Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Happy D-Day Remembrance Day:

Thought for the Day:
Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction.
Blaise Pascal

hear none see none I am getting none
(Since its 06/06/06 and everything, I wanted you to know the girls and I am praying for you)

On Skinny Girls and Pipe Dreams:
It was a normal weekend for the Family Public, on Friday my Flower and I had planned to cut out of work early and go see a movie followed by a meal at one of those Japanese Steakhouses where they do the fancy make “a shrimp fly”& “chop-chop” things and also serve over priced sweet drinks in large Tiki mugs, with little umbrellas.

However, as with most plans we as a couple make, it was not to be. My Love had to stay at work until after 7pm, which shit canned our plans. So instead, I make steaks with fresh asparagus and baked potatoes and we rented a movie (The Date Movie, don’t ever rent it, my bet is even 7th graders would think the fart jokes lame). We retired to the marital chambers around 11:00pm and slept the sleep of those who wrestle with their moral compasses.

The Saturday morning, I woke at 4:30 feeling fit as a fiddle, strong in the knowledge that my ribs we knitting back together and the bruises faded, I once again returned to my roof where I successfully completed the sacred ritual of the cleaning of the gutters, this time without a blood sacrifice. After which I showered (rotten leafs in stagnant water smell like really bad ass). With cleaning both body and soul, I enjoyed a large country breakfast my Petite China Doll made for us, it included 6 eggs scrambled with mushrooms, red, green and yellow peppers, onion, garlic, the three cheeses, Rye toast, two pounds of bacon, hot peppers, imported olives, baked beans, sliced tomatoes, and fresh melon.

I could actually hear my arteries harden and clog. Speaking of clogging, it’s a little known fact but I am very well known in certain cycles for my interpretive clog dancing, but I digress. After such a wonderful meal offered up to the alter of love, that is our married life, it was time for a nap. My blushing bride and I enjoyed some adult time followed by 26 minutes of a well earned rest.

As is often he case when I try to nap, someone can to my door, which of course sent the hounds into a state of rabid attack, must kill, alertness. The person at the door was an old friend of mine who I have not seen in some time and he came bearing gifts. Yes, dear reader it was Christmas in June and many thinks were given.

I am now the proud owner of over 800.00 worth of fine cigars and pipe tobacco (yes, I smoke a pipe; why else did you think I wear a red silk smoking jacket). The old friend left soon after I found myself giggling like a mad man has I stored the tobacco in my humidor in the basement next to the wine room, which as many of you know is just down the hall from the S&M torture chamber and my personal photo studio.

After that, my love and I decided to go shopping, I mean how else are we average Americans going to defeat terrorism (did you ever notice how close in spelling terrorism and tourism are?). We went to a book store where we picked up half a dozen books and then to a local greenhouse, where I got more tomato plants to replace the ones destroyed last week and some pretty flowers to help fill in some spots in my extensive gardens. After planting and cleaning up, our afternoon labors done and the dinnertime quickly approaching, I started planning our meal. I chose an American summer time meal of ‘burgers and beans with Amish potato salad. It was about this time our neighbors (Harry and Sally) a cosmopolitan older couple, who met while touring with an English theater company in the early 70’s, and now write steamy romance novels together in both Polish and Hindi, (under pen names, of course) invited us over for a cocktail, and friends that’s what we did, one cocktail followed by another.

We drank enough gin that I was left to wonder, why the sun did in fact set on the British Empire. Summer time and good conversation fueled by gin and tonics, dbl. lime with quinine water, made for an enjoyable evening. It came as a surprise that it was almost 11 pm, when I collected my Flower and began the trek back to the manor house, nothing like cooking a very late supper. Oddly, we were not drunk but in a mild state of gin fueled bliss. After our midnight meal we fell into a gentle sleep in each others arms.

Sunday, I woke early and as is my custom I walked to the early Mass. I returned home and much to my surprise my Flower was already up and showered, at which point she reminded me that her duties as “Media Maven and Babysitter to the Stars” would prevent us from spending time together, but that I would most likely see her around 10pm after a concert put on by one of the current Nashville heartthrobs. After her departure, I decided to share my largess of carcinogens with those near and dear to me.

I loaded the buggy and went to OB/GY Kenobi & Land o’ Lake Girl’s home on the citys Westside and found them not home, so I went calling on Baba Ganoush Girl, down the street, I helped her drink her beer until we where joined by M. Chamberlain “Man about Town” and his escort the Always Charming Miss. Nay-Nay, light hearted banter thus ensued, soon after we were joined by the doctor and his loving wife and their adorable children, and spent an enjoyable afternoon, engaging infant assisted break dancing and the instruction of pipe packing for 7 year olds. Later in the afternoon, we all went our own ways, myself to continue being the Johnny Appleseed of Tobacco products, which were well received by my friends throughout my nine county service delivery area.

Later that evening, I stopped by my favorite bar on my way back to the Manor, and once again ran into M. Chamberlain & Miss. Nay-Nay, I was later joined at the bar by a few uniformed officers, who wanted their payment this month in fine cigars, which I gladly, parted with (it always pays to keep Johnny Law happy).

I found myself slipping into drunkenness, enjoying the conversation with the colorful locals that inhabit this bar on Sundays, however I should note that during my time there I got hit on by a 20 something Skate-Betty skinny girl. Who I might add was way ok with me taking her home to mama. Our motto, is if we make a kill we have to share it with the pack, however about this time my Flower decided to stop by and say hello, which for some reason put a quick end to my getting hit on, oh well, it was good for my fragile male ego, if only for a moment.

Needless to say I stayed out to late, got to drunk, and spent too much money for a school night, and woke Monday to face a day in court, looking and feeling my best. Like I said all in all a normal weekend.

JQP’s Book of the Month Club:

“The Birdman and the Lap Dancer”, good easy read, and funny at times, there is one part that sounds like a bar I use to drink in, check it out you wont be disappointed.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0375421262/104-1652715-7266342?v=glance&n=283155

“Skipping toward Gomorrah”, a very well done and funny book about living the 7 deadly sins.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0525946756/104-1652715-7266342?v=glance&n=283155

“Cunt”, a book Mrs. JQP is currently reading, she says it should be mandatory reading for every girl on the occasion on their first menses.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1580050751/104-1652715-7266342?v=glance&n=283155

Today’s Bill:
SONNET 86
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.

Quote of the Day:
Evil is obvious only in retrospect.
Gloria Steinem

I remain, much like the wet spot in the satin sheets of your past:

JQP esq.