Eh, give it about another week or so. And no, you still can’t use my Kithchen Aid Ultra blender. The last time somebody commandeered that thing in my absence, I spent several tedious hours plucking anejo-bloated grub worm bits out of the blade shaft. Not only that, but a couple of ex-agency beets went missing, too—a “logistical” snafu that continues to cause my dolphin friend no end of trouble.
—Though I have to admit, that last batch of borscht? Had such a sweet mellow kicker that it was almost worth being strapped to a polygraph machine four times in little under a week, then made to sit naked on a block of ice until certain people were convinced I’d simply eaten one too many poppy seed bagels.*
Procatalepsis
Sure, Goldstein could have just made that word up, but it doesn’t look as though he did. Wikifuckingpedia, of all things. Yeesh.
Goddamned linguists. And their dolphins.
So, how’s the new digs working out, Jeff?
Triumph? Will there be elephants?
Oh, and should I stand behind you, muttering “Sic transit gloria mundi?”
‘Cause, y’know’ I charge extra for that.
So far so good, Pablo—though the armadillo, like some poor amputee experiencing phantom limb, is still reaching for the giant bong I had mounted to the floor of the old place, only to come away with nothing but a handful of potpouri I’ve placed in a small bamboo bowl I got at Pier 1.
I’M A GROWNUP NOW, BABY!
More to follow Jeff?
And by the way how is Satchel adapting to the new surroundings?
ALL UR PROCATALEPSIS BAGELS R BELONG TO US.
TW: trial46 …..I’m not going there turing twit….
Roast elephant?
Boy, you wanna talk about leftovers!
Triumphal proctalepsis?
For me to poop on!
TW: europe93. The final countdown!
Triumphant return? Must be some kinda mistake.
Calloo, Callay!
Prolapsis? Elephants?
Guess I’ll skip lunch today.
Oh, and a triumphant welcome back! Hopefully you can show some of these bums that have blogsquatted for the last god-knows-how-long the door, or even the window.
Except Dan. And Karl. And…oh, hell, might as well let ‘em all stick around for a bit.
Damn. I’ve still got a few crappy posts left in me.
The good news about Gay K-mart, aka Pier 1, is even though your nuts have been lopped off, you will find a nice jar to put them in that matches the new decor.
Fight The Power Jeff! You Are Still A Man!
Nature abhors a potpourri. You know this, Jeff. You can’t even bring yourself to spell it right. That “small bamboo bowl” has your nuts in it.
Your “dolphin friend” is a dolphin, right? Not some limbless deformity you nabbed from the carnival and shaved and greased to use as a sex toy? Right? Well, dolphins are the sadistic thrill-killers of the sea, nature’s (other) Ted Bundys, and through an incredible evolutionary fortuity / stunning Grace of Creation, they speak only in James Ellroy quotes. If you could decipher your friend’s squeaks and squirts, I think you’d find him imploring you with this bit of Killer on the Road:
DUMP THE BOWL!
(Bonus: It’s a forensically baffling weapon.)
I sometimes chase the Quilted Northern with a fistfull of potpourri, to hold off that not-so-fresh-feeling until the drive home.
Make sure it’s “septic safe” potpourri, though.
I’ll clear out my small amount of furniture by Friday PM.
Welcome to the stolid, property owning, middle class, Jeff.
Glad to hear you’re coming back, Jeff.
And kudos to all the guest posters, who did an outstanding job. In fact, they did so well they attracted several entertaining species of troll, something I thought would be lacking with Jeff out of the mix.
monkyboy:R.I.P. We hardly knew ye.
monkyboy:R.I.P. We hardly knew ye.
And we liked it that way.
Welcome back, Jeff!
And the armadillo ought to be well rested by now, even if he is a bit dazed after going through withdrawal.
So I want to see that panzer rat dance. And soon!
I won’t hold with the consequences, y’hear? Things could get ugly.
Screw the Kitchen Aid, you need this blender : Total Blender
That thing terrifies me, messablue.
I’m not making this up:
If anyone remebers the “Trivial Pursuit” game show with well-known orange-skinned happy dude Wink Martindale as host, I once won a blender during the home contestant portion. That thing can STILL make mulch out of whole oak trees. The motor is basically a Briggs and Stratton single stroke.
But I digress…is there a rumpus room in the new digs, Mr. Goldstein?
And if not, I specifically recall being promised a rumpus room in addition to the elephants and unicorns.
I have an unfinished basement that holds the promise of a rumpus room—I want to set up a bar with kegerator, a pool table, a juke box, and maybe Golden Tee.
Of course, that’s the sale of two novels and a kidney down the road…
– Goldstein…just taking a wild guess, based solely on your habits, I wouldn’t put too much hope in the kidney thing….
hey, BBH, he didn’t say whose kidney.
About freaking time things get back to abby-normal around these parts……..btw, rumpus room or trib dungeon ? , there’s no need to get hung up over titles dammit’ .
It’s great that Jeff is coming back. But I gotta say, I really enjoy most of the guest bloggers. Especially that Dan Collins character, who makes me laugh out loud on a daily basis when I read his super snarky posts. Definitely keep that cat around.
Errr…there ain’t no such thing as a single-stroke.
Put in a dartboard and a bottomless bowl of ketamine, and I’m in.
Wait…maybe those things don’t go so well together.
OK. So when are we invited over for coctails? I have an unopoened bottle of valium for a house warming present.