Oh, look! We still have boxes in here! How do, like, Army people do this, where they move all the ding-dang time? It's so taxing. But it really is nice to be here, at home, rather than a whole 'nother place. This morning I thought about how when Ned and I got up, we'd open the bedroom door and there's be a cacophony of cats the second the door was open. It was like snakes out of a can. You know how often you open up snakes in a can. I'ma open up a can o'snake-ass.
Anyway, I wish every ding-dang thing didn't remind me of my old house. Plus every time I drift off, I see Ned with another woman and I wake up all panicky. It's fun in my head right now.
The good news is, the Stanley Steamer men came yesterday, and "men" is a strong term. There was a young, gleamingly white-toothed boy who was somewhere between illegal and 22, and a young hot man of color along with him. Who wanted to paint herself pink and do a Neapolitan ice cream imitation with her young suitors, do you think?
Who's taken two young men from the fine offices of Stanley Steamer and turned them into her "suitors"? Hey, lid-flipper. How's your flipped lid?
So my hot young boyfriends, who both desperately want to marry me and whatever shall I do, came over with their big hoses and commenced to getting my furniture hot. And if you think I was ridiculous about them, you should have seen Edsel. "Please forgive my dog. He's gay," I said to the men, who looked concerned about both of us, mostly because we were both rolling on our backs exposing our parts.
Now that I have the gate up, all Eds could do is put his lovelorn paws up on it and move his eyebrows around suggestively. And show off his junk. behold edzul junk. hooo wants to brake off a peece of edz?
Once they...turned on their hoses and cleanser...gushed out, Edsel became less enamored of Crockett and Tubbs. He came in here--where I was having crucial IMs with Faithful Reader Fay--and pressed against me, while still managing to moon longingly at his ebony and ivory dream team.
"If Edsel weren't so scared of all the noise they're making, he'd so be carving Hello heads from clay," I wrote Fay.
It's not every day you see three Afro mullets in one sitting. I need to make that a goal. See more Afro mullets in my day. It's like getting your flax, but superior.
Speaking of things from our past, and the issues of our time that everyone should know about such as the Hello video, I overhead at work yesterday, "What was Cheers about?"
What was CHEERS about? It was about how makin' your way in the world today takes everything you got. THAT'S what it was about. Oy!
Which then lead me to thinking about--noodling about, if you will, and I hope you won't--TV theme songs. They don't really do them so much now, do they? I so rarely watch regular TV. And I know I just sounded like an ass just then, whose monocle just fell off my eye. But in the '60s and '70s, theme songs were the shit. And they were RIDIK. Ridik, if you will, and I kind of hope you won't.
Seeing as there's ONE GUY at work who is my age, at least who sits in my general vicinity, we got on the topic of TV lyrics, in particular the Three's Company theme song, and also the Eight is Enough theme song. Which are both ridik.
If you will.
Wait. When I was talking about Edsel sculpting heads like the Hello video, I Googled "Hello head Lionel Ritchie." When I found the image above, I plunked it in here and didn't look anymore, but just now when I went to Google TV theme lyrics, the Lionel Richie page was still up, and I saw all these ridiculous versions of Hello.
(Dear Mom: In, like, 1985, Lionel Richie, formerly of The Commodores, wrote a song that goes, "Hello? Is it me you're looking for?" In the video for the song, a blind woman sculpts his face in clay and she does a terrible job, as blind sculptors are wont to do. XO, June)
Anyway. TV theme songs. Which is the ridiculousest? Because Three's Company is pretty stupid:
Come and knock on our door
We've been waiting for you
Where the kisses are hers and hers and his
Three's company, too!
Come and dance on our floor
Take a step that is new
We've a lovable space that needs your face
Three's company, too!
Yeah, shut up.
But really, Eight is Enough is way worse.
Dude. If I ever start spending my day like a bright and shiny new dime, you are welcome to tell my boyfriends light and dark that I have expired. You are welcome to open a can o'snake-ass on me. Bright and shiny new dime. Like that's so exciting. What is this, 1932? I gotta go. I've got a plate of homemade wishes on the kitchen windowsill and they're attracting cockroaches.
We spend our days like bright and shiny new dimes
If we're ever puzzled by the changing times
There's a plate of homemade wishes on the kitchen window sill
And eight is enough to fill our lives with love