Nitty Gritty Neuroses
So my son has a bit of obsessive compulsive disorder, and it’s throwing him that the new buzz phrase amongst the yuppie business folk is now “I have to take a bio break”. My boy loves the precise, concise, on-the-mark words that don’t need further explanation, and the fact that somebody is taking a bio break really screws with him. He wonders not if they’re taking a piss, grabbing a soda, or having a smoke (not that THAT is kosher among the bio boys and girls), but if they’re molting or if they’re alien and laying eggs into someone’s brain or if they’re just lying to get out of the meeting early. I imagine he’ll blog about it soon, just to relieve the pressure building up in his brain’s personal bio file. I’m assuming ‘bio break’ includes whatever deals with biological functions, but I’m not sure and don’t know any yuppies to ask other than the one who hates the phrase.* * * * *
Neighbor Dee Dee’s cat was old but wonderful, and somebody hit her the other day with their car. Dee Dee is my friend who ran out into her yard naked a year or so ago hollering for one of the cats and got busted by our cute backyard neighbor. “Trouble! Trouble! Goddamnit, Trouble!” And, of course, our neighbor might not have dropped his coffee cup onto his cement patio if he’d heard “Fire, fire!” or “Rape! Somebody help me!” – he’d have just responded. But a naked Dee Dee crying “Trouble” fucked him up, and all he could do was stare for several minutes until she realized her boo-boo and got her bum-bum back inside.
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Anyhoo. Dee Dee’s son is a sweetheart, but he’s a tad schizophrenic, and he was afraid their dog would dig up the cat, and he didn’t want to bury her just yet anyway, so he hung her in a bag in their storage shed. For days. I have no idea if the cat is still hanging or if she’s been buried. I’m afraid to ask.
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We’re talking sweet, sweet kid. He just thinks differently. He mows the lawn wearing a motorcycle helmet to keep aliens from picking his brain.
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Other neighbor Kelly Jo had to chase her new puppy down the street this morning, because Fido probably heard some squirrel’s heart beating from 1000 yards away and ripped from her arms to find out where the critter was hiding. Bit exciting seeing her in her flip-flops dashing madly towards the UPS man, chasing the little bugger. The dog, not the man. - I felt for her, though. Had to give my own pets their flea & tick meds this morning, and this is not something they enjoy. My own neuroses, I suppose. I feel like a mean mama when I adminster stuff they don't like and a bad one if I don't.
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And this is how my morning started. People often ask where I get my ideas. All I can do is shake my head and tell them that I simply tone down the truth. If I embellished, nobody would believe me even a little bit.
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The pic, by the way, is one Jackie sent of our adorable friend Gretchen. Doesn't she have the coolest eyes? And that expression makes you wonder what she's up to. I think she was holding a tommy gun at the shooting range at the FBI Academy.
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Have a great day, everybody.
~ Sunny Lyn
posted by Bobbie (Sunny) Cole @ 11:35 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I want to move to your neighborhood.
people are a scream, aren't they? I haven't enjoyed waking up like this in years. think I'll miss it if we move.
(dorothy clicks her heels and murmurs: there's no place like home, there's...)
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