around...

[Apocalipstic]

That is absolute fkn genius! And who said idle minds were the devils playground? :P There are many great traditions spawned from geniuses such as ourselves? ;)

HIGH-SCHOOL aged LIPSTICK: Hi Mama

MAMA: What are you doing?

LIPSTICK: Aww not much, just forkin around...


;) My answer was more like Bible Sudy. heh.

[evolveme]

From my own livejournal



I also have a couple of Elvis stories I can/might share


Be Back Later,
Lew

I had been waiting for you.

The vacu-lock story was gold-(*) for sure.

Make the Elvis' good ones, okay?

Or just throw them over for something better.

[Lips]

From my own livejournal



I also have a couple of Elvis stories I can/might share


Be Back Later,
Lew

HAHAHAHHAHHA

I remember when this happened that was some funny shit!!!

Especially since we use vac-u-lock (www.vac-u-lock.com/sitemap.html) :|

*link for those that are not familiar with the wonder that is vac-u-lock

[Lips]

I had been waiting for you.



Or just throw them over for something better.

Someday, you'll hear the Zorro story.

If you can get hym to tell it.

Priceless

[joectigger]

Snipe hunting, forking the yard, and vac u lock stories....all ones that are hilarious. Great stories around this absurd campfire on board the Ship of Fools. (y)

and of course I will have to see what other flavors besides pickle juice we have for koolaid. :s

thanks to e for the link to the poetry...it had been a while since I had been in there....great stuff indeed from one poet to anotha. :)

[joectigger]

Someday, you'll hear the Zorro story.

If you can get hym to tell it.

Priceless[/COLOR]


Lew can ya tell us the zorro story puuuuhleeeeaseee? :)

[Apocalipstic]

OK, so remember on American Idol? The kid who was screwing Paula Abdul?

He and his parents just walked in the front door impromptu and are now meeting with a producer.

Small surreal world.

[TxHarleyBoi]

Lew can ya tell us the zorro story puuuuhleeeeaseee? :)

ZOR-RO! ZOR-RO! ZOR-RO!

I used to watch the old black n white Zorro movies on TV when I was a kid - Damn I loved that show!

[hollylewya]

So, one day, I'm broke...reallly broke. I literally had a quarter to my name. As I sat in my truck all forlorn contemplating how to spend my quarter, I realized it was just about lunchtime, and I had a friend who stayed home all day with her kid. Well, that meant if I came over 'unexpectedly', she'd feel compelled to feed me too. I decided it was best to spend my verrrry last quarter on a phone call to make sure my friend didn't mind if I came over.

I pull up to one of those drive up pay phones. It was the kind where you get to stay in your car while you make your call. This particular pay phone wasn't one of my favorites (yes, I knew the payphones of Cleveland well), because it was in kind of a crappy neighborhood, and the way you had to pull in made it extremely difficult to get out of the spot. It wasn't an easy 'in and out'.

So, I put my verrrry last quarter in the phone, dial the numbers, and my friend answers. While I'm talking to her, a very odd woman walks in front of my truck and gives me the evil eye. The woman is totally staring at me, and she's yelling to her invisible friend...except the woman is PISSED OFF. She's completely pissed off, and she's staring at ME, and she's yelling...but she kept on walking, so while I did worry, I didn't panic...YET

I tell my friend about what's going on, and we're talking when all of the sudden...the woman comes back from around the corner. And, now she's even MORE pissed. I start to try to plan my way out of the situation, but there's no way I can get out of this before she makes it to me. So, I start telling my friend where I am, what's going on, and if anything happens to call the police and let them know what happened, because there's just no way I can get out this.

The woman is walking straight at me, staring at me, and she is raging pissed

She's even got the super-hella-fast walk on

It was so surreal it was almost slow motion...except she was moving soooo fast (for a walking pace)

As she got closer and closer to my truck, I started making out bits and pieces of her conversation with her imaginary friend..."NO! I'm not gonna do it...That's bullshit...WHY should I? NO!No!no!"

Finally, she gets close enough to me, and I brace myself for the ensuing blow. I managed to tell my friend that the woman had made it to the car before...

She slams a wad of money in my hand and yells, "HERE! YOU NEED THIS MORE THAN I DO, RIGHT NOW...DAMMMMIT!"

And off she went


Lew

[joectigger]

Finally, she gets close enough to me, and I brace myself for the ensuing blow. I managed to tell my friend that the woman had made it to the car before...

She slams a wad of money in my hand and yells, "HERE! YOU NEED THIS MORE THAN I DO, RIGHT NOW...DAMMMMIT!"

And off she went


Lew


HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA that's friggin nuts (y)

[Apocalipstic]

I love the payphone story! :D

Now Zorro!

Pretty Pulease????

[QueenofQueens]

My mom is a commited decision maker. This aspect of her personality makes her incredibly loyal. It also lends an unrivaled focus and intensity to what most people would consider mundane, matter of fact, and at times trivial circumstances.

I cannot recall what year it was, although I am fairly certain it was the late 1970's. My mom's appearance was suffering from the standard neglect besieging any working class woman burdened by an oblivious husband and 3 children. She had long tolerated the less than chic wardrobe, lack of shiny things adorning her, and sub-par dental care, the world had foisted upon her. I suppose she had to choose something to fixate on, so that the cornucopia of disappointments that was her daily life would not tumble from their horn and suffocate her.

She decided upon her hair. Her hair is like floss, each strand thin but so much of it. Prone, thanks to her German-Jewish ancestry, to fluffiness like eider-down yet remaining dull and flat looking. In my family we call this phenomenon "Jewish Wig Hair". Well, one day my mom had simply had it with her Jewish Wig Hair. She pulled her purple knit ski-cap (with a giant pom-pom) on top of her head, and there it remained. For a full year.
Trying to pull that ski cap off of my mom's head quickly became the game du'jour. She wore it day and night. To every family gathering. To every outing. I assume she removed it to shower but I'm not sure. I do know that the hat was worn during her yearly gyno exam. Though her clothes were gone, the hat stayed firmly in place, much to the dismay of her exasperated doctor.

What I like most about my mother's protest was the beacon she chose to endorse it. A flaming purple ski cap (with snowflakes). Even in the Summer. As if to shake the world awake into recognition of her unfair fate. Determined to make them aware of her head. Determined to make them understand that what lay beneath it was an abomination, all the while compelling their attention. Never away but ever toward the very thing she detested.

[hollylewya]

It was totally crazy

And, she had the crazy eyes and everything, and she never stopped staring at me the whole time I was in sight of her (she disappeared behind a building for a second)



The Lew

[evolveme]

And off she went


Lew

Aren't schizophrenics the BEST? :D

I am not even being an ass. Just read about Mama and you'll see why I am totally serious.

e

[evolveme]

But, Queen, maybe your mom had psoriasis? :|

[QueenofQueens]

But, Queen, maybe your mom had psoriasis? :|

Actually she did. All over her hands, but not on her head.(8)

[evolveme]

Actually she did. All over her hands, but not on her head.(8)

I totally feel a country song coming on.

[ROOSTER]

Welcome to the Surrealist Ghetto. My name is QueenofQueens and as some of you might know, I was chosen by the universe to be a conduit of the absurd. Throughout the course of my life I have seen and experienced the most ridiculous things. Usually when I am in a state of deep despair, I will witness something so bizarre that it tears my woe asunder.

[FONT=Courier New][SIZE=3][COLOR=teal][B]"(Surrealism) declares that it is able, by its own means, to uproot thought from an increasingly cruel state of thralldom, to steer it back onto the path of total comprehension, return it to its original purity."
Andre Breton, Second Manifesto of Surrealism


This is THE BEST THREAD EVER!..I Love all the stories.Funny how the universe has it's way of teaching and guiding us through ways, we would not ordinarily think of.

This happened a while ago, when I was a firefighter. I had experienced intense harrassment for being female,gay...anything other than the straight white males that ruled the firehouse. Well one day we were parked and I was sitting alone in the fire truck in all my regalia..hat ,suspenders..and I was stewing about how badly I was being treated and I was tired of all this sexist bullshit and just in general going on a racist,sexist tirade against the "establishment" in my mind.

When suddenly a voice brought me around...there stood a MAN who was holding his little daughter in his arms showing her the truck when he saw me,pointing toward me, said to her "see Emily, you can be anything you want to be".

I was stunned and almost cried right there but it was the Universe telling me..my fight was not in vain. Although I did wind up leaving..that carried me through for many more years.

[Taking a chance]

No it does not, Joe. It says:

WE BARE ALL!

In bright neon letters. :| On the rooftops for even airline passengers to see. :|

And whenever I tell people about drive-thru daquari bars, they look at me like I am wacko. You can get a hurricane too. Or a tom collins to go. As in, in a to go cup so you can drive around in your car while drinking alcohol.

I would love a Tom Collins. (y)

This is like the zombie thread but you have to read the whole story for the :|.

[Concrete_Angel]

My brother married a *fancy wife*. We were just plain *normal folk*. One day my brother brought his in laws to our house for dinner. My mom, who shouldn't have worried at all since she is THE BEST cook in the south, was a mess. She set the table with every fork, spoon and knife imaginable, that the *fancy* people might need, and she made an excellent meal.

As we were thinking it was all going to go perfectly, without a hitch, my older sister did something to irritate my younger sister. (Normally meals were always for fighting, hence my not so great ability, to digest properly, to this day). Anyway, My older sister told my mom to make the 'baby', stop which ticked my younger sister off more. Not to be outdone by tattling, my little sister, who was 7 years younger than the older one, bursts out with, "Well then I am just going to tell mom and dad, that you had one of those long white cigar things again, that they told you NOT to have, and this time, you hid it in the spot pee comes from". :| She was talking about a TAMPON.

The *fancy* people looked horrified, my mother almost passed out, my sister shut her mouth, my dad screamed for her to get upstairs, and I immediately became an anorexic.

Dinner Time!! :)

CA~

[Lips]

Dinner Time!! :)

CA~

AHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHHAHHAHAHHHHHAAAAA


My family. Yup.

[sphynxcat]

This post just made my day!!! I can't stop grinning now! I have a story for all lovers of dogs, the surreal and the absurd:
Twice a year there is an event in downtown Houston Texas called the Westheimer Festival. It was renamed simply Art Festival a few years back and moved to dead-center downtown because the powers that be wanted to promote it as more of a family event. You see, Westheimer and Montrose (formerly the heart of the festival) is the four corners of queerdom in Houston - rainbow flags from the light poles, leather bars and stores, resale shops, clubs, piercing and tattoo salons - all for the gay community and during festival don't ya know the queer peeps were out in force!
On one such occasion I was walking down the street perusing the various art booths, homemade jewelry and eating the free Hari Krishna food when I noticed this poor labrador retriever burning his feet on the hot sidewalk and panting wildly because it was so freakin' hot. I said to myself, outloud, "I can't believe that dude is making his dog suffer like that" and about that time a queer leather boy walked past in his leather chastity thong with a red Radio Flyer wagon in tow - inside the wagon was his small doggie and I said "that is so much nicer for the puppy". On second glance however I realized that the puppy was very still... dead still... because his owner had him stuffed after he died and was now walking around with his stuffed former and apparently most beloved doggie in a red wagon! I couldn't do anything but stand there, dropping my free rice off my plate, speechless. When I finally did snap I just shrugged and said to myself "I guess everybody likes to bring their doggies down here".

Years ago we had a (veterinary) client by the name of Mrs. Chambers. She owned what I believe was the single most vicious, feral Chihuahua ever to be plucked from the wild and have all sorts of human emotions projected upon him.

The first time I met Mrs. Chambers, her beloved angel was perching atop her ample bosom looking at me like this ----->:@ and uttering all sorts of doggy curses under his rotten breath. Mrs. Chambers greeted me warmly and introduced 'Sabby' as "her husband." :| No matter how uncooperative and protective he was, Mrs. Chambers would never help out by simply handing Sabby over to you. Instead, she would sit there helplessly while you tried to (carefully) reach for Sabby as he paced nervously back and forth (snapping like a set of those wind up gag toy chattering teeth) across her endless expanse of mammary tissue. :( :s

After a lifespan that could never be achieved by a meeker creature (I think he lived to be like 42 in human years), Sabby went to meet his maker ((6) ). We as a staff were admittedly relieved, both to have survived Sabby's reign of terror with all of our digits intact and to well, never see him again. But still a little part of us missed him and his um, 'spunk'.

Well, some time passed and just as everyone had seemingly forgotten about Sabby, Mrs. Chambers came in for an appointment with her 2 cats. Imagine my shock as I enter the room, chart in hand saying hello to our long time client, only to look up and see none other than Devil Dog himself standing on the exam table peering at me through beady little black eyes. Mrs. Chambers just smiled and shrieked and placed her hand atop his wrinkled little head saying to him, "Look Sabby, it's your friend!" :|

I stared in amazement as, first of all, this is the first (and only) time I had ever seen someone have a pet "stuffed" (actually, in this case, "freeze-dried"). :|

She "just knew we would love to see Sabby" since she was bringing the cats in. :|
As we were wrapping up the visit, Mrs. Chambers asked if we would mind looking at a cut. on (are you reading this e ?) Sabby! :| Apparently the cats were a little freaked out by the new (and I'd have to say improved Sabby) and had begun attacking him regularly. :|
Instead of referring her to a local taxidermist, (this was after all, her "husband") we obliged and sutured the wound. :|
Mrs. Chambers continued to bring Sabby in for annual visits (and minor repairs) for as long as I worked at that hospital. :P

[evolveme]

(are you reading this e ?)

Yes. I absolutely could not tear my eyes away. In fact, I am having a hard time blinking even now. See me? ---> :| I hope you have good insurance.

And you know something? I think Ms. Chambers and I share something in common. I was once married to a guy who you could very well say had been visited by a taxidermist. He just...never said much. Ever.

[BCtboi]

Ok. I'm not sure if this one fits here or in my TMI thread. I'll post it here anyway.

Just over a year ago, I was on my way to an interview for a field placement at the local GLBT centre in Vancouver. I don't drive, so I took the bus. I made my last transfer. While scoping out a seat on the bus, I notice a really cute old man,(I have a soft spot for old folks) and take the seat behind him. After a couple of minutes, I smelt something horrible. It was bad enough to make your eye lashes curl and burn your nose hairs.

The weird thing is, I couldn't quite figure out where it was coming from. I usually have a pretty keen sense of smell, but this stench had me baffled. After close to 15 minutes of breathing only through my mouth, the old man gets up. He's wearing off white kahkis. He turns to walk to the front off the bus and get off. That's when I saw it.

A large brown mark on his ass!

[carmin]

As always, your stories are so eloquently parlayed into the dadist/surrealist world of the improbable - but done in such an entertaining and mesmerizing way, one is compelled to read to the end...
puta, you rawk!!!
Besitos y abrazos - se te quiere mucho...(k) (})



My mom is a commited decision maker. This aspect of her personality makes her incredibly loyal. It also lends an unrivaled focus and intensity to what most people would consider mundane, matter of fact, and at times trivial circumstances.

I cannot recall what year it was, although I am fairly certain it was the late 1970's. My mom's appearance was suffering from the standard neglect besieging any working class woman burdened by an oblivious husband and 3 children. She had long tolerated the less than chic wardrobe, lack of shiny things adorning her, and sub-par dental care, the world had foisted upon her. I suppose she had to choose something to fixate on, so that the cornucopia of disappointments that was her daily life would not tumble from their horn and suffocate her.

She decided upon her hair. Her hair is like floss, each strand thin but so much of it. Prone, thanks to her German-Jewish ancestry, to fluffiness like eider-down yet remaining dull and flat looking. In my family we call this phenomenon "Jewish Wig Hair". Well, one day my mom had simply had it with her Jewish Wig Hair. She pulled her purple knit ski-cap (with a giant pom-pom) on top of her head, and there it remained. For a full year.
Trying to pull that ski cap off of my mom's head quickly became the game du'jour. She wore it day and night. To every family gathering. To every outing. I assume she removed it to shower but I'm not sure. I do know that the hat was worn during her yearly gyno exam. Though her clothes were gone, the hat stayed firmly in place, much to the dismay of her exasperated doctor.

What I like most about my mother's protest was the beacon she chose to endorse it. A flaming purple ski cap (with snowflakes). Even in the Summer. As if to shake the world awake into recognition of her unfair fate. Determined to make them aware of her head. Determined to make them understand that what lay beneath it was an abomination, all the while compelling their attention. Never away but ever toward the very thing she detested.

[evolveme]

When I was fourteen, I drove with my father down to the courthouse in Magnolia, Mississippi so that he could finally pronounce himself divorced from Mama. She was dressed to impress that day, all done up in a tight fitting black dress, cleavage extended to the mercy of the world, hair and make-up just so. She sat quiet and seemingly serene throughout the entire proceedings. She didn't ask for a thing: not one dime. Nothing.

When the judge finally pronounced them divorced, however, she stood up and sashayed across the courtroom. She took her wedding rings off and threw them at me. Then, she took a step toward Ex-husband No. 2 and punched him dead on the nose. As Dad was clutching his face, the baliff came racing toward her, but bam!, sheclocked him right on the jaw!

They just stood there, stunned for a moment, as she sauntered out of the back doors of the courthouse. We all followed her and stood in the doorway. She was outside now, removing her left stiletto. She then used the heel of that shoe to carve the words "P__ is a buttfucker" onto the door of my father's brand new Toyota 4x4.

Nobody moved. The baliff and the judge just stood there watching her too.

She got in her car and peeled out of the parking lot.

My dad and I left and drove home to Chicago. I wonder what people thought about the lovely graffiti on our ride home, or his bandaged up nose. I don't remember how or when he had those words removed from the side of his truck, but I know that he was just so damn glad to be rid of Mama, he wasn't even about to curse himself by attempting to make her pay for the damages.

Word to the wise: never underestimate a woman in stilettos.

[Apocalipstic]

Ahhhh, growing up stories....

When My Dad (Poppie) married for the 3rd time, he and she were both 65 years old.

Picture this:

12 bridesmaids in dusty rose taffeta (I looked like a damn lampshade) and sprayed all over in sparkly glitter (which it took me 2 years to get out of my damn car)

65 year old bride in a pink wedding dress with a 9 foot train...low cut in the back with seed pearls.

Twin Japanese harpists.

6 foot tall wedding cake with what appeared to be mini helicopter landing pads annexed to the main cake with teeny bridges.

[OutlawDaddy]

One warm summer evening there was suddenly a rash of frantic TV and Radio alerts. It seems that a moose was running through downtown Albany and causing quite a stir.

Whilst having a few drinks with friends, it suddenly seemed like a great idea to convince the DD to drive, get the camera and get in the truck...It was on now...Moose Huntin, the official patrol.

Looking for the Moose was easy, finding him, not so easy. We followed the news reports for sightings and continued to look without much luck. We decided to stop at a local pub, Eammons for a pint. Near the pub, there was this terrible looking dog, dirty, thin, scraggly who walked right over to us and looked in need of a bath, a brush and a good meal. HE was still there when we left and when opening the truck door, he hopped right in.

So now on to plan C...Save the Dog. We brought the dog home, about 35 minutes away. On the way, we stopped and bought a leash, shampoo, brush, food (Wet and Dry) and dishes. So, 84.50 later we are really on our way.

We get back to the house, crate our dogs, lock up the cat and cage the birds.

We feed the dog and he eats and drinks like he had not eaten in days. I started to run water for a bath. He was a little hesitant, but he was so dirty he really needed it. I washed him 3 times and towel dried him and started in on the matted fur. He loved it and just ate up the attention. After he was washed, we had to cut away an old collar from his matted fur. It was a collar that had an 800 number sewn on the inside. We called the number and notified the tracking service we had the dog.

Just as the house is ready to fall asleep, the phone rings. The service calling back with the number of the owner. I call the owner. He asks where we are and when I explain the location, he is SHOCKED. He is bewildered as to how the dog got so far from home. I offered to bring the dog to him in the morning if it wasn't to far and if it was an inconvenience for him to get to us, we could meet half-way.

HE EXPLAINS that he and his buddies had spent the night chasing news reports trying to catch a glimpse of a moose on the loose running through downtown Albany. He had had a few drinks and did not feel like he could drive 35 minutes to get the dog.

"I offer to bring him the dog and ask where he lives. He says, "Right in Albany, on Route 35A...do you know where Eammons Pub is?...I live right next door. I saw the dog when I brought the trash out, but haven't seen him since."

OMFG...WE TOOK THIS F'ing DOG OFF HIS f'ing LAWN

I donned a dark cap and humbly brought the dog back to the point of capture, the owner was waiting with the garage door open. From inside the cab, I opened the passenger side door, let the dog jump out and waltz up the driveway to the garage, I waved quickly to the owner, closed the door and drove home shaking my head in disbelief the entire time.

I still drive by there sometimes and see him sad eyed on the edge of the driveway laying in wait for the next guy with a savior complex. OD

[June2Pence]

*Whining Unattractively for more stories*

[evolveme]

*Whining Unattractively for more stories*


Surely being the most absurd chick I know, you will now be blamed as the one holding out on us.

Cough 'em up, bitch.

[June2Pence]

I spent the majority of my formative years living in apartments attached to Mortuaries/Funeral Homes. My stepfather was a Funeral Director. That kind of explains a lot, doesn't it?

I used to stand outside the door while the funerals were going on and listen to the music and the eulogies.

There was a long hall in one of the places we lived. We had to pass through it from our apartment to get to the garage where our VW Superbeetle was parked (along with all the Hearses and limo's). The hall was lined with "Family Rooms" and most of them usually had open, occupied caskets in them. I have a permanent crick in my neck from looking to the right, rather than the left to avoid direct "eye" contact with the dearly departed.

When we lived in Sutherlin, Oregon, the "Prep" room was located just off the breezeway. In the summers, they would leave the door open when they were "working". I was 10 years old and I made many excuses to pass the open door, daring myself to look in there, sometimes glancing up just enough to see a pale, pasty foot sticking out.

I had a fascination with the Casket storage rooms. I loved to go in and run my fingers over the velvet and satin. Then I would have nightmares about being suffocated under all of it. Is it any wonder I want to be cremated?

One time, my stepfather and one of the apprentices embalmed a chicken and hung it up outside our door on Halloween. I never could figure out why people didn't want to come to my slumber parties. :'(

[QueenofQueens]

Gutentag my fellow Kooks and Visionaries (e, where on earth does that umlaut go?).
I hope you've all had a glorious 3 day weekend filled with fun and lots and LOTS of sleeping.
I must say that it warms the cuntles of my heart to see so many fellow absurdists crawl from the wordwork and into this thread. Huzzah!!

Lew ~ I loved your tale of divine providence. It is such occurences that renew my faith in the universe and keep me from flinging myself out of my basement window.

Rooster ~ Welcome to the kooky confessional. What a sweet, surreal, tale of paradigm shift. I'm sure you have many more as a former firefighter, dontcha?

CA ~ What a free-for-all..... That'll teach those classist bastids a thing or two! ;)

Sphynxcat ~ Fucking brilliant, welcome and thank you ever so for bestowing us all with that gorgeously, gruesome tale from the kukawana krypt.

BCt ~ Oh lordy, I am reminded of a similar sighting by yours.....:s


Carmin ~ Reina de mi corazon, bienvenidos a mi thread mas "raro". Usted tiene un historia para nosotros? Hmmmm? Mil besos....:)


e ~ I couldn't stop laughing at "P__ is a buttfucker". Sheer unadulterated genius. (k)


'lipstic ~ What can I say, except the next time your family has a wedding, I better be invited...

OD ~ Do ya think that's how that dude was able to feed and bathe his pooch for free?

Juney ~ YAY!!! You're here and with glorious tales to boot!! Yay!!!! BTW my mom used to make our chickens do dances before she'd cook 'em. I suppose it's lucky we didn't have access to embalming fluid...;)

[QueenofQueens]

I get bored really, really, easily. I need to always find new ways to entertain myself. Since, you are my madcap family I will now entrust you all with a secret. I like to fuck with people.
Not in a malicious way mind you. Merely to get 'em riled and convince them of something about me which is simply not true. Call me the clown princess Hannibal Lechter, if you please.
For instance, one day I discovered how simple it would be to piss off my ex. We were talking about the moon landing and in jest, I made a reference to the conspiracy theory that insisits it was faked. Unfortunately for her, she believed I was serious and became incensed that I would believe such a bunch of hooey. The moment I noticed her insistence and outrage, convincing her that I believed the landing had been faked became my favorite game. I immersed myself in arguing the evidence against the moon landing with passion, all the while measuring her disdain for my ignorance, and having a hearty secret chuckle.
I am hopeful that she discusses my stupidity with her current squeeze. Nothing pleases me more than crafting the following scenario;
my ex: "I can't believe that QoQ actually believed the moon landing was faked, what a dumbass"
Her new squeeze "Yeah, baby, no wonder you aren't with her anymore. What an idiot".
Why do I do it? Why not? People rarely believe the truth anyway.
By the way, my friend Frank is the master of this, but he like me, never lies about the important stuff.
(S)
xox

[evolveme]

I am convinced we were separated at birth.

[QueenofQueens]

I am convinced we were separated at birth.

*shaking my magic eight ball*

Signs Point to Yes....

[evolveme]

During a brief interlude between husbands four and six, Mama spent time with a man who, for all the world, looked to me like George Burns, only with dyed black hair. He'd been an intelligence officer in two seperate wars and had a fetish for his war memorabilia--a dark inlayed wood wet bar from the Far East, glass ball bouys for holding up fishermen's nets, stacks and stacks of black and white photos of soldiers. All this stuff stood out in an uncomfortable contrast to the country blues and pinks and ruffles with which Mama decorated their 1920's bungalow.

I lived with them for a semester the first time I went to college.

"George" was a little paranoid, you might say, and though he spent nearly ninety percent of his time chilling on the front porch swing, sipping his Pabst Blue Ribbon in cans, hardly saying a word, EVER, he also had a few very specific rules he wished for us to follow. Like, no closing doors. After a while, when he saw that we just weren't going to obey this one, he went through the house and removed all the bedroom doors from their hinges. Mama, not to be outdone, came immediately behind him and hung some bedsheets in their place--1970's prints, orange and green stripes. He then came behind her and burned two eyeholes in each sheet with his cigarette butt.

All the while, I'm stoned out of my mind, laughing at the weird adult people in the house, talking on the phone about sex, or drugs, or sexordrugsorsex.

What I don't know is that "George" has fixed up an elaborate phone tap system from his war days in the garage, and Mama is about to discover it. I hear her hollering her lungs out one afternoon from the other side of the gardenia bushes and when I come running she's standing in the door of the garage looking down at this reel-to-reel recording device. (I don't think about it for years, but that man must of listened to some CRAZY conversations!)

She then slinks into the house like a cold blooded reptile, takes her silver handled pistol and backs "George" out the front door, off the porch, across a ditch, and into the street, all the while declaring how pretty his teeth will look still sitting in their glass on the kitchen window sill when she shoots his sorry ass dead.

She divorced him shortly thereafter.

I moved, unknowingly, into a house with a bunch of meth heads.

[Apocalipstic]

surreal moment at lunch today.

gyro restaurant
small woman
pink t shirt
pink jeans
pink shoes
crooked butt pads

one butt pad rested to the side
the other kind of rode below

you could see the edges....

I hear Ricky Martin wears them, as do drag queens
but this was my first real live chick at a restaurant sighting
surreal

[carmin]

Carmin ~ Reina de mi corazon, bienvenidos a mi thread mas "raro". Usted tiene un historia para nosotros? Hmmmm? Mil besos....:)
Querida putita :) - Thanks for the welcome. I will think of something that might be of interest to all to post at some point, as I have many bizarre stories to share.

Tengo una historia especial, pero solo para tus oidos - en tiempo te la contare - es sobre una princesita y su corazon partido por un hijo de puta en b-f... :(

[Apocalipstic]

Carmin ~ Reina de mi corazon, bienvenidos a mi thread mas "raro". Usted tiene un historia para nosotros? Hmmmm? Mil besos....:)
Querida putita :) - Thanks for the welcome. I will think of something that might be of interest to all to post at some point, as I have many bizarre stories to share.

Tengo una historia especial, pero solo para tus oidos - en tiempo te la contare - es sobre una princesita y su corazon partido por un hijo de puta en b-f... :(

Espero que estas bien, hay algunos locos aqui que han rompido muchos corazones. Ten much cuidado...

Tell us a story! :)

[evolveme]

Butt pads. Not just for sitting anymore. :|

[QueenofQueens]

surreal moment at lunch today.

gyro restaurant
small woman
pink t shirt
pink jeans
pink shoes
crooked butt pads

one butt pad rested to the side
the other kind of rode below

you could see the edges....

I hear Ricky Martin wears them, as do drag queens
but this was my first real live chick at a restaurant sighting
surreal

Maybe she was shoplifting some Pita bread? (e)

[Apocalipstic]

Maybe she was shoplifting some Pita bread? (e)

she was teeny, it looked like soup bowls :D

[carmin]

Hokay linda, not that I'm trying to upstage your really funny story...but, it reminded me of something I did to a moron faculty member at my college once. This is such an incredible commentary on the instructor's stupidity and gullibility that I know most of you wont believe me...(in truth, I can be a very eeeeevill lil' bitch if provoked sufficiently (6) - hee-hee, can't we all!)

Ok, here's the tale - bare with me, it's a little lenghty:

This particular faculty member had gotton on my last nerve...very condescending type - I'm staff, and faculty here have this misconception that staff members are lower then dirt, and treat us accordingly (not all, but most). This particular bitch was waaaay high on my shit list.

Well, our division got a spanking new computerized humongous copier that did everything but make dinner. One day the dufus went to make copies, and naturally couldn't figure out what buttons to press for making stapled copies. I told her *eg - just couldn't resist* that the machine was so advanced it was voice-activated. All she had to do was put the paper in place - which I said I'd be delighted to help her with - and just stand in front of the machine and say "staple." She said she didn't need the copies right away - she would do it a few days later 'cause she really didn't have the time at the moment.

A couple of days later I saw her in front of the copier with head bent down to the copier saying "staple, staple, staple" over and over again. Whilst engaged in this activity the Dean passed by. He looked at her and asked what she was doing...of course she told him the machine wasn't working because she kept telling it to "staple" and it wouldn't ( I still crack up years later when I remember this!! lol). The Dean looked at her as if she were totally insane and said "J___ this machine doesn't work that way, you have to do such & such." She stood there and insisted that he was wrong, and that was the way to do it, and that he didn't know what he was talking about! Meantime, me and a couple of the other staff members were just about peeing in our pants watching all the goings on incognito.

Well, needless to say she made a total ass of herself, lost all credibility of having all her screws in place, and (lucky for me she was the perverbial 'absent-minded professor') couldn't remember who it was that told her about the 'voice-activated' copier...lol to this day this story just makes me laugh so hard everytime I think about it, lol!!!



I get bored really, really, easily. I need to always find new ways to entertain myself. Since, you are my madcap family I will now entrust you all with a secret. I like to fuck with people.
Not in a malicious way mind you. Merely to get 'em riled and convince them of something about me which is simply not true. Call me the clown princess Hannibal Lechter, if you please.
For instance, one day I discovered how simple it would be to piss off my ex. We were talking about the moon landing and in jest, I made a reference to the conspiracy theory that insisits it was faked. Unfortunately for her, she believed I was serious and became incensed that I would believe such a bunch of hooey. The moment I noticed her insistence and outrage, convincing her that I believed the landing had been faked became my favorite game. I immersed myself in arguing the evidence against the moon landing with passion, all the while measuring her disdain for my ignorance, and having a hearty secret chuckle.
I am hopeful that she discusses my stupidity with her current squeeze. Nothing pleases me more than crafting the following scenario;
my ex: "I can't believe that QoQ actually believed the moon landing was faked, what a dumbass"
Her new squeeze "Yeah, baby, no wonder you aren't with her anymore. What an idiot".
Why do I do it? Why not? People rarely believe the truth anyway.
By the way, my friend Frank is the master of this, but he like me, never lies about the important stuff.
(S)
xox

[Apocalipstic]

Hokay linda, not that I'm trying to upstage your really funny story...but, it reminded me of something I did to a moron faculty member at my college once. This is such an incredible commentary on the instructor's stupidity and gullibility that I know most of you wont believe me...(in truth, I can be a very eeeeevill lil' bitch if provoked sufficiently (6) - hee-hee, can't we all!)

Ok, here's the tale - bare with me, it's a little lenghty:

This particular faculty member had gotton on my last nerve...very condescending type - I'm staff, and faculty here have this misconception that staff members are lower then dirt, and treat us accordingly (not all, but most). This particular bitch was waaaay high on my shit list.

Well, our division got a spanking new computerized humongous copier that did everything but make dinner. One day the dufus went to make copies, and naturally couldn't figure out what buttons to press for making stapled copies. I told her *eg - just couldn't resist* that the machine was so advanced it was voice-activated. All she had to do was put the paper in place - which I said I'd be delighted to help her with - and just stand in front of the machine and say "staple." She said she didn't need the copies right away - she would do it a few days later 'cause she really didn't have the time at the moment.

A couple of days later I saw her in front of the copier with head bent down to the copier saying "staple, staple, staple" over and over again. Whilst engaged in this activity the Dean passed by. He looked at her and asked what she was doing...of course she told him the machine wasn't working because she kept telling it to "staple" and it wouldn't ( I still crack up years later when I remember this!! lol). The Dean looked at her as if she were totally insane and said "J___ this machine doesn't work that way, you have to do such & such." She stood there and insisted that he was wrong, and that was the way to do it, and that he didn't know what he was talking about! Meantime, me and a couple of the other staff members were just about peeing in our pants watching all the goings on incognito.

Well, needless to say she made a total ass of herself, lost all credibility of having all her screws in place, and (lucky for me she was the perverbial 'absent-minded professor') couldn't remember who it was that told her about the 'voice-activated' copier...lol to this day this story just makes me laugh so hard everytime I think about it, lol!!!





Ha! (6)

We are about to get a new copier, ohhhh the fun I am going to have. (6) (a)

[QueenofQueens]

A couple of days later I saw her in front of the copier with head bent down to the copier saying "staple, staple, staple" over and over again. Whilst engaged in this activity the Dean passed by. He looked at her and asked what she was doing...of course she told him the machine wasn't working because she kept telling it to "staple" and it wouldn't ( I still crack up years later when I remember this!! lol). The Dean looked at her as if she were totally insane and said "J___ this machine doesn't work that way, you have to do such & such." She stood there and insisted that he was wrong, and that was the way to do it, and that he didn't know what he was talking about! Meantime, me and a couple of the other staff members were just about peeing in our pants watching all the goings on incognito.








*cackling* Sheer brilliance, puta. You are the surrealist Robin Hood. (k)

[carmin]

Payback is a bitch, ain't it honey? Don't f**k with the princess!!! lol


Ha! (6)

We are about to get a new copier, ohhhh the fun I am going to have. (6) (a)

[carmin]

*Princess modestly blushing & curtsying* thank you so very kindly, your highness :) ;)


*cackling* Sheer brilliance, puta. You are the surrealist Robin Hood. (k)

[Apocalipstic]

OK, back to the hotel where I used to work......

Security calls me. Hotel Security BTW is like a little KGB. They take their jobs veeeery seriously.

So, I get a call that one of my employees has been caught on high resolution digital infra-red photography in the parking garage kissing another young man who has been introduced as his brother. :|

So I get to sit him down and explain that even though we are in Tennessee, it is far better to come on out and tell people you are gay, than have them think you are making out with your brother.

Incest if not the best back up story to go with. :|

I also suggested they choose another place for their little get-togethers. Sigh.

[evolveme]

These things just come to you, right?

[Apocalipstic]

These things just come to you, right?

In the same way your Momma stories come to you. ;) (f)

[evolveme]

In the same way your Momma stories come to you. ;) (f)

Ha. (k) I'm reminded of Mama around here all damn day. ;)

..................

[Lips]

You know, one of the reasons I love this town is that last weekend Leslie was rumored to be attacked. Leslie is the very well-known tranny that hangs out downtown. Rev and I grabbed a bike-cab to a coffee shop for dinner after the Bat Festival. while we were in the cab I inquired about the rumor. The teenage bike driver (rider/ I don't know what to call them) said, 'Some homophobic fuck-wad attacked Leslie"

I don't even think it's surreal, but it's my town.

[Stray]

Oh about a million years ago when I still lived in Memphis, I was sitting on the roof of the downstairs apartment. It was a house divided into 3 apartments. I lived upstairs, my best friend lived downstairs in front, in the back was an added on very small apartment. I always crawled out my bathroom windown to the roof of the back apt. I hung out there alot, day and night. This day I was home from work after being on call on weekend. I was on the roof, as usual, hanging out, as usual. There comes this guy, up our driveway, it's an incline. Not weird yet. What's weird is this guy is dragging a huge cross! I mean huge! The thing was probably 30 foot long and about 15 ft wide! I was kinda speechless, for a sec. And continued watching him. He's steadily trudging under the weight but he's getting up the driveway. He gets a little closer, I holler down at him, " Hey! What are you doing man?" I think I scared the crap outta him, he did'nt know I was up there.
He looks up at me and says, "I'm moving into the back apt."
Knowing the landlord for many years, suddenly this was not surprising me at all anymore. I decided to be helpful tho.
" Dude, I don't think that cross is gonna fit in that apartment. "
He lowered his eyes, and totally exassperated exclaimed,
" Oh, Jesus. "

[carmin]

Otra mamita! Que rico!!! lol

We'll keep up the Spanglish and drive all these broads loco!!! lol
Dear ladies & gents, please forgive the lapses into the spanglish - I can only speak for NYRicans (tho this may also apply to other Latinas as well) - for the most part we never complete a sentence in one langwich...lol ;)

Que Vivan Las Putas Malas!! lol


Espero que estas bien, hay algunos locos aqui que han rompido muchos corazones. Ten much cuidado...

Tell us a story! :)

[leatherfaery]

I just started school and there is a very precarious female that I take notice to because she seems to be all up in the instructors face the very first day. For some odd reason she is unmistakable and I sense that I will probably notice her A LOT throughout the semester. On a couple of occasions already I have seen her push her way through others to get to the professors like their pants were on fire and she had the extinguisher… and then I hear her voice that sounds like this: BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. I tune out really well. We have two classes together and that was the first class and my first impression. I thought to myself that perhaps she was nervous and anxious and I told myself to LIGHTEN up.

Next class it's break time. I had actually stopped at 7-11 to buy a power bar and a secret little stash of a granola bar and some water. Break time approaches and the guy in front of me that I have been giving tips to for housing and jobs < this will come up in a moment and has significance> since the orientation busts out his granola bar. He is about ready to take yet another bite when said annoying lady comes over to him looks sadly in his direction shows her empty pockets and tells student about to bite into his granola bar that she forgot her money and can she have some of his BAR. He being the nice person that he is does not miss a beat and says “sure”. I say, with probably a shocked and repulsed look on my face,” I have an extra that YOU can have”. I dig into my bag and give her said bar. She says a hefty thank you and then rambles to nice guy who looks like he is afraid to continue to eat his granola bar.

Next day: My coworker and I are in the same program and talking about first impressions and exchanging tales of who freaks us out. I tell her that I find a certain lady odd. She proceeds to tell me a situation that happened with her and the lady. My coworker was talking to the nice man with the granola bar and he was telling her that I had given him tips about some jobs and a neighborhood to check out called Southpark. The lady (granola bar begging lady)from across the room comes over and gets into their conversation and interrupts them to exclaim: “There is NO neighborhood called South Park, I have lived here ALL my life and I KNOW!” Coworker explains to the *lady* that I would not have pulled something like that out of my ass and that she thinks I might not be lying. The lady does not believe her at which time my coworker bows out as she didn’t want to argue with the lady.

I speak to a coworker and jokingly ask what they think her diagnosis is and coworker says: RUDE Disorder NOS (not otherwise specified).

I am sure there will be chapters to this ghetto surrealist fable thingy.

J

[ROOSTER]

Gutentag my fellow Kooks and Visionaries (e, where on earth does that umlaut go?).
I hope you've all had a glorious 3 day weekend filled with fun and lots and LOTS of sleeping.
I must say that it warms the cuntles of my heart to see so many fellow absurdists crawl from the wordwork and into this thread. Huzzah!!


Rooster ~ Welcome to the kooky confessional. What a sweet, surreal, tale of paradigm shift. I'm sure you have many more as a former firefighter, dontcha?
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Thank you for the kind welcome. In this carnival we call life, this thread is like riding with the "Carnies" in thier traveling show. Listening to everyone spinning tales in the wee hours of the morning, whilst somebody passes the bottle. Not unlike the late hours in a firehouse after a 3 alarmer, hot, black coffee brewing. Each fellow trying to "outdo" the other in tales of bravado and oddity, who experienced the most danger and lived to tell about it.

Yes, I have many a firehouse tale to tell. For now though, I will keep sitting by the fire, listening to the odd, strange, funny, bittersweet and amazing yarns, weaved by the storytellers here. This wonderful slice of Butch/Femme Americana that you, Queen of Queen being the host, the Rod Serling of this "Twilight Zone", so marvelously provides for us. :)

Keep 'em coming people, oh and pass the bottle, please.

[QueenofQueens]

You know, one of the reasons I love this town is that last weekend Leslie was rumored to be attacked. Leslie is the very well-known tranny that hangs out downtown. Rev and I grabbed a bike-cab to a coffee shop for dinner after the Bat Festival. while we were in the cab I inquired about the rumor. The teenage bike driver (rider/ I don't know what to call them) said, 'Some homophobic fuck-wad attacked Leslie"

I don't even think it's surreal, but it's my town.

This is how realness should always roll.....(f)

[QueenofQueens]

The lady (granola bar begging lady)from across the room comes over and gets into their conversation and interrupts them to exclaim: “There is NO neighborhood called South Park, I have lived here ALL my life and I KNOW!” Coworker explains to the *lady* that I would not have pulled something like that out of my ass and that she thinks I might not be lying. The lady does not believe her at which time my coworker bows out as she didn’t want to argue with the lady.

I speak to a coworker and jokingly ask what they think her diagnosis is and coworker says: RUDE Disorder NOS (not otherwise specified).

I am sure there will be chapters to this ghetto surrealist fable thingy.

J

Ah, J Dearest, I knew I could count on you....(o)

xox

[QueenofQueens]

Sometimes I have the magic power of wish fulfillment. No really. I don't mean working strenuously toward your goals and achieving them. I mean making an off the cuff spontaneous wish and having it come true. Sometimes, I am just that in tune with the cosmic vibrations, man. *wish i had a hookah icon to put here*

When I was a carefree youth, my friends and I frequently made our way to that gay mecca in the Northeast known as Provincetown. We usually rented a hotel room in Truro, about5 miles away, where we could afford it. Because we were car free, we would trek the distance into P-town to get our young, queer, kicks. One lovely summer night after taking the long walk to town, we were wandering aimlessly up and down Commercial Street. looking for something to do. Out loud I expressed the following, to no one in particular, "I wish someone would come up to us and say 'You guys are cute, wanna come to a party?'". I knew the probability of this actually occurring in a town where we were tourists and familiar with no one was slim at best.
About 15 minutes later we were at the opposite end of Commercial Street from where I had uttered my wish. Suddenly, a young man with long curly hair (it was the 80's, m'kay) approached us from out of the crowd. When he reached us he spoke and this is what he said, "You guys are cute! Wanna come to a party?". Needless to say we were all thunderstruck and slackjawed with amazement. Yes, I have witnesses, yes we went to the party. I will always remember that night. My power still works when all the stars are aligned.

I'm still working on the lottery.