Things I was asked last week Volume I

September 16, 2013

I get asked all sorts of things. Questions about art aren’t the only thing visitors have. Mondays seem like a good day to post the ones from the week before. In other words I’m too lazy to do a real post.

These first three all happened on the same night (and if you follow me on twitter you feel pretty cheated).

Who cleans the glass?

This was actually asked by several people. Two middle aged men were especially interested in it. One of the dudes followed it up with “it must be some talented granny.”

 Is Buddhism a race or religion?

This was asked to settle an argument between a couple as they wandered through the Japanese and Korean art. The male in the pairing thought it was a race. She called him stupid many a time.

So you work with a lot of hot chicks huh?

I’m not sure what prompted this because there were only guys in the area I was working. The dude also seemed really high.

Bite your nails?

This came complete with a mock biting of her nails. It was an older lady who apparently thought my job should cause me to bite my nails.

Do you have a lot of hospital bills?

A coworker needing an answer about a bill he received.

Being pregnant doesn’t get me any leeway?

A pregnant lady after I told her photography wasn’t permitted in the contemporary galleries.

So they just like break eggs on/rub them on paintings?

Dude curious about Tempera.

Where are the grits?

This actually happened at the grocery store. An older couple apparently thought I looked like I knew where the grits would be. I showed them even though they had been in the aisle twice already. This gave me flash backs to working at a grocery store.

 

 


The one where I’m Daddy Warbucks

June 9, 2011

The following post is sort of a TMI Thursday. I mean if it was true it certainly would be TMI for you dear readers. This (if real) would be a glimpse you’d really not want. I should clarify this DID actually happen but at no point was it serious. It was one of those things I come up with to mess around with my lovely wife.

Recently I decided to undertake the mission of cataloging all of our books. We have a ton of them—one of them is ‘The Cleveland Creep’ by Les Roberts—which I will be discussing on here soon. The wife has a bunch of Anne of Green Gables books. I knew this. She also has a TON of craft books. Then I came across: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury.

Me: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury? What the blue blazes?

Her: Don’t you make fun of Anne of Green Gables!

Me: No, no of course not. (I look inside.)

Her: You better not.

Me: What the…is this a book of Anne of Green Gables themed crafts?

Her: Yes.

Me: Wow.

So I of course tweeted about it. That’s just what I do—allow you to glimpse into our marital bliss. A few minutes later I decided I’d go in the bedroom and mess around with her. As I made my way I changed my mind, and settled on a kiss on the cheek instead.

(How sweet am I?)

Just as I reached the doorway she calls out: “See! Look at the support!” That was when the previous plan switched back on. She sat on the edge of the bed and I came in and spread out on my stomach next to her. She showed me the support.

Me: One person doesn’t mean a thing.

(I rubbed her back.)

Her: No, don’t touch me you jerk!

Me: You’re a big fan of Anne of Green Gables huh? I bet I know what you’d like.

Her: Ha!

Me: Now, is that anyway way to treat me?

Her: Yes.

Me: Oh come on Anne. I’m sorry.

(Rub her back.)

Her: What?

Me: Relax. What you’re feeling is natural Anne. (Kissing her elbow and arm.) You know you like Daddy

Warbucks doing this—oh wait that is Annie isn’t it?

Her: What the hell is wrong with you???

Daddy Warbucks: What?

Her: First off sick and second off that is NOT Anne of Green Gables.

Daddy Warbucks: I know I said that. Fine who would Anne screw?

Her: What?

Daddy Warbucks: Anne who would she get it on with.

Her: Gilbert I guess but he’s her age.

Daddy Warbucks: Well that is a dumb name. I think Daddy Warbucks should be allowed—yes actually Daddy Warbucks came to Green Gables on business. He likes what he sees Anne.

(Kiss her arm again.)

Her: You are gross.

(I get up to leave.)

Daddy Warbucks: Fine I’ll take my leave for now. I will return later to see if my little Anne—wait—that make it sound like you are underage. Young Anne—there because you’d be of age—Daddy Warbucks would bide his time till you were—

Her: What the hell is the matter with you?

Daddy Warbucks: You’ve upset Daddy young Anne. I shall leave but when I return I hope you are a little more shall we say loving. You don’t want to cross the Warbucks!

Her: Get out of here you sicko!

(Warbucks exits.)

A little bit later I returned.

Me: Hey honey…

Her: What?

Me: Now is that any to talk to your Gerald? He’s come to sex you up.

Her: Who?

Gerald: Being coy isn’t always sexy Anne.

Her: You mean Gilbert.

Gerald: Who the fuck is Gilbert?

Her: The dude in Anne of Green Gables is named Gilbert.

Gerald: Gilbert? What a weirdo. That’s just as bad as Gerald. You are forbidden from ever reading or watching Anne of Green Gables ever again!

Her: …

(Gerald/Gilbert exits.)

For the rest of the evening I peppered her with sexual innuendoes involving Anne and Daddy Warbucks. She’s a lucky woman.


Sleeping with my wife Part VII: The New Blood

March 1, 2011

Hello,
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

I’ll give you a moment to recover from the vague Pink Floyd reference or the coughing fit caused by the dust of 10 straight days without a post. Go on take your time.

(Don’t take your time we haven’t got all day. I’m sure YOU should be working.)

(Slackers!)

As you know (from the title) it’s time for another installment of slepping with my wife. You also would see that I’m still awesome at making vague horror movie references!

No my wife is not Jason Voorhees.

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Today we return to the fertile ground that is my lovely wife. It’s her birthday tomorrow so wish her a happy birthday on twitter!

Last Friday night was a very weird night. I want you to know I resisted the urge to quote the Katy Perry song ‘Last Friday Night’ there.

It was hard though.

(That’s what she said!)

Swoon. So hot.

(Shut up)

Okay so last Friday (during the day) was mostly uneventful. I was mostly searching for jobs and battling the gloom bug. Around the time the wifey came home (about 4:45 or so) I decided I’d be taking a nap. That really turned out ugly and I slept essentially till 8. Grub and tv time followed.

The time came to get into bed.
(Bow chikka bow wow)

The wifey (as most usually) was asleep pretty much as soon as her head hit the pillow. I had a bit more trouble, which of course made sense. I after all did sleep like 4 hours during the afternoon. The only problem was I was VERY sleepy. I felt like I could sleep for days but sleep never came. I was a lump of wide awakeness on the bed. The kitties joined me but they too quickly went right to sleep.

I was alone.
All alone.
(You say awwww now.)
(Do it.)

I listened to sports radio. I got up and had some water. I tried my left side, I tried my right side. Nada. I got up and watched some bad TV and did a little bit o writing. A very little bit. I got back in bed. I was still just a lump of sleeplessness. Then as I tried to plunder dream land the wife sat up.

Then she got off the bed. She stood there for a split second and then began to chuckle.

Me: Something funny.
Her: Yeah.
(Chuckles.)
Me: Gonna share?

(Now she’s on the move. She went around the bed and stopped near the door. She laughs some more.)

Her: I can’t believe I forgot. So much to do. (Laughs.)
Me: What are you doing?
Her: I forgot about it.

(She goes out of the bedroom and looks back in. Then she slowly closes the door.)

Me (to one of our cats): Should I go get her Rasputin?
Rasputin: ….
Me: Good answer.

(About a minute or so later she came back in.)

Me: What were you doing?
Her: I don’t know…I thought….

Then she was in bed and back to sleep. I however didn’t sleep again until about 9 in the morning. She apparently had a dream that people from work were coming over and she forgot about it. She thought she needed to get busy cleaning because they’d be there soon.


The one with Princess Leia

January 3, 2011

Now, this is the story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

Errr uh Bensonhurst. That’s right…New York, New York, New York, New York oh State of mind (New York City)

Seriously did my shtick change? Now I’m just Mr. Insert random song lyrics the whole time? So some of you may have known but l spent the majority of last week in NYC. Actually it was Brooklyn to be more specific and Bensonhurst if you need to be REALLY specific.

(God you people are so damn anal. Oh that was probably a poor choice of words for this place.)

AnyBum you may have heard I was on my first NYC trip. You may also have noticed that this place was dead last week. That wasn’t my fault (hey if Han Solo can say it so can I!) The place we were staying was promised to have working internet access and it did. The problem being that my friend (hence forth known as Williams or Harkness) could not remember the password. His soon to be ex wife (who he texted to ask) could not remember either.

This may need a bit of explanation. Williams and his wife are in the middle of a divorce. It appears to be at least generally “friendly” and moving forward. They lived in Brooklyn at the time it was decided. He goes to Cleveland State and moved back to Cleveland. She stayed in Brooklyn where she teaches. Last week she was due to be back in Cleveland and he took that opportunity to go back and pick up some of his stuff.

Anypointless info the time finally came for us to begin. Now originally I intended to make another Fresh Prince joke here. I was going to use the lyrics from the song about the cab and all that jazz but decided against it. Don’t worry it’ll be on the DVD extras. So we headed off—well actually first we (read he) had to go to the Ohio DMV. On the way there he decided he needed Starbucks—this would be a theme of the trip.

There is a Starbucks on every damn corner in NYC. Also Williams will attempt to go into every single one of them.

So we pull into a drive thru Starbucks over by Golden Gate Plaza. Before I go on (I know I know) another interlude. This happened or probably happened. Okay the point is I’m not embellishing this story. We may have miss heard her but this is what is believed to have happened.

The drive thru voice crackled out to us. “Welcome to Starbucks my name is Princess Leia, what can I get you today?” A confident female voice asked.

So at this point there is a slight pause on our end.

“Did she just say Princess Leia.?” I’m thinking over in the passenger seat thinking to myself

“Hi Princess Leia this is your brother Luke Skywalker.” Williams chimed in with from the drivers seat. There was a pause. No not true. There was a

PAUSE

And then Crickets. There were lots and lots of crickets. After this she once again asked us how she could help us. No acknowledgment of what had just passed between us all. Nothing at all. It was business and business and only. So Luke Williams ordered.

“We’re out of that.” darkly stated.

“Insert whatever he ordered next” (I don’t remember.)

“Oh I’m sorry we’re actually out of that too” Said with all the sympathy of Emperor Palpatine.

(Nervous laughter.)

Finally something was settled on and we drove around. Unfortunately she was only the order taker and not the drink giver. Perhaps she was never a she and the dude who gave him his drink was good with voices. Who knows? We never heard from Princess Leia again.

Now the trip and the real trouble could begin….

(You can go now.)

(No really that’s all for now)

(More stories tomorrow.)

(Probably)

(Wow still reading this?)

(Really?)

(You go home now.)

(That last one will be funny a couple stories from now.)


the one with shoes

November 30, 2010

So there was that one time I was perusing the internets

(did you know they have that on computers now?)

and came across this:

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Yep. Facebook and twitter shoes from Adidas. Say whaaaaat?

Well say it I’ll wait. No really say it!

I’ll take your word that you said it. Now as ridiculous as the shoes are they are kind of sweet. Anyshoes it got me thinking what would be more entertaining? What other web themed shoes could there be? So I came up with some stuff.

(Yeah you got to deal with my horrid paint shop stuff. The fact that it is so horribly done is the best part. I know it looks like a blind epileptic angry chicken did it. All for you people.)

First up: The Youporn.com shoe.

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and then the 2 girls 1 cup shoe:

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TMI Thursday: Brownaconda Attacks

November 18, 2010

I’m weird. This is something the wife tells me all the time. People’s eyes tell me this all the time too, but my doctor said I should stop saying stuff about talking eyes.

(I’ll be here all week.)

Oh look the parenthesis are back. I don’t know why that started. I don’t know when either so don’t expect an answer or a link.

(Mostly too lazy)
(Shut up)

Whatever. You stopped reading after the title I’m sure. Now I’ve developed a fun (depending on who you ask) habit of naming my pooping ventures. Sometimes I announce the names to my wife as I head into the bathroom. Sometimes it doesn’t get a name until after the fact. This is usually based on amount, size, difficulty and or color. Oh and generally (read always) these excursions are named for some movie. For example:

Off to film The Hunt for the Brown October.
I just got done shooting Pooptanic.
Just got off the set of Brownaconda.
Indiana Jones and the temple of Poo.

The best instance had to have happened in Florida. After filming I come into the bedroom where kat and Pelvic Joann are and say:

Me (very seriously): “Have you seen Alec Baldwin?”
(Now after some initial ignoring I finally get a response)
Me: Yeah just finished shooting the sequel to Hunt for the Red October…Hunt for the Brown October.

I don’t do this every single time and I try to mix it up and not use the same one. Carissa—which if you aren’t reading here you should be—has convinced me to create a list. I am and so thank her for that disgusting list when it happens.

Anypooping back to the tmi. This happened late at night (like 2am) so there was no announcing of a shooting schedule. The wife was sweetly tucked away dreaming of sugar plum or murders. More likely she was dreaming of murders and kidnappers but that’s another story. Check one out here. So I went to the bathroom without being able to say some witty movie name.

(Poor jimi)

I’ll spare you the details of the actual event. I will say that there was quite a lot of it in the bowl afterwards. Now above the toilet on a rack sit her collection of duckies. You know the little rubber duckies? They have different versions. You know like punk rock duck, bad girl duck, Hitler duck,devil duck, irish duck, Jean Bonet Ramsey duck.

(Horrible jokes jimi)

So they’re up there. I finish my business and wipe and all that. As I finish I happen to put my hand up there. I knock poor Chicago duckie off balance and he falls. I like Spider-Man grab out for it. I catch it but the Green Goblin comes along and distracts me and Chicago duckie falls out of my hand. I almost catch it again but instead as it falls out into the air leaps the fabled Brownaconda and snags it into his jaws.
Sorta like this:

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Yes we apparently pee and poop into a misshapen bucket. We classy like that. It was horrible how angry it sounded as it grabbed poor poor Chicago duck. It fell pretty much directly into the poop and sunk in too.

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So I don’t know if it was because it was late, I was sleepy or the trauma of the brownaconda attack but I without hesitation reached right into the misshapen bucket the toilet. You know brownaconda and all. I grabbed Chicago duckie (sunk in a bit more as I did) and it I swear made a sort of plop-pop sounds as it pulled free. I managed to not get anything on my hand. I’m still not sure how because there was a ton in the bowl and poor Chicago duckie was covered in it. I tossed it into the shower and turned it on. After it was all gone I dried the poor fellow off and replaced him. I thought about not telling her about it but I did first thing the next morning. For 2 reasons I knew I’d use it on here and I wanted to gross her out. So I told her about the spin off to Anaconda.

Brownaconda: Dead Duck

I of course embellished some of the details of the story for her. I may or may not have said something about
pieces of food sticking to her duckie.
You’re welcome.


Excuse me maam: Virginia Style

November 9, 2010

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Yep. It already happened again. This time it took place in the lovely mountains of Virginia. The Three Shillelaghs were up there on our traditional trek. The last time we were up there a brewery was being built. This year it had been up and running for a while.

Everywhere I go I like to try a local beer. So we immediately made plans to head up to The Devil’s Backbone Brewery and Restaurant. After a beautiful and relaxing morning we headed out. We stopped at an awesome place named Graves where I chased down that elusive Choco Taco! Yeah!

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We headed up the mountain—Blue Ridge Parkway. This is also a tradition. We do enjoy our traditions, you may have noticed. Anyhoo we get up there and park. There be some optimal picture taking area. The area is beautiful and pics to come—maybe.

Oh come now (That’s what she said!) stop your whining this is another kind of post.

The day was nice. The sky bright blue and had a few puffy white cotton balls floating around in it. It wasn’t too chilly down below (TWSS!) but up on the mountain it was nippy. We enjoyed the view and snapped pictures before heading back down

Devils Backbone had a pretty full parking lot. The restaurant was no different. The sun was slowly creeping down as was the temp. There was an option given to us. Wait for who knows how long to sit inside or have dinner on the patio. It was a nice patio and a nice view too.

It was cold though. The patio did have heat. It consisted of a very lovely fireplace, two hanging heaters and then two moveable heaters. They also offered blankets. The wifey enjoyed the fireplace because she was right next to it. I was to the side/behind of it and Pelvic Joann was across the table of it. The two hanging heaters only helped the tables they were above. Those were the prime seats. The moveable heaters were not on.

In their fairness we didn’t ask about why. Eventually (as we neared the end of dinner) one was turned on and brought over to us. I sat with my hoodie on and up. The ladies took advantage of the blankets.
They were the cause of the post. I mean the blankets not the ladies. Dinner consisted of delicious meatloaf (kat), coffee braised steak (me) and the bone smoker platter (hahaha) for Pelvy. They had bread pudding for dessert.

During the meal some woman sat at the prime table in front of the fireplace AND under a heater. They eventually left and were replaced by some raucous men probably in their 50’s. I made eye contact (my face and beard clearly showing) several times. They were fans of really bad jokes and ribbing one another with even worse jokes.

As we left the ladies left the blankets on their chair. One dude tried to stop them I think. I vaguely remember hearing “hey” as I made it to their table. My front was facing them before turning my back to scoot between their table and the fireplace. My hoodie still up and my hair tucked into it. I get this tug on my arm.

“Miss. I think you ladies left some…oh never mind.”

I turned to face him at this point. Now either he noticed the blankets weren’t ours or that I had a beard and was clearly not a lady. I kept going and he turned back to his table of mid life crisesers.


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