Friday, June 30, 2006

I Got Beaned

After recently overcoming somewhat of a lazy spell, I took it upon myself to take the large brown dog out for a jog last night. It was warm out, yes, but not stifling. And besides, sweating is cleansing, right? So I’m walking along in the park to warm up, feeling a little bit sassy and all like I’m hot stuff since I’ve lost an eensy bit of weight. There are wanna-be World Cuppers playing with their balls EVERYWHERE in the park these days, and last night was no exception. I had on my headphones for my MP3 player. I do this while jogging for several reasons, not the least of which are:

1) I seem to have tons more endurance when Nine Inch Nails and Rammstein are pounding in my ears.

2) It gives me an acceptable excuse for not acknowledging the douchebags who walk by me and insist, “SMILE!” like I’m supposed to be just walking down the street smiling continuously at nothing in particular. I am working out, Foolio. I am intensely imagining myself on a beach in Mexico sipping a Chi Chi rather than being here, exerting myself and sweating my ass off in my craptastic Target sweats and stained wife beater. Shut the hell up and leave me alone.

3) Hearing stripper music gives me the notion, however far-fetched, that I may one day have a stripper bod.

So anyhoo, since my stripper music was pounding away in my ears, I had no warning of what was about to be. A ball. Kicked at furiously high speeds. Aimed right at my head.


My ear buds flew out and I almost fell, face-first, to the ground. It took me a second to figure out what happened, so I am sure the look on my face was something along the lines of WT-effing-F??????

This dude came up and frantically apologized in broken English and asked if I was okay. I glared at him.

“Okay? Huh. Okay. Okay? Hell no, I’m not okay!”

Again, more broken apologizing.

I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Normally, a genuine apology is plenty for me, but I still felt I might actually pass out from the blow, and this pissed me off.

“I almost just lost consciousness, dude. And stuff. You guys need to be careful. (more bitter scowling). Or something. Cuz. You know, people are walking. And stuff. Whatever.”

I’m sure I sounded like a total idiot and they had a good laugh at my expense over their Coronas later. Eh, what can you do? Sometimes it is dangerous providing entertainment to the public.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Bug Killah

One thing about the Valley that distinguishes it from the Wesssside: It is totally bugnacious. Especially in the heat.

Let’s just talk about the flies for a second. Something about the rising mercury is the equivalent of someone shouting like the town crier to all flies within a 10-mile radius: “FREE POOP! COME AND GET YOUR POOP HERE! LOTS OF TASTY MICROSCOPIC DOG FOOD LEFTOVERS ON SHINY BOWLS! COME GET SOME DELICIOUS LIVE FLAPPY DOG EARS FOR NIBBLING! VERY TASTY! SWIM IN OUR LOVELY DOG WATER BOWL POOL! FREE ACCESS TO RAPIDLY DECOMPOSING COMPOST PILE WHILE IT LASTS!"

Yes, it's true. I have totally Martha'd out. I started a compost pile. It's environmentally friendly, bitches! But now the entire insect world of the San Fernando Valley is very friendly with my environment if you know what I mean. It's an unpleasant side effect.

But enough about the flies, can we talk about the water bugs? For those of you who don't know what a water bug is, picture a cockroach. On 'roids. Without the accompanying aggressiveness and bad skin. A water bug is like the roach's bigger, dumber, slower counterpart. He's not after food. He lives mostly outside and won't really scatter when the porch lights come on. Come to think of it, what the hell ARE they after? They just sort of show up and hang around. Rufus, having the official occupation in the household of He Who Chaseth All Smaller Creatures That Moveth, is quite fond of water bugs because they allow him the rare opportunity of playing Water Bug Hockey. And the water bugs don't seem to mind at all. They're like Mongo from Blazing Saddles. "Water Bug only puck in game of dog hockey." They roll and somersault when he paws them about and make very half-assed attempts at a getaway. I think they enjoy the attention. Much like Mongo.

Occasionally, however, they do venture into the house through mysterious means. The other morning, I was unfortunately awake, and dragged my sorry ass into the shower to start the day. I pulled aside the shower curtain and was greeted by The Muthah of all water bugs. He could have used my loofah as a recliner. He could have used my razor as a scooter. He was using my jar of lavender scrub as a podium, and I swear you guys, he looked up at me with his giant antennae flailing around at me and I heard something that sounded like a big dumb ass-crack-bearing plumber's voice:

WB: "Uh yeah uh lady, uh, you might wantuh look inta dat der mildew sitchiation ya got goin' dere on dose tiles back dere by da faucet. I ain't sayin' you're in any dangers now, but ya know, I gotta tell you to play it safe dere. You don't wantuh get yerself any problems down da line dere."

Me: "What are you doing in my tub? Who let you in? There's no hole in the window screen. The tub is too tall for you to crawl in here. WTF?"

WB: "Uh lady, dere's really no reason ta be raisin' yer voice at me dere, I'm just doin' my job here and addressin' the sitchiation you's got goin' on here. Now you's just pay me my fee dere and we'll be square."

I paid him his fee. I flushed his ass down the toilet. It's full of water. He'll be perfectly happy there.

Another, more sinister side of our bug environs happens in the form of lots of big, scary spiders in the backyard. At first, my attitude toward them was eh, let 'em be -- they're building webs to catch and eat all these effing annoying flies. But then one day when I was winding up the hose after watering, there was this GI-FREAKING-NORMOUS black widow sitting right there on the hose, spinning around as I wound up the hose, sitting there looking at me like I was a giant, tasty bloodsicle and I thought oh heyall naw! I squirted her ass into oblivion. Then the other day, whilst winding up the same hose, there was a big giant brown spider hanging around on it.

Me: "Dude! There is a big brown spider on the hose!"

Derek (across the yard): "Really?"

Me: "Yeah. It's brown with white spots and it's big. I bet you it's a brown recluse. Those things will bore a hole right through your skin and kill a dog easily. It obviously must die." (stomps foot savagely on insectual beast)

Derek: "Do we even have the brown recluse in this part of the country?"

Me: (long pause) "Uhhhhhhh. I dunno. Do we? Oh shoot. Well. I guess better safe than ... you know. Uh. Oh. Well. Crap. Now I feel bad."

I would make a great thug.

Friday, June 16, 2006

I Love Encino In The Spring

Do you see why I'm such a homebody lately and don't want to join the land of the living? Why go anywhere when your pad and its surrounding flora looks like this:

My favorite Big Brown Dog taking time to smell the flowers:
"What? It's not as good as eight-hour butt, but it's okay I guess." My favorite Pugnacious taking the time to give you the ol' hairy eyeball:I stained and finished these teak chairs and table myself. Pretty cute, yes? You have to twist your body into all sorts of positions to adequately stain something. Who knew I was a contortionist? Anyway, this is now my fave place to sit and chill. This was once a carport when the house was built in 1949, but now is a section of yard we refer to as "The Slab". I think it looks like some cute little Italian villa now. I'll take this over Skybar any day: Me and my forehead, kickin' it and being happy:

Monday, June 12, 2006

Horton Hatches A Psycho

What is it with me and the psychos? Do I have a secret Psycho Attracting Device lodged somewhere in my person that the aliens have implanted in me? Don’t you ever wake up in the morning sometimes with a strange mark on your body and realize they have kidnapped you again, and wonder what the hell they implanted in your person while you were under their alien hypnosis thingy during the night? Well guess what? They implanted the Psycho Attractor 3000XGL with turbo boost into my person at some point a few years back.

We go out with Deb and Darren Saturday night. We have a lovely dinner at Primitivo on Abbot Kinney. Love the crap out of that place, man. Some tapas, some wine, some nice conversation. And we were only with, like, the greatest neighbors ever in the history of neighborhood. We head over to the Buffalo Club to meet up with Bethy and her peeps. Deb and I sit at the bar, and immediately, my Psycho Radar starts beeping. Bip bip bip bip bip bip bip beeeeeeeeap! In the words of the Great Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop when he sees the angry-looking dude walk into the strip club with the leather trench coat on (in June), “Something’s getting ready to go down.”

WHAM!!! A Body slams to the ground at our feet (I had on my super cute white Bebe pumps, always a great prop for a psycho drama) -- there was much yelling and general spazzing out of people around and atop the Body. The Body screamed and squirmed like a stuck pig, and the security dude sitting atop the Body yelled at what I presumed were the Psycho Body’s drunk friends, who were trying in vain to calm the Psycho Body down. Security Dude remained perched on top of the Psycho Body and everything quieted down within a few moments, even the Psycho Body. The cops were en route. So Security Dude had to remain perched atop Psycho Body, lest the Psycho Body squirm and flail and spin like a combination whirling dervish/tanked tasmanian devil and destroy everything in its path. An eerie calm settled over the place as Security Dude sat calmly atop the Psycho Body, awaiting handing him over to the arriving Po-Po.

I turned to Deb and remarked, “Remember that book, Horton Hatches The Egg?”

I didn’t tell her that I have the Psycho Attractor 3000XGL with turbo boost embedded in my person since I am afraid she wouldn’t want to go out with me anymore.