Oysters, Cat Rumspringa, Pee. Three important topics in one blog.

1. I ate a raw oyster. I was peer pressured. I thought it would be the devil, like cooked oysters are, cooked oysters are the tiny little taste-like-sweat devil... but I sucked it up. Get it? Sucked. It. Up. Like you do with oysters. Not funny? Okay.

I treated it like a little oystery jello birthday shot (which was kindly). Anyhow, turns out that I like slimy, saucy, little grey globs of flesh. The point is that once again I have to take back all the libelous slander I've expressed about oysters the same way I had to backtrack on sushi being yucky... which it isn't... if you don't order it in Northern Alberta at a place called, "Prairie Sushi". What is happening to me? I'm mutating or something. I'm all wild and adventurous.

2. My cat, Smarties, is back from her rumspringa. Her coming of age event where she snuck out and left for two days of sinning. The little ho. Thank the two year old for mangling the screen door so she could get away from the house. Anyhow, she was missing, during which time I knew that if she came home, she'd be pregnant; because she's in heat every 8 seconds. See how that works? So now I've been eyeballing her accusingly every time I walk past her.

"NAPPING, SMARTIES??? ARE YOU?? HMM???? TIRED FROM BEING A TOTAL PREGNANT WHORE?? Huh?? I see you came slithering back home. Make some poor choices did you? If you're pregnant, expect no help from me. You made your bed, cat. Do you even know who the father is??? Probably not, right? What's your next move? Cat welfare?? (Wait... do they have that? Because $$$).... OR maybe you want to go to the doctor and y'know... take care of this....? You could still get your life together, smarties. What about community college?? Was it the feral cats at Parliament, Smarties? Huh party girl? Couldn't resist, eh? Whore."

No really, is there such thing as cat abortions? Probably for a million dollars. Also, then I'd live in eternal guilt for forcing that solution upon my cat. Every time she looked at me in the future, I'd have to avert my eyes and bite my fist. Living forever with her leaving cat-pro-life pamphlets on my nightstand.... writing "KITTEN MURDERER" on my mirror in red lipstick, little cat picketers all around my house forever..... watching her try to herd around and mother the kids' stupid, horribly annoying zhu zhu electric hamster pets...... Waiiiiiit..... this could work.....

Oh fine. I'm going to hell for talking about cat abortions. I get it. Stop glaring at me through your fancy cd roms. She might not actually even be pregnant. Maybe she really listened to the talk I gave her about the facts of life. Maybe I'll just make her wear a scarlet letter.



3. Don't you think it would make more sense if the old fairy tale was, "The Princess and the Pee"? Because a pea? PEA? No... but if you pee in my bed, I'm going to get really princessy and cranky with you.

Me: OH EM GEE. Did I just feel something wet?
Bed: Yah. I'm peed. Everyone is waiting to see how you react
Me: WHAT? Everyone who?
Bed: The prince.... well Neil. He won't marry you if you're not grossed out.
Me: What?
Bed: Yeah. But you passed. You win.
Me: Do I? Do I really win?
Bed: Yep. There is only one loser here and it's me.
Me: Ha. Jokes on you, bed. I'm going to go sleep in the guest room
Bed: Yeah... Guest bed is a little starved for attention... you might not like what you find there. It took it to the next level so to speak... to see if you're a Queen and stuff. Think "princess and the corn".....
Me: Ooooh... nooooo... Oh man, Bed, you've always got my back. Can I get you anything?
Bed: Yah. A towel and some purell.
Me: Sooooo sleeeepy......glaughhhhhh
Bed: Yeah but could you... just...
Me: Crashing in 3.....2..........1
Bed: Hey... pssst.... wakey wakey.....about that towel?.... Hey! *shake shake*
Me: *snore*
Bed: please?

That's what I was thinking about as Barney the dinosaur sang to kids about the importance of getting married as soon as possible on tv... or something (Ha. tell that to SMARTIES *zing*). I wasn't paying that much attention, as I was imagining what I would do if someone peed in my bed to find out if I was a princess or not- rather than just ask.

Well aren't you going to ask? If you don't ask, I'm just going to go ahead and sleep on the couch.

Chapter One of my Movie Idea for James Cameron.

I think it'll really tickle his fancy.

Once upon a time there was a tall guy who was a waiter but also he could fly. Sometimes on days when the restaurant was super devilishly busy, he would fly just a little bit- like an inch high or something- so that he could get the food to the people who wanted the food really fast but nobody saw him flying not even his parents. Then he got good tips.

Except once when a very ugly girl saw him hovering auspiciously and she said, "Hey waiter! You are flying! How are you doing that? Also, I want some deep fried pickles and hey, maybe a strawberry milkshake." Because after all, she was there for lunch. So he said, "Hey, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm not even able to fly because that would be impossible to the laws of physics and biotic sciences, but I will get you those pickles faster than a bolt of thunder from a storm of speed" but he was lying because he really was secretly flying before but then just landed when the girl said that she saw him (to throw her off his trail) and sometimes he had to lie to protect his hidden identity of someone who can also fly besides being a great waiter. Sometimes also, he flew in front of people a little bit, but then just said he was faking it like Kris Angel.

So then the girl told her best friend who was there too for a while, that that guy was flying food around before and her friend, Jan-eese, said that she didn't believe her wanton claim of flying waiters. The gril was very frustrated because she deeply believed in what she saw. It was truer to her than a million suns of roasting heat, burnishing in her soul.

Then she went up to the flying waiter and said secretly to him that she knew he could fly and that she wouldn't tell anyone else and besides, Jan-eese didn't even believe her and now they were not even best friends anymore because true friends belive there friends no matter what. His mind was shcoaked and awed by her compassionate words of astute tenderness. Nobody ever told him that they would keep it a secret before and he knew he could trust her because of the deep pools of applicable truth he saw deep deep deep in her feminine eyes.

She took off her glasses and shook her head until her golden summery hair fell out of its updo and unbuttoned her shirt two buttons and hiked up her skirt a little, slipping into high heels instead of boring sneakers and then he finally saw that she was suddenly more attractive because he hadn't seen it before because of all the glasses and things disguising her beauty like a hidden leprechaun of winsomeness.


He held her in his brawny, tanned, shirtless arms and said, "It's just us now."
"We're in this together", she said back.
"Forever.", he said after she said her line.
"Always.", she said breathlessly and luridly. And then she gave him an orange that she had.
"Until all the eternal forests fall from the firey death of silver sorrow" He said right into her face.
"Until all deserts fade from the views of winged eagles", she said

Then Meatloaf burst through the wall on his gallant motorcyle and sang, "I would do anything for love" and they slowdanced, ignoring the whole world and all the customers except for Meatloaf. Then he stayed and actually ate some real meatloaf because it was the special of the day.

The mysterious and tall waiter grabbed her face tenderly like a horse-master lovingly stirs toward the face of his prized horse and told her....

"Come with me, I want to show you something." And then they went to the closet at the restaurant and she said, "Wait, are you going to show me your crotch?" and he said no so she said ok. Then he lifted a mysterious bottle of ketchup and the roof in the closet opened and they could fly away in protected secrecy. He gripped her arm and they flew up to the clouds of wondrous strangement and she wasn't even heavy.

"How are you doing this?", she yelled because it was windy and loud and she had to speak up.
"WHAT?" he said because she still couldn't hear her.
"WHY CAN YOU FLY?", she yelled right into his ear so that he could hear her this time. Then he said he didn't know but that her hair was so jaw droppingly windblown and he always wanted to make out with someone with windblown tendrils of blonden locks.

Then he was only wearing skintight jeans, so then she was like, "O.K." and then when they were over the pearly waves of the ocean, they made out passionately and then they saw dolphins jump into heart formations with the spray from their dolphin blowholes spraying into their faces and their wind blown and tangled hair tangling together in tangles of fervish ferver and then she said that she never made out with anyone like that before and he said he knew that. He didn't really know it for sure but it seemed true, he didn't want to hurt his new girlfriend's feelings so he agreed to himself to just let it go. Also his name was Justyn. Then they fed the dolphins some fish that they remembered to bring from the restaurant.

Then they combed out their tangles while they sat on a rock on an island in the ocean that nobody could get to unless they could fly or had access to a helicopter or were really good at parachute landing and decided that they should have a picnic on top of the Eiffle tower the next night. So then he said to meet him in this very spot at 5 pm and they would go so she said ok after they argued about who had to make the picnic. And then they had to go back to their fake lives for the rest of the day.

Then at five o clock, he waited on the rock. He waited and waited but she never showed up. He thought that she must have changed her mind about their love and his heart broke and he said, "Cruel fate! You've taken my love from me. You're forced me into the dark crevice of headlong despair! WHY? WHY was I so selfish about her making the picnic??!? I must throw my body against the rocks of time!" and then he threw himself into the ocean where an octopus ate his legs off, which it turns out he needed for balance when he was flying after all. But really she didn't show up because they forgot that she needed to be able to fly to even get there.

Poor Arlene (That's the girl's name. Arlene.) watched helplessly from the shore, unable to get his attention because she caught tonsillitis that afternoon and couldn't yell loud enough. She ran home as fast as she could and got her seadoo and jumped into the ocean and saved Justyn's life. "I'm sure you'll be able to fly again! They can make a prosthetic jetpack... we'll invent a hover wheelchair" she said. But he just flopped around cermonically unable to find his center. Finally he looked deeply into her eyes and stroked her cheek with his looooooong fingers and said, "Arlene, you are the apple of my life. I will... never.... forget..." and he slipped into a mysterious and dark coma. Then the octopus that ate Justyn's legs tried to jump on her and eat her legs too because he'd been introduced to the fleshy taste of human legs and he LIKED it. So she punched him and all of the sudden she had super strength from being traumatized. That's how it worked, the shock of seeing her flightman crash against the waves released the secret brain chemical into her blood system that gave her super strength and the octopus flew a hundred miles, landing on the deck of the cantankerous Captain Conjuction (to be played by James Woods).....

To be ctd. in Chapter Two where they escape to the Alaskan wilderness and she decides to give Justyn her very own legs.

Yeah. I don't know why you read this , either.

In other news

I ate a gold medal pancake.

Also, I finally found a typewriter. To be precise, my brother and his family of typewriter hunters found it and mailed it to me. Hurray for them! Some of you might remember my plight to find one. Now I have and I'm sad because I have to give it away tonight and we've already bonded. I knew it would be in my life only for a short time- I should never have named it (Mr Plunkers). They say that once you name something, you've bonded. STUPID STUPID ME. Now I need to find a typewriter for ME... and finding this one took me 5 months. It's really what is holding me back from actually writing a novel instead of blogging all the time. I didn't realize it before. I thought it was my lack of owning a cabin on a secluded lake, with an airy little room upstairs that has a desk right under the window with a gauzy curtain blowing in the breeze as I write feverishly and it also has a vase with a couple of wilting daisies on the desk- because I don't have time in my writing fever to replace their water. Maybe there is also a kitschy lamp- perhaps one that looks like a fishnetted showgirl leg. Just one leg. Anyhow, that's how inspired I would be in that room- the daisies would wilt. Now I realize that my imaginary desk will also need a typewriter. A typewriter named Mr Plunkers II.