M. Giant's
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks

Wednesday, May 05, 2004  

Humpblog (5/5/04)

In Monday's entry, I forgot to mention the other tale of road rage from Friday. Although this is one of a decidedly different flavor.

Trash was out on her lunch break to do some shopping for Dirt's birthday. She was trying to pull into the Shinder's parking lot, but a woman in her eighties was coming out in such a way as to block the entire driveway. Trash didn't honk, or make an obscene gesture, or even rev her engine. She simply gave the other driver a what are you doing? look.

But Maude picked up on it, and as she exited the parking lot, she screamed, "FAAAAAWCK YOUUU!!!" out her open car window, her old-lady voice cracking as it dopplered past.

Trash approved whole-heartedly. In fact, she's already decided that this is how she will interact with other drivers when she reaches her own golden years. It's like an empowering poem:

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go and doesn't suit me
And I will scream
At any motherfucker who looks at me cross-eyed.
You wanna go? We'll go right now, motherfucker!

* * *

We had a guy come out this week to replace the floor in our entryway. The old entryway floor, as executed by the bane of my existence, our house's former owner Dr. Jellyfinger, was two dozen square feet of yellow-and-ivory linoleum tiles that were so poorly laid that they were curling up at the edges. He'd put them down on top of Masonite, over a perfectly good hardwood floor. Idiot.

So the new floor is dark-gray ceramic tile that looks like marble. It's lovely. I picked out the grout for it the other night, deciding that charcoal would go best. And I stand by my choice. It's just that when the guy was grouting—a process which turns out to involve slathering waves of sticky goo on the tiles and then squeegeeing off the excess—the black stuff all over everything was kind of alarming-looking. This was the first time he'd ever worked with that color grout, he told us after it was too late to turn back. Mind you, black grout is just as water-soluble and non-staining as the white and almond he's accustomed to working with. It's just that that black sludge everywhere looked messier. Like it was a psychological thing.

I can see where he's coming from. For instance, three cups of water spattered on your kitchen floor and walls is no big thing, but three cups of blood can be pretty alarming to look at. He didn't seem to take much comfort in my pointing that out.

* * *

Had a good band practice tonight. We were augmented by a fiddler and a mandolin player (who also produced the CD) and we sounded a lot like a real bluegrass band. In a good way.

Speaking of the band, and of the CD, and of the temporary six-piece permutation thereof, you can come experience all three on Saturday, May 15. That's the CD release party. It's going to be at the Ginkgo Coffee House on Snelling Avenue in St. Paul. We're going on at about 9:00 if you'd care to stop by.

Today's best search phrase: "celebrity match unscientific." Oh, now you tell me.

* "I Shall Wear Purple" poem by Jenny Joseph.

posted by M. Giant 9:16 PM 0 comments


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