Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Ding Don Juan

What is a normal number of microwave popcorn bags for a person to eat in one sitting?
Because the other night I ate four.

I think if someone had been around to do a double take, they might have done a double take.

Double takes are hard to draw.

That alluring kernel of corn reminds me of someone I once loved.


No it doesn't.


I just felt like saying that as a contrived way to start writing about old girlfriends.


Because I had some.


My first real girlfriend made me a mixtape with Billy Joel on it, and I had to pretend to like Billy Joel because she was my girlfriend.


I ate dinner at her house one time.


She was an only child, and her parents were kind of somber people.


Dinner was very quiet, except when I tried to use the salad tongs and salad flew all over everything.


Her father probably looked at me then, with ranch dressing on my chin and lettuce in my lap and thought "this is not a man at my table." 


If he had thrown a ball at me, he would of known for sure, because I suck at catching and throwing.


Men throw me things; keys, pocket knives, deodorants, and these things fumble off my fingers and crash to the floor.


When its time to throw the things back, it gets worse. 


I know it is not correct to say "I throw like a girl", so I will say "I throw like me, and it's not very good at all."


Sometimes I throw too hard and the man I was throwing something to looks way over his head and says "Whoah there, heads up, easy big guy" stuff like that.


Or I underthrow, and the thing travels two feet from me and lands awkwardly equidistant between the man and I. 


The man then has stoop down and scoop it up because I remain frozen; after every throw, I need a little time to get my wind back.


I practice throwing motions sometimes, in the mirror, to try and get it right.

I'm right-handed; should my left arm cling tight to my body when I throw, should it extend behind me? Should it point in the same direction I am throwing?

This is strange, but one time I tried to impress my friends by throwing a pickle at the neighbor's house.

I really felt great, doing that.

It seemed so wild, so impulsive.


The act of a person who is really fun and unpredictable.


But the pickle never made it.


It's a metaphor for that girl and her parents. 

I wanted to be a fun man and fling salad all over their table, but they were the pine trees that stopped the progress of my pickle.


Years later, I watched that girl smoke too much pot, flip out, and throw up everywhere. She threw up a lot of pasta in the woods.


Those same woods were the scene of my first time wiping my bottom with newspaper. 

It didn't feel good, but I was really sick and I needed to go.

A girl I had a crush on was coming out to those woods for a party, and I needed to be able to be comfortable around her.


I once arrived at a girl's house for a date, realized I had to go, made up a story about having to pick someone up from work, left the date, went to a nearby friend's house, pooped there, and then came back to the date a half hour later.

She had fallen asleep on the couch. 


We were just getting to know each other, so I could not snuggle up to her or anything. 

I just sat at the end of the couch, thinking of how romantic I was going to be if she ever woke up.


In love have I,
the fool eternal been,
forever squatting
on couch's end.

But I did gets me a wife.

When I first wanted her to kiss me, I said "Hey, smell my beard."

When I asked her to marry me, I hid the wedding ring up the back of my shirt and asked her to scratch my back. 

As she went to work, the little black case traveled down my back hair and popped out where my shirt had ridden up over my belly. 

"What's this?" she asked.

It's romance, my love, and it has come for your finger.

66 comments:

  1. FIRST!!!! aha ha ha ha ha ha

    My day is complete now. (*goes back to read)

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    1. Hey! You have to write more than that, I spent five minutes on this post

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  2. I guess the real question is: do your students appreciate your throwing skills like they appreciate your musical talent? (I'm guessing the answer is "yes.")

    best,
    MOV

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    1. I never throw things around the students, because I might hit them and get in trouble

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  3. Hahahah, i ate a bag of popcorn for din last night..

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    1. Just one? Your self control is mocking me

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  4. I love the line "They were the pine trees that stopped the progress of my pickle" - that would sell like crazy on a T-shirt.

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    1. Thanks, but taken out of context like that, it occurs to me that it sounds kind of dirty, and I fear what sort of illustration might accompany it.

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    2. Oh, I see now the naughtiness of the combination. I just liked combo of the three P words pine progress pickle, and suddenly I was reworking Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. There is always a poet part of me lurking just below the surface, waiting, watching, working ...

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  5. It cracks me up when you announce for us when you're using a metaphor.

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    1. I really feel like its necessary, because the things I write are so impossibly deep, I don't want anyone getting lost in the waves of my verbal woods and wandering forever in a desert of not getting the song I have painted

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  6. Romantic musings delivered through the guise of sports metaphor make it all somewhat more accessible!

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    1. Thanks! I try to write for the people, though I have no idea what I mean by that. It sounds like it would fit with what you wrote, but it might not. Does it? I don't know.

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  7. Entertaining post as ever... it's wonderful the way you make love! ;-)

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    Replies
    1. Isn't it though? You can see why, when it came to brides, I had my pick of the litter

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  8. Replies
    1. Oh yes, my irresiterbility just poots across in my writing

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  9. Oh man! This one made me laugh especially hard. "Hey, smell my beard." I should try that...

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    1. It never fails, in love, and in job interviews

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  10. Four bags is probably less than a giant tub of movie theatre popcorn.

    My daughter threw a pickle off the balcony of our hotel room in the Hard Rock Casino, it bounced off a canopy thing and landed in the pool. Apparently teenagers and pickle throwing go together.

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    Replies
    1. They are rather aerodynamic.
      Your daughter has good taste in projectiles.

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  11. You are impressively self aware.
    I think I could eat four bags of popcorn no problem. It's light and fluffy. It's not like you ate four pizzas...or did you?

    Now I'm practicing throwing in my office to see what my other arm does. If only we had pickles. That would be so badass.

    Your wife is a lucky woman. I only fell for the smell my beard line once. It was wet. Never again.

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    1. What did your other arm do? If you are really a girl, I want to make sure my other arm is doing the opposite of what your other arm is doing, so not to throw like a girl, visa vi you, porque me, et tu.
      My wife is so damn lucky she has no idea. That beard was dry as bone.

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  12. When I was a teenager there was a craze to take the pickles off your McD's hamburger and throw them on the nearest window, preferably in the very restaurant at which you were enjoying said burger. The pickle is such a target for abuse...go figure.

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    1. Cool-that is one of the best olden days stories I've ever heard.
      "Back in our day, we didn't eat no pickles, we flung 'em, we flung 'em at windas, its how we knew we was alive."

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    2. Yup, we watched them "race" to the bottom of the window. Wow. Good times, good times.

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  13. Instead of throwing you should place the item on the floor and gently roll it in the direction you want it to go.

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    1. Ha ha-yes C, nothing more manly than trying to bowl some keys across a carpet, letting out a gruff "Think fast!"

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  14. Man, yet another person who misunderstands Billy Joel.

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    1. I am willing to be converted, but you must do your convincing in the form of hilarious pictures

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  15. Precious.

    When my husband asked me to marry him he said, "Well, with the tax laws changing and all, we should probably get married."

    The first time he said he loved me he said, "Don't quote me on this, but I THINK I love you."

    A shirt up the back and a pickle tossed my way would probably have been an improvement.

    But it gots him a wife.

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    1. a shirt up the back and a pickle tossed my way-sounds like one of those old folk tunes from the dust bowl era, sung by a troupe of happy hobos as they hopped boxcars and dodged roustabouts or something

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  16. Of course I meant a ring up the back of a shirt. But I have no idea why I didn't actually SAY that.

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  17. I once got invited to tea at the house of a boy I liked ( I was maybe 10 or 11, I don't think the boy realised how I liked him either).
    In my house Jelly was the wobbly stuff you had with ice cream and ate with a spoon, Jam was the stuff you spread on bread and scones.

    So - there we are. Me, him, his Mum, Dad and two older brothers all sat round the table.

    I'm eating some bread and butter and his Mum asks me if I would like some 'jelly' and passes me - what was to be fair a sundae dish - of something that sort of looked like jelly. Not wanting to be rude I took it and using the spoon started to eat (the worst tasting ever)'jelly'.
    I did wonder why there was only one dish of it.
    And I did think it tasted more like jam.
    And I did wonder why his Mum and Dad were looking at me like I was odd - when they were the ones who only gave the (disgusting) jelly to the guest.

    But when him and his brothers could no longer contain their laughter I knew I'd made a mistake.

    And (not that he had one) I never got to smell his beard. In fact every time I saw him after, for weeks, I would turn redder then that 'jelly'.

    Goddam it Greenie, if I was as clever as you I would make this story into a picture post for my blog.
    Wanna do another guesty ? lol.

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    1. Thank you for sharing that story.
      I know it is hard to admit when you have been a jackass.
      I can't guest post for you because I am having a hard enough time making crap for my own crap, so I can't crap on other people right now, but maybe in the future I will be ready to crap on you again, at which time I hope you will have my crap, and that I will not have missed an ideal window for making crap unto others doo-dah, doo-dah

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    2. It's ok, I was kinda joking, and anyway you have now reached the giddy heights of blog of note so it really should be me begging to guest here.
      I have however decided that when I have time at the weekend I am going to make that cartoon post of this story myself.
      This has also reminded me of other times when I embarassed myself with my pathetic attempts to get boys attention (before I grew boobs, then I didn't need to try).
      I might have to do a series lol.
      You have inspired me :)

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  18. Romance has come for your finger. priceless!

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    1. I'm glad you like it, feryx lim of australia

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  19. I remember once I got a Cruella DeVille plastic toy from a McDonalds happy meal. I took pickles and put them on her arms and threw it into a tree.

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    1. You are an angry person.
      That is a total mishandling of the pickle throwing act, an act meant to represent carefree times and the growing of hair that scoffs at paternal scissors.
      Did you throw like robot, or girl?

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    2. My arm looks like a catapult when I throw. I think that means I throw like a non-athletic nerd person, which means I throw like a robot girl.

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    3. That totally happened. I remember it clearly.

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  20. Oh.My. Sweet. Jesus. There should be two of you. I would marry the second you.

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    1. Let me see how this marriage I have is headed, you know, after baby#3 and stuff. Do you have money? Because I don't,so dont' expect anything. And I like to sleep in a lot. Are you stuck on that name 'Nellie'? That might have to go. We'll see. Are there any mirrors facing your toilet? Can't stand that. That's a dealbreaker for me. I'll walk right back out and chase down the cab that brought me from the airport. I'm not joking.
      Oh and when I kiss women for the first time, I make this weird sound. Its nothing. It sounds like a fart but it isn't.

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    2. WOW. Now I am in line to be the Second Wife (but I am not a Mormon, so the First Wife would have to go, but I do not mean Michelle Obama, I just mean I don't believe in marriages where one person has, like, 4 wives and the other person has, like, one sorry husband). I should have simply typed in Wife Number 2, but I know EXACTLY what you would do with that material, *ahem*.

      On second thought, I think I will just stay with my current husband. He might not know how to draw, but he does not expect me to change my name to Nellie. And we like our toilet mirrors, thank you very much.

      best,
      MOV

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    3. I'll be the third sister wife AND I can bring a disabled kid with me so I'm really rounding out the picture. Oh and I'm Australian so I'm adding a totally 'international' flavour to the scene.

      Poifect.

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  21. G-man! I love how popular and celebrated you have become. I know I personally do a little jiggle when I see something new pop up on this, my favorite of websites.
    You deserve the fame :]
    I don't know if you do requests, but can I hear some more about Bikram? Sometimes when I feel sad I go and re-read that story, but it's been one times too many for my own psychological comfort now.
    I know you've got more!
    Love,
    O

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    1. Olga, you sure know how to flatter me....
      For you maybe I do another Bikram, but with all the special ed stuff, it runs the risk of becoming too redundant. In his case, it might just be a list of weird things he did, devoid of creative flair. I'll think about it and see if any inspiration comes.

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    2. Just being honest, love :]
      When I first came on here and you had like ten followers, and I read your writing, I was like "How the fuck does no one know about this shit??".

      And absolutely not it is not redundant. Though I love your stories about yourself (I relate to your 'crippling social anxiety' on a very deep personal level), each and every story is special, even Jeffrey's Calculator Adventures, still get a fresh laugh. From me, anyway, I don't know.

      But Bikram is fascinating on an entirely different level. Loved those drawings of his.
      Speaking of "Special" Drawings, you should check out some of the books out there with collections of drawings by schizophrenics and insane-asylum patients. So amazing.

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  22. Ha, ha. I'm just glad you had some newspaper with you in those woods. I hope it was the sports section, what with your awesome athletic ability and all.

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    1. I don't know what it was, but it was not gentle with me.

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  23. Replies
    1. For a second I had no idea what you were even talking about. I thought you were calming a horse. Then I made my wife read it, and she said "Oh its Alan, remember don't try to be funny when you comment back to Alan, you always end up looking bad. You just look bad when your little comments line up under Alan's."

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  24. Wow, you sound like an older me, which is the worst insult i could leave here.

    I wanted to do a paintstyle art blog for awhile now, then i started and found yours and damn, you funny man.
    I'm actually training to be a teacher.
    small world.

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    1. Thanks for reading. I'll check out your blog!

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  25. Lovely story. I used to be able to skim stones like a pro (because pros skim stones...) and taught my boys. Now after years of no skimming my boys are teaching me to skim and throw, humbling.

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    1. I guess I am lucky then, since I am unable to teach my boys how to throw, they will never throw better than me. Yes.

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  26. I know this post really isn't about popcorn...but I love microwave popcorn. I've definitely eaten more than 4 bags in one day.

    One time I was at the movies and I kept going back for refills on the popcorn tub, and later on at the grocery store I started hallucinating. I'm not kidding. I think the "butter" is actually drugs.

    Also, I often get popcorn kernels stuck in my eye.

    I guess my point is...I think it's perfectly normal to eat as much popcorn as you want, no matter what the consequences are.

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  27. Thanks Jessica. Though to be honest, I am not sure how much to value the reassurance of someone who regularly gets popcorn kernels stuck in her eye, mostly because I am uncertain of the mechanics involved in making that happen. But I do like your "Fates be damned" attitude towards eating obscene amounts of popcorn.

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  28. Last month for my birthday my boyfriend gave me his aunt's old purse. I know this because he answered "Where did you get this?" with "It's my aunts. She was just going to throw it away." The strap was stapled back on and there was a whole in the side from a cigarette burn. However, I found a dime in the bottom of it. Score.

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    1. The dime was probably the real present, and the old purse was just the humorous wrapping. See, he knew what he was doing.

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  29. So when I did ballet I was the ONLY one to ONLY get the award for turning up each week. Everyone else got that along with something else, like best hair bun or some shit. I don't know, I was too busy basking in my mediocrity.

    Then I tried tennis. And had to be taken into a separate room for extra lessons on left and right. Apparently that was important in regards to forehands and backhands or some nonsense.

    Then mum made me try netball. Considering it was a breezy three years later they realised I really needed glasses the spectacular FAIL of that enterprise should have been no surprise.

    So they gave me a stick and a ball (field hockey) and I was sorted.

    I have NO idea why I'm telling you all this.

    Also - I've always made myself stop at one bag of popcorn but now you've made it totally OK to line em up.

    I got a bit lost there - with the shitting and hoiking in the woods and was getting slightly alarmed but is no matter. You still come out of it alarmingly well.

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  30. Does sorted mean you were all set? Thanks for reading, sorry you get lost in the woods part, but I have a very hard time staying on one topic when I write, so I tend to meander

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  31. Yes, sorted = set. I'm much better with a stick in my hand. Wait. That came out wrong.

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