Metal Filings

Work progresses on the apartment renovation, in spite of my well founded concerns that irresponsible behavior with power tools may have not only contaminated the property with toxic dust from pulverized concrete, drywall, and many metal parts that finally yielded to my power tools, but also compromised my health and that of my future tenants by exposing us to these corrosive clouds.

Last night I realized that my sinuses are connected not only to my eye sockets, but to the inside of the rest of my face. Saturate your flesh with anticoagulants, shoot it with microscopic metal shards, and they migrate! Your body is going to have a heck of a time dealing with the resultant irritation.

Today I finally found the fancy goggles at Home Depot. (Middle of the tool corral, in an aisle marked, "Personal Safety.") Too late for some, soon enough for many.

I caught Kathy Griffin giving fabulous guest on Whitney Cumming,  and thought to myself, "Look at Kathy Griffin. She is beautiful and radiant tonight! That dress is perfect! I bet she went through her entire day without exposing herself to metal filings!"

CAUTION: NUDITY

I'm watching my favorite terrorizing program on cable, about a series of horrific people doing dreadful things in a mental asylum. Thirteen minutes in, and we've had serial murders, torture, rape, Catholicism, demonic possession, Nazi medical experiments, Santa Claus, alien carnivores,and lesbianism. In spite if the viewer warning, we have not seen any nudity.

They didn't warn us about the abortion with a wire hanger performed on herself by the lesbian who had been raped by a serial killer, but at least we were prepared to see any nudity that might have come on screen.

magnus cinaedus

Don't we love Latin?

Old Tenants - Dirty Habits

I have a vacant townhouse that I'm cleaning and painting to rent. The neighborhood has had its ups and downs, and it seems that it's been on an upward trajectory since the downturn in the real estate market. There was a note under the doorknob yesterday, addressed to "Management" and seeking an a.s.a.p. move due to foreclosure. Today I received an ALL CAPS email, in RED, expressing surprised delight that the apartment she had lived in 15 years ago was available! While a nice young couple with a boxer were taking applications, a wild woman in her 40's and her too-too tattooed ex-con boyfriend had accepted my invitation to "come in." The wild woman turned out to be the ALL RED CAPS person, as well as the author of the note to "Management" stuck in the door. In cleaning the apartment, and the new vanity, I was reminded of the work involved in replacing it. I remembered a strange item, discovered hidden beneath the old vanity. It was a curious thing, made of condoms stuffed with bottles. My assistants immediately knew what it was, and groaned in unison when I finally figured out that it was a homemade sex toy. (Why does everyone seem to expect that I'm a sex-crazed lunatic? Sometimes sex is the absolute furthest thing from my mind!) So would it have been inappropriate for me to ask this woman whether or not she had lost "something" in the bathroom 17 years ago?

It occurs to me that this woman probably never lived at the property, but simply uses this note-on-the-doorknob scenario to find an apartment to rent without using a rental service. Am I this retarded all the time?

I'm sorry I never heard back from the boxer people. If I had simply eliminated the scary people from the situation. With future rental openings, I need to be more in control.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, scary people, but this very nice couple with a lovely dog are going to take this apartment. I think I saw some vacant apartments over near XYZ Street. Maybe you can find something you like over there?"

Sad

Recently I read that when you have a friend who never says a flattering thing about anyone, they absolutely have nothing nice to say about you to anyone else.

So sad, and so true.

Cele-bri-tay!

What is this "celebrity" status, that eliminates your human rights?

You have tacitly consented to having your image used in the public eye, and thereby agreed that anything you do within sight of another, either present or remote, may be suitable for publication.

You can never be shirtless in ANY situation with the expectation that you are alone, without understanding and accepting that your physical attributes will be viciously attacked by bitter queens on anonymous message boards of varying quality.

As compensation, you are a celebrity. That is your profession, and that is how you support your lifestyle.

As a professional celebrity, it is expected that you obtain a percentage, or "kick," from the media outlets that devote air time or ink space to you.

Mrs Fisk at PS8

She was a "floating" teacher, who would visit our class each week when it was time for our music lesson.

Mrs Fisk had highly styled dyed red hair. Her sweaters were always tight against her torpedo breasts. Her nails were long and painted, and she favored bangle bracelets that clanged when she moved her arms.

Her manicure always made a better impression when she moved her arms.

She presided over our weekly school assemblies like a stern general. Proper attire was required ar these events, which meant jackets and ties for the gentlemen and dresses for the ladies. The white glove requirement hadn't been enforced for five or six years.

Anyone without a tie was dismissed as a "weed" that had to be removed, to be kept from spoiling her "beautiful garden."

Halloween always reminds me of Mrs Fisk. Maybe it's the orange...