Squatlo And Wonderella Make More Trouble; Mooner Takes The Fall

 

So. I’ve been so full of my own shit lately, I’ve managed to get myself into another moral dilemma, and then shit all over myself. What with the solving of the Chinese productivity issue– that’s the one where I found a way to increase American productivity by mimicking Chinese behaviors, and pointing out another Republican shortcoming (by pointing to their budgetary shortfalls), well, I’ve been pretty cocksure and cock-brained. I’ve been acting as if I considered myself a sane man.

My Wonderella problem was fixed at least on a temp basis, when I got my book manuscript back from my Editorator and had it lock me out from her edits. I’ve been so focused on getting my book finished, Wonderella’s importance has slipped in my mental priorities.

To overcome the Micro Soft Vista prejudice my computer has against my manuscript, Dixie has loaned me her I-phone and I’ve been doing the corrections to the manuscript on that.

When I take breaks to let my fingers un-cramp from working the little typer screen to the cell phone, I try to take deep breaths and think about how grateful I am to have an editing option that doesn’t cost the price of a new computer. When I finally start to feel grateful, I realize that the work output from a half-days’ squinting and bitching and cramping equates to three paragraphs of change, and a twelver of icy cold Carta Blanca beers.

The only thing that keeps me from killing myself over this dealie is the knowledge that Squatlo, who possesses a far firmer brain than I, has technology problems of his own. Actually, since I can’t manage to reproduce the Squatster’s problem with my blog comments, maybe I should slit my wrists and be done with it.

Squatlo says that when he enters a comment when four entries are ahead of him, he can’t see all of the other comments. Anyone else have that problem?

Anyway, my ADHD is exacerbated by having all of these problems, each of which is a problem I have because of the ADHD. If that’s not a Catch-22 I’ll eat my shorts. Which gets me back to my most current problem.

Since I’m no longer fully-engaged with Wonderella, I’ve been allowed back into the presence of SAC Ellen. My federal agent of choice has decided to forgive me of that transgression. As long as I keep Wonderella thoughts at level five, or lower, on the elevator that carries my layered brainwaves, I’m back in.

Last night was our first time together in over a week. I went to her house late in the afternoon, picked her up, and we went food shopping for our reunion dinner. We went to Mandola’s Market and then to Whole Foods. Our dinner selections were: grilled asparagus wrapped in prosciutto and adorned with shaved Parma-Reggiano and this nifty 12-year-old balsamic I have; shepherd’s pie, full of roasted lamb leg and carrots and onions and topped with creamy mashed potatoes; and tapioca pudding.

The shepherd’s pie was in honor of SAC Ellen McClellan’s heritage, the pudding was my choice, and the asparagus with Italian ham were a joint venture. Dinner was great, we had a nice wine with, and after dinner Carta Blanca beers. She wanted to watch the movie The Social Network, and so we did.

Halfway through the movie, I had to pee, and badly. I had been holding it so as to not break my newly-regained closeness. “Don’t pause it, Sweetie,” I told the SACster, “I’ll just be a minute.”

I jumped up and raced to her bathroom, unzipped my jeans and started peeing all over her vanity. Sometimes when I hold a pee too long, I release a dual stream not unlike when you put your finger over the end of a garden hose. Since I pee in the sink to save water, I peed on her vanity rather than the walls and floor of her bathroom.

I panicked, but I cleaned everything up with water. The quantity of water required to fix my mess was still less than that of a toilet flush, so didn’t feel too bad about it. I went back to the sofa to watch little Markie what’s-his-name finish fucking everyone in sight on his way to becoming a multi-billionaire, and to snuggle under the blanket with my lover.

When the movie was over, we went to the bedroom to get ready for some sex. “I’ll get ready first, Mooner Sweetie. Then I’ll get a proper charge on my stunner.” We sometimes use her Homeland Security-issued stun gun as a sex toy.

With that she was off to the john. I heard her pee (on the toilet), wash her hands, brush her teeth, clean her face and lotion it. Then she came into the bedroom with a rather quizzical look on her face.

“That was so strange,” she said. “ When I brushed my teeth it tasted just like asparagus pee. That was some strong asparagus.”

My body instantly covered with chills. My goose bumps were goose-bumped. They looked like baby geese riding on their daddy’s backs. My mouth went dry and I could feel my ball sack shriveling into the shape of a too-dry raisin. Now what do I do?, I thought to myself.

I needed sex, but I’m an honest guy as well. After processing a hundred possibilities, I settled on saying that I wonder if it could be pee smell from when she peed. While this was an avoidance action, I can live with avoiding my small problems if it helps me cure my larger ones.

I screwed my best thinking-man look on my face and said, “Well, I Wonderella if it might be from when you peed in the sink?”

“I meant to say, ‘I wonder if you were smelling from when you peed’,” this was said to the outside of the front door as it slammed in my face.

“Fuck me running.” This was said by me, to only me.

ADHD is a miserable disease.

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One Response to “Squatlo And Wonderella Make More Trouble; Mooner Takes The Fall”

  1. Panya says:

    I’ve had both real and artificial. I peerfr artificial. Why? Because it is easy to put together, and easy to store for the year, till next Christmas. Plus, with an artificial tree, you can put it up as early as you want, and take it down as late as you want to. With a real tree, the cost is how much? At least $25.00, and you have to make sure it’s as fresh as possible, and you only have a week to two weeks (at the most) to keep it up. Plus, the pine needles fall off and that means a mess to clean up. The tree can get dry, therefore it’s more work-you need to keep adding water to the tree stand each day, and sugar or an aspirin to help keep the tree fresh . And, you have to get it outside for the garbageman to pick up by a certain day. Plus, more of a fire hazard due to it drying out.In the old days it was okay and good to have a real tree-it smells good and fresh, yet these days, artificial is the way to go-for the cost effectiveness of it.That’s my opinion. Take care.

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