Cynthianne Visits Santa Fe; Modifications For A Mostly Modern Man


So. After a swift yet satisfying visit with Cynthianne from Albuquerque Friday evening, I enjoyed a mostly satisfying weekend. C’Anne came to Santa Fe for a rally supporting the 40th Anniversary of Roe V. Wade and arrived at Del Charro with Gloria in tow. I would very much like to tell you more about Gloria, but I can’t. Not because I know nothing of Gloria—I do—and not because I’m censored in any fashion.

I’ll remain mute re: Gloria because I don’t quite know what to think. Del Charro is bustling and quite noisy Friday afternoons, Gloria doesn’t drink but she’s a smoker requiring frequent trips outdoors for fixes, and to be brutally honest—I, Mooner Johnson, have the ADHD.

Gloria might also be afflicted, but Cynthianne is not, no sir-ee, Cynthianne has the laser focus of a clear mind and peaked interest. She’s exactly who we all thought she would be and I’m better off that she’s inside my circled wagons. She has much to say and I’m trying to get her to say some of it here in a guest posting.

Gloria was too busy circling for me to get a firm grasp on her stuff. She always spoke quietly, almost conspiratorially, in the 90-decibel Del Charro air, and I missed most of her words. I did get that she has been involved with a group who persuaded the US Department of Justice to do an investigation into the Albuquerque Police Department. This much I got because Cynthianne told me when Gloria stepped out for a ciggie break.

Our visit was far too short as Gloria wanted to start the hour-long drive home before dark. I’ll let Cynthianne tell you more whenever she decides to say something.

Which brings up another subject… Sex. OK, stop. Sex, and God, which, of course, would be two subjects. OK, stop once more, as in my eyes this particular conversation regards the single-subject introspections of sex and God as conjoined twin subjects sharing all vital organs. Maybe it doesn’t matter how many subjects there are to you, but the distinction is quite important to me.

Which brings up another subject. In an effort to bring better prose to these pages, I have been reading this silly shit to the dogs before I hit the “Publish” button in my Word Press Admin section. I’m not looking for content editing from the Squirt and goat dog, but rather I’m seeking to find if this silly shit is somewhat understandable. I’m actually watching to see if their eyes glaze over as I read to them.

“What’s with all the modifiers, shithead?” Squirt asked me when I read them my last posting. “All the “quites” and “mostlys” and “particulars” are distracting,” she told me. “Why don’t you just say, ‘the sex was good’, and leave out the mostly part?”

I must admit that I needed to think on that for quite some time before I could accurately answer her. “Well, little darling, if I’m going to hold myself accountable to full disclosure in these pages, I’m required to make modifications wherein I see them as necessary statements, usually.”

“Huh?” the diminutive puppy said. She looked at Yoda to get some telepathic information from his small brain—a brain damaged with abuse at the puppy mill over to Okla-fucking-homa and further damaged from his diet of pine cones and the pretty crushed granite gravel Adrian and I spread over some of the yard here to La Casita Johnson de Santa Fe.

“The goat dog thinks that you’re way too fucking wordy, Bwana, he says to tell you that less is more.”

I hate that “less-is-more” bullshit, don’t you guys? I mean I get that sometimes the less you say the better, but when you’re providing the written details of shit that happens you’re required to say what it is with however many words it takes to say it. Right?

“That’s bullshit, sweetie pie, we’re talking about explaining things—we’re not salesmen.”

Squirt looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “What, in the Hell, are you talking about we’re not salesmen?”

“Oh, you know, when a salesman asks for the order he’s supposed to shut the fuck up. The better sales guys will ask you to buy their silly shit and then not speak until you say something in response. That way they can learn what your objections might be so that they can work on you from better perspectives. Unless, of course, they get the order, in which case they take your money.”

I love the part of parenting where you teach your charges advanced insights and stuff. I’m always looking for the right opportunities to give the dogs information to work their ways through this quite crazy world of ours.

“Jesus, Mooner, you really are a nut bag and a confusing nut bag at that. And stop saying ‘of course’ so much. Makes my skin crawl when you say that.”

I know she’s quite right about that. Then again, we’re brought right back to where we started this discourse and that, of course, brings up the meaning of the word “discourse”, which is, “A serious piece of writing or speech.”

How can that be, because dis means “…apart, asunder, away… or having a private negative force…”, and course, of course, means in this case “… a series of actions…”

And that, dear friends, brings me back to the main topic in mind when I started this. Sex and God. Why is sex and God so much on my mind? Because, by God, I need me some sex!!! My hands are so chaffed and rough from spending so much time lathered with Ivory soap that I didn’t need to buy sandpaper when I refinished a night stand this weekend.

I do need some psycho therapy though. OK, and help me with this one. How can you be a smoker without drinking? Only way I could ever stand my own fucking mouth after smoking cigarettes was to drink or commit oral sex.

Maybe I should stop for now and simply say, “Manana, y’all.”

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4 Responses to “Cynthianne Visits Santa Fe; Modifications For A Mostly Modern Man”

  1. Squatlo says:

    So there was indeed a meeting of the minds in Santa Fe! Very cool! Cynthianne wrote that she plans to scribble for your blobber, and that you’ll probably refuse to post it. I told her you didn’t have a censor’s bone in your body, and to make sure she embellished the story to the point no one would recognize the guilty parties.

    About the smoke breaks, here’s what I’ve learned in life about smokers: While their breath might knock a fish monger off of his wagon, they are usually the most interesting people in the room (at least, when they’re IN the room, which is rarely, because they have to keep dashing outside to satisfy their nicotine jones) I’ve always found smoking a disgusting habit, but (and here’s a conundrum for your analyst to ponder) am usually more attracted to women who smoke than to those who don’t. Not because they smoke, which I find disgusting as hell (and worthy of a ten or twenty sexy points deduction) but because they’re more interesting than non-smoking women. This leads me to find and be attracted to women I desperately want to change. And no one wants to be “changed” to suit some grumpy bastard’s ideals of sexiness…

    In my twisted world, the sexiest, smartest, and most interesting women are the ones who USED to smoke, but have seen fit to toss the nasty bastards aside.

    Looking forward to hearing more about this encounter in the Land of Enchantment…

  2. Cynthianne says:

    I spent most of the day in Santa Fe on Friday with Gloria. Since Mooner couldn’t focus well enough in his limited contact with her to tell us about Gloria, I’ll take up as much of the slack as I can…

    For the record, Gloria is a recovering alcoholic- I think she said she had not had a drink in 15 years, so previously in her life she was both a smoker and a drinker. I applaud her for getting off the sauce and staying off. She has early emphysema (and her father died from it), so she is also trying hard to stop smoking. Been at it for about a month now. She has a nicotine inhaler that she uses continually, but she still craves the ciggies. I have read that nicotine addiction is stronger than narcotic addiction, at least in some people, and in Gloria’s case I believe it. She is living on disability; don’t know exactly what kind. Her mind does skip around like a flea on meth (maybe severe ADD?), but she seems to be fairly observant and intelligent, and is definitely a good-hearted person. She volunteers almost full-time with the A.N.S.W.E.R. (Act Now to Stop War & End Racism) coalition. They’ve got a website: if anyone wants more info.

    So non-smoking womens are boring and unsexy? Looks like my ex-husband was right after all. Sigh.

  3. Mooner Johnson needs sexing says:

    Squat. For your health’s sake, I hope the lovely and deadly one is an ex-smoker. Just saying. Me, I find all women interesting and some downright mesmerizing.

    That said, I’s rather lick Yoda’s ass than kiss a full-on smoker’s mouth.

    C’Anne. Thank you for the clarifications vis-a-vis Gloria. Early emphysema is like cracked tiles on a Space Shuttle. Better stop flying…

    And fuck your shitbrained ex-husband, and Walmart too!

  4. Squatlo says:

    Cynth and Mooner E. Johnson, my lovely (and sweet as a new-born kitten) wife is indeed an ex-smoker. It was an issue here at Chateau Squatlo for about six months after our marriage (and during many many many long, smoky days prior to it) but is a long-gone habit she’s so happy to have dumped five or six years ago (how long have we been married, sweetie? How flime ties…)

    My mom died of emphysema, and it was like watching a fish dying on the riverbank at the end. I hated cigarettes for a long time prior to her death, but I’m a bit of an asshole about ’em now. As of today, I think at least two women have stopped at my behest/badgering/threats/tears/begging/coughing-fits and if allowed I’d badger, threaten, beg, and cough at others who need to quit. What bothered me most about watching my mom’s last year or so was when we’d visit at the hospital and see the nurses in charge of her care taking smoking breaks outside the front doors of the hospital! They dealt with people dying from cigarettes and still took their habit out during breaks…
    I’ve had friends (close friends who shall go unnamed) who tell me nothing (NOTHING!!!) is as hard to leave alone as tobacco. I’d say “nookie” is a close second, just from personal addiction experience, but apparently, it doesn’t count as a drug. If it did, it would be the world’s strongest and most addictive, by far.
    Those nervous, jabbery women puffing away at the periphery of friendly gatherings were always more interesting than the serious, oh-so-calm women at the center of attractions. I tended to wander off looking for wallflowers with attitudes, and god knows I’ve found a few.
    Cynthianne, Gloria sounds like a woman of substance we’d all be better off having in our lives. Wish she was in our circle where we could mess with one another! Link ‘er up, and let’s get on with the fireworks!

    (Can’t wait to read Cynthianne’s tale of woe and intrigue about this weekend! Post the shit, Donald!)

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