NEW RELEASES
Ed and Ava spend Saturday Morning Together
There are a variety of places and events to which I should never be invited or asked to attend. My sisters intuitively know that camping and hiking are out of the question. They know that “outdoor activity” means “open air” mall to me. I assume that my spouse of 23+ years knows these things about me as well, but maybe not. This morning, I swear to god, he said, “Let’s go to the gun show downtown.” So I extended my right hand and said, “Hello, my name is Ava. What’s yours?”
Gun show? I can’t even behave in a restaurant let alone a show where weapons are the main attraction. How would I ever control myself? What would I do with my sarcasm? You can’t just leave that in the car – now can you? It’s been my experience that a lot of gun enthusiast don’t have a big sense of humour or come to it, any sense of humour at all.
“Why?” I say. Picture your spouse with a blank look on his face -yes, that’s the one. “To look at guns,” he says. “Why?” I say. This conversation isn’t going well.
Forty minutes later and a car ride.
The parking lot attendent says, “That will be $8.00 please.” I say, “$8.00 for what?” She says, “To park.” I say, “Here?” Her red face says her patience has worn thin. I think, she’d better hope I don’t buy a gun today. It cost less to park at DisneyLand, the happiest place on earth, and you want to park there.
Ed says, “Are you going to behave yourself or what?”
Are you freakin’ kidding me? Shouldn’t THAT question have been asked before we left the house? Before the forty minute car ride? How about before the $8.00?
“Maybe I should wait in the car,” I mumble.
Here’s what I found at the gun show: jewelry, clothes (not camo, real clothes), cats (the ASPCA was invited), purses that conceal guns (I did look those over, they were purses after all), oh yea, there were guns, guns with pink trim, guns that James Bond uses, guns – I swear – “Light enough for your grandmother.”
I only aggravated about a half a dozen people with my gun questions or comments before Ed decided he’d had enough pitying glances and was ready to leave.
On the way to the car, he said, “Did you have to ask the 300lb ex-navy seal why guns don’t come with interchangeable grips to match your outfits?”
Before I could answer, he said, “Why? Why would you tell the guy selling the semi-automatic weapons that his three chihuahuas were sissy dogs? Didn’t you notice they were wearing little spiked collars?”
“And, we weren’t there to adopt a kitten. What made you think we were?”
Really? Because I have no idea why we were there. I have no idea why I was taken to a gun show on a perfectly fine Saturday morning – but, I’ll bet I won’t be asked to go to a gun show again anytime soon. Probably never.
On the way out, the parking attendant gave Ed his $8.00 back. I think that the tears streaming down his face might have had something to do with that.
September 16
Nothing we write today is going to beat last week’s five things. But never say the Sister’s are quitters. The following is a mishmash of the five things we were going to use last week and some new ones as well. Here we go…
1. Visiting Bats. There was a strange influx of bats in Romania. Some people may recognize Romania better by it’s older name – Transylvania. As in Dracula. Yeah, that Transylvania. Anyway, some high school students went
Yeah - we'll just take an F on the test
in to take an exam and found a colony of bats flying around the room and a bunch more asleep on the floor. Well, this being Transylvania after all, the students didn’t think much of it and moved the exam to another room so as not to disturb the bats. We hope at the very least they pulled up their turtlenecks. PS – while doing a wee bit of research on bats, we learned the babies are called “pups”. HA! That’s cute, huh?
2. Bulletin Board. In honor of the whack-a-loon Tea Party “debates”, enjoy this cartoon by Ted Rall.
3. Drunk moose. We’re not sure what the legal drinking age is in Sweden, but even then, we don’t suspect they condone animal intoxication. Per Johansson heard a loud noise he described as “a roar” coming from his neighbor’s garden. We’ll bet he didn’t expect to find a drunk moose up in a tree. The Swedish authorities guess she’d been eating fermented apples. They don’t, however, explain how the hell she got into a tree. Have you seen a moose? They aren’t wee, petite little animals. Wouldn’t you think the antlers
Imagine this...in a tree...drunk
would hinder tree climbing? The sister’s are going to compose a letter to the Associated Press extolling them to please stop sending out articles that bring up more questions than they answer. Honestly, the wondering is killing us.
4. Red Pandas. Isn’t this the cutest set of faces you’ve ever seen? These sweet pumpkins are called Kit and Kitty and they live in a German zoo. We have no idea how we’re going to be able to afford feeding all these animals once we liberate them all. How could we not though. Quick – look at ’em again. Oooooooh, they’re so cute.
Red Panda Back Story: When Ava was approximately 17 years old she was rudely ejected from the Bronx Zoo for trying to steal a red panda and was told to never return in her lifetime. She never felt that this was truly understood by her friends but after everyone sees this photo she knows that everyone will understand what happened that day and commiserate with her that she didn’t actually get away with it.
5. Some very sage advice. We often find Wiley Miller’s Non Sequitur cartoons to be amazingly apt. Just this past week, something very significant could have been avoided at one of the Sister’s houses if the following advice had been heeded. Why is this suggestion so hard for some people to follow? Why? Just think of all the stupid crap that could be avoided if some people just did this one little thing. Really – is it so hard? (click on the image for a larger image)
The girls, the ta-tas, the chi-chis
I was watching Project Runway. I love this show. I love the crazy, pissy, over-the-top designers – men and women alike. I want to be Heidi Klum when I grow up. I have several Michael Kors pieces that I just love. Tim Gunn is fabulous. If you’re not a regular viewer, then you should be. Some of these designers are geniuses.
The challenge on this episode involved the designers pairing up with regular guys to design an outfit for their wives or girlfriends. It was quite comical to hear the words men used to describe what clothes their women liked, what their style was. One guy said to a completely befuddled designer, “she’s cutsie only elegant.” The guys absolutely could not describe the colors their women liked. Apparently in kindergarten when the colors periwinkle, fuscia and mustard were discussed the boys were all off in a corner discussing Matchbox cars and touch football.
The other thing that had me shaking my head in wonder was the men’s complete obsession with boobs. One guy discussed his wife’s boobs ad nauseum. It was disturbing. Everyone found it disturbing. If I was his wife, I would kill him after I watched this show air. Totally embarassing.
“Are all guys like that?” I asked My Honey who was studying across the room. I don’t know why I asked. I knew the answer but I still find it hard to believe.
“Uh, yeah.” he told me while looking at me like I was an out of touch moron. “Ever heard of ‘titty bars’?”
“Really? Why?” I knew he wouldn’t be able to answer this question to my satisfaction. I don’t think women will ever get it.
“Maybe because we don’t have any?” he suggested, lamely.
“Bullshit,” I countered. “We don’t have penises and, I swear to God, we don’t sit around thinking about them all the time.”
To add a more disturbing edge to my realization, I had to acknowldge that even The Bandit at six years old is fascinated with boobs. He’s always absently patting mine.
When I mention this to his father, My Honey just smiles indulgently and says, “That’s my boy.”
Oh, for crying out loud. What ever.
If Kelli had been there, too? Oh dear God
The Sisters together are a force to be reckoned with. That sounds ominous, no? It’s pretty true, though. For example, you get the three of us together when we’re in pissy moods then baristas beware. Probably worse, is the three of us together when we feel feisty. No waitress will go away unscathed. It’s not that we’re mean – we’re just complicated.
“OK, this is what I want,” Ava told the guy at the counter. “I want the the mozzarella, fontina and basil pizza cut exactly in half with basil only on one side. Do you understand?”
“Sure,” the young man nodded and smiled. Ava was not confident that he did indeed understand.
“Exacty in half,” she reiterated.
‘OK,” he nodded again. Ava squinted her eyes at him and, standing next to her, I started the low chuckle I do when I know we’ve got about five more minutes of this conversation still to go.
“Use a ruler if you have to,” Ava suggested. “I don’t want it to show up at my table with the basil on a bigger half.”
“I think I’ve got it,” the guy started to sound bemused. Was this blond woman for real?
“Are you sure you’ve got it?” she asked him with a pointed expression. By now, I was truly laughing.
“I think you made your point,” I volunteered, trying to give the guy a break. Ava simply glared at me which did absolutely nothing to quiet my giggles.
She turned back to face the guy behind the counter. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she inquired.
He nodded clearly terrified of where this line of questioning could be going.
“Then you know what it’s like sharing with them.” He made a small movement of his head that indicated he’d had many of the same issues with his own siblings. “My sister here always gets the biggest half and I’m very hungry today.”
“I promise, it will be cut exactly in half.” He smiled at her. Gone was the fear of Ava’s apparently instability. In its place rested an expression of mutual understanding of the unfairness of hogging siblings.
Ava glances over to me with a wise-ass smile. “Mom always liked her best,” she tells him of me.
I order our tiramisu and my ice tea with much less trouble, and we saunter over to a table to wait. They bring our pizza and it does appear to have been measured with a circumfrence before it was sliced. The delivery person took our table number, though, and I express some concern that they won’t remember to bring us the tiramisu without the number.
“Don’t worry,” Ava told me around a bite of pizza with absolutely no greenery anywhere near it. “That guy won’t forget us.”
I snort. “Yeah, unless he up and quit.”
Note from Ava: This story is absolutely true. I know I should be ashamed for tormenting the poor cashier – but I’m not.
Thankfully for this blog’s sake, we’re completely nuts
I’ve driven My Honey crazy for years quoting from my Policy Book.
“You can’t eat at the dinner table with no shirt. You know the policy”
or “You have to get your homework done before TV. You know the policy.”
You get the idea. I don’t know why it bothers him so much that I call them “policies” instead of rules. Whatever, it’s all semantics. Of course, I’ve kept it up simply because it does drive him batty. That’s what married people do.
I have a lot of policies. Lots and lots. All the best mothers do, right?
- We don’t put rice in our armpits
- We don’t swing from the dishwasher rack
- We don’t bite the cat – you’ll get hair in your mouth and the cat doesn’t like it
- We don’t lick the DVDs no matter how much sticky candy is on them
- WE DON’T TOUCH MOM’S STUFF (this one is roundly ignored no matter how often I scream it)
- We don’t flush Army Men.
- We don’t hide peach pits in the furniture
- We don’t use Mom’s good hair brush on the dog
- We don’t wipe pudding on the curtains
- We don’t shove mushrooms up our noses
This is a small sampling of The Bright Family Policies and Procedures Manual. I’m sure your family has plenty of them that sound remarkably similar no matter what you call them. Well maybe not. It’s true that some of the policies in our P&P are admittedly strange. It is alarming how many of them involve food, but then again, The Bandit lives in our house and he’s like a shark: he must constantly eat or he’ll die. I can’t wait until he’s a teenager.
So, what kind of wacky policies do you have? Please share, otherwise My Honey is going to have proof that our house is weirder than anyone else’s and I can’t take that. I have a delusion I hold very dear, one I cuddle with at night and nurture tenderly after I pull all the Nerf darts off my china cabinet and wipe up the spilled juice coating the top of my desk and double check The Bandit for underwear on the way to school.
“My family is normal. My family is normal.” It’s best said in the fetal position.
I really should start collecting bail money
No blogs about kittens or otters either
I kept telling myself that as soon as I got my first advance check I’d allow myself an iPad. Or a particular Coach purse I’ve had my eye on. Well, the wonderful Mr. Bright bought me an iPad for my birthday. I allowed myself to be thrilled with it even though it was decidedly less fuzzy than the puppy I’d asked for. So now I don’t have to spend that precious money on an iPad, and probably THAT Coach bag will be old season by the time I get that damn advance check.
Honestly, the more practical thing would be for me get a new laptop.
The one I have is darn near antique when it comes to electronics. I believe it is seven years old, which I’m sure you’ll admit is ancient. Nevertheless, the software is up to date and it works perfectly well except for a few minor things.
For example, there is the issue with the “K” key. It happens to be missing. Completely absent. I have to push down really hard on the little rubber thingy to trigger it. The K isn’t such a big deal since, it’s not that common a letter. That is unless you’re writing a story where the hero’s name is Jack. Then it’s a giant pain in the ass. I’ve considered renaming him Jacque and giving him a French accent.
Also, the “O” key is loose and flops around all over the place. The O is a bigger pain since, as you know, it’s a vowel. It gets used quite a bit more than the K.
The integrated mouse is almost completely unusable anymore.
N w that I thin ab ut it, it might just be a hun f jun after all.
September 9th
For the five things this week, we had carefully selected five outstandingly amusing stories, but then Tuesday came around and everything in the Quills universe ground to a halt. Tuesday was the season premier of Sons of Anarchy and, well, you’ll see why. Note from Ava: Amylynn thinks this is lazy. It’s not lazy, it’s truthful. Truthfully, how can any other five things top this????
#1. Jackson Teller
#2. As played by Charlie Hunnam
#3. Known as Jax on the show.
#4. He’s also British so there’s that nifty accent as well although he doesn’t use it on the show.
#5. Sigh.
The Quill Sister’s Patron Saint
There’s a lovely red from Bordeaux – let’s begin there
Ava is always looking for the next miracle diet. Sometimes she makes me participate which always puts me in a nasty mood. Don’t you remember the carrot/ginger soup debacle several months ago? Oh, that was horrible.
I was having PTSD flashbacks of that awful week when I found this fascinating study.
Ava – this one I’m willing to give a go.
I’ll give you a short synopsis so you don’t have to read the long and boring article. Essentially it blathers on for several paragraphs about some studies Danish scientists did about drinking wine and obese patients. Mostly it’s uninteresting, and I stopped reading after about four paragraphs when the article began quoting grams and kilocalories. Blah blah blah. I skimmed along further looking for good parts where they stated just how much weight could be expected to be lost using this method but I couldn’t find any hard data.
Honestly, I think the best explanatory information was listed in the headline: RED WINE IN MODERATION MAY LEAD TO WEIGHT LOSS.
Really, the whole lot of hyphenated scientists are not very helpful. They’re
probably all skinny. I find that most skinny people aren’t very helpful. You might think this is a gross generalization but, I bet if you think back to the few really skinny people you know and have met, they are not helpful people.
Especially about weight loss. They all say stupid things like, “diet and exercise.” Whatever.
Holy Cow! Here's red wine as a dessert! It's like somebody up there loves us!
So, the first meeting of the Quill Sisters Weight Loss Support Group will be meeting in the bar after work on Friday. Our working hypothesis we will be testing is: Drink Red Wine Until You’re Not Hungry Anymore.
Are you in?