Ashie Ashie Ashie

Oh dear, Smash is home. Home taking care of Gramma. Straight out of Throw Momma from the Train. Today there was a wildly entertaining voicemail to dear Ashley. She was just minding her own business, talking, like she does. Phone rings. She doesn't usually answer the phone, unless it's me. Right? Thank God she didn't. I'm gonna tell you what, I love Gramma Vicki, she's a peach. A little spit fire. Full of piss and vinegar. She gave Chase a brass bull. I said, bull. For real. It was really cute. We were a-visitin' and she just gave him a little present. Anyway, back to the voicemail. It went a little something like this, you have to imagine a very gruff, long time with the cigs, 95 year old female yellin' atcha, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHERE ARE MY CIGARETTES? NOBODY IS GOING TO TAKE ME CIGARETTES AWAY! NOT EVEN YOUR MOTHER! NO ONE IS GOING TO TELL ME HOW TO LIVE IN MY HOUSE."

Let me tell you, I agree with Vicki, I mean, she's 95, she wants her cigs. Give her her cigs. The only problem is she had a heart attack last week. Now, I'm no doctor, but I'm thinkin' cigarettes might not be the best idea? The thing is, if she really wants them, what are you gonna do? Buy her the cigarettes Ashley. Toss them through the dog door and then run like the dickens. Or perhaps just plummet yourself right off Gramma's roof before she burns the whole damn place down.

Ashley gave her the cigs. Took her hits from her, packed up her beer and stole the only lighter in the house and hightailed it out of there. And then she turned her phone off.

Off the Winter Wagon

I've had enough. For real. I get it. It's cold. It's ugly. My fingers are frozen most of the time. That stupid muskrat saw his shadow or didn't see his shadow, which ever way makes it keep being winter. That whole thing reminds me of when you hear people say, "They're off the wagon," about someone drinking. I could never remember if 'off the wagon,' was the good one or the bad one. Maybe the got off the wagon cause it was full of booze. Or maybe the wagon was full of liquor, they drank it and then fell off the wagon. It was confusing to me.

Okay, I just googled it. It seems in the 1800's (back in the day) some crazy folks decided they wanted to live with no alcohol so they campaigned for the government to ban it. Damn, they really needed some more hobbies. Anyway, in literal terms (I'm all about exact words, just like Greg Brady) a wagon was a water cart that was used to hose down streets when they got to dusty. These guys would rather jump on the cart and drink water than quench their thirst with a drip of alcohol. Clearly this was before the invention of the mojito. So I guess if they hung out on the wagon they could drink water. If they got OFF the wagon it was cosmos and beer bongs. Now we all know. You can thank me later.

What was I talking about? Winter. Yes. It sucks. It's stupid and it's starting to grate on my nerves. Twist, could you possibly give one of those nice things about winter lists (don't recycle any old stuff though) I need a little pick me up. I'm going to go lie out now and get a tan. I think the sun will reflect nicely off the ice rink in my back yard.
Look at my poor, "dog that actually is a dog."

Billy the Cat Guy

Somewhere in a not to distant land called New York City all sorts of odd situations are going on constantly. In fact, you can't swing a dead cat without running into one.

So my brother gets this cat (completely against my wishes, cause I am highly allergic, and I like to visit him a lot- and I'm thinkin', it's about all me, right Mark?) Anyway, on some crazy whim he goes and adopts one. Guess what? He is so allergic to it, he is constantly on meds, and not the good kind. He needs to lose this sweet little fur ball. He's to nice though. He doesn't want it to go back to the clink.

Here enters "Billy." Billy is the "Cat Adoption Consultant." Which, really, I'm not making fun of, I love the title. I think it's awesome. He's from a no kill shelter. They screen the adopters and ask them to call if it doesn't work out. This is what my brother did. So Billy comes over and has a little session with the cat (whose name I don't know- sorry Cat.) He is supposed to be there for a half hour kinda just hanging out with the cat.

Times up and my brother is running late but Billy doesn't seem to be rushing out of there. My brother decides to show Billy some Youtube video cause there are cats in it, Christian the Lion. Have you seen this. It's a sweet one. Well, Billy starts to cry. Oh dear, right in my brothers apartment, tears are a streamin'. Seeing as Billy seems to like it, Mark goes one step further with This little ditty. So now Billy is in full on sobbing. Mark's slightly uncomfortable and he really needs to work. He tell's Billy, "I'm sorry, I need to get going, I have to get some stuff done." Billy isn't ready to leave yet, he says to Mark, "I'll go if you show me just one more thing." "What?" says my brother. "I want to see Patti Lupone." What the hell, he's already running late. Mark clicks back on Youtube and Billy guides him to the Patty Lupone video, which is honestly gayer than Liza and Betty Buckley combined. Billy watches in awe as he shimmies his shoulders and thrusts his hips to the music. He claps, he sings, he is having the best time. Which truthfully I'm glad about. I was getting worried about him.

Well, I really think the moral of this kinda silly story is I'm glad my brother is a nice person. I think while it seems a little odd that Billy would carry on and insist on watching Patti, I think it's nice my brother took the time to show him. If you watch the first video (alone) there is a chance at tears, it is so sweet, you might not be able to help it. And the second video is just the perfect example that every breathing thing wants to feel love and feel connected and have a friend. Sometimes those friends come in all different shapes and sizes. So when you see that someone or something has found that love, shouldn't you just be happy for them? Shouldn't you just clap your hands and think, "Thank God for them, two less lonely souls in the world." It's why I don't get when people care if someone else is gay. It makes no sense to me. I have a gay brother so I think I am allowed to express the "gayness" of Patti Lupone. It doesn't mean I'm judging it. It just means I get it. Just like all big burly men watch football. EVERY single one of them. Right?
Billy isn't his real name either.


Mark's cat, still looking for a place to call home. Little cutey.