2003-12-11 - 2:56 p.m.

Look. I know Cherry Pepsi when I taste it. So don't go peeing on Judge Judy's leg and tell me it's Mug Root Beer. Cause it ain't! I like cherries as much as the next guy, especially if an artificial cherry flavoring agent is being used to gussy up a Mister Misty Freeze. (Not to be confused with a Mister Mister Freeze, which only come in Kyrie flavors.) Seriously, I amuse myself so much. Sometimes I think that others must be amused too. But then I bounce this shit off of Al-Y as she cleans the back room behind me as I type and she just politely smiles and says shit like, "I don't know that Mr. Mister song.", and "Do you know the government has been injecting bits of ham into apples?" You know Al-Y, always mouthing off about hidden government shadow conspiracies involving injecting fruit with meat products. I think she expects us to swallow all that tripe. And now a new paragraph, brought to us by our friends at the Meat Council, and sponsored by delicious tripe!

So what's happpening? Not to be confused with what's happening now? Get it? I don't care - because I do. It's raining like a son of a bitch. Assuming that a son of a bitch rains a lot. You'd think I'd have lots of fun things to do today what with all that saving things for a rainy day and various rainy day funds. But all I have is a yellow change purse that says, "Carter '76" and one of those red plastic robot looking things from a Frosted Flakes box that you put on your BMX spokes and it goes, "clicka clicka clicka clicka . . . clicka . . .sploorch!" (The sploorch is when your shoe laces get caught in the chain and you fall into a pile of wet leaves and get covered in slugs and then your handle bars are all fucked up and the bottom of the palms of your hands and your wrists are all scraped up and a little bloody. And you get all that black greasy oil all over your fingers trying to put your damned chain back on and your knee hurts like a son of a bitch. That reminds me. It's raining. And I'm covered in slugs. No I'm not. But I wish I was.) And seriously. I fucking hate cherry flavored soda. Grape too. I always think it attracts bees. And then they'll sting me. Stupid bees. They're always defending themselves somehow.

Wow. That's two paragraphs I've ended with Simpsons references. Good for me. But I'm not gonna keep it up. Too much pressure. Besides, I need to get back to writing that book of tongue twisters. GOOD one, Beth! Ruth Buzzi better watch her back!

Alright, settle down all you Ruth Buzzi afficianados, we're gonna have some visual aids for this next part.

Ready? Ok.

Brown Bearon =

Red Bearon =

Hayley =

Ok. So here we go. So yeah, I just want you all to know that Marianne wasn't sure she was gonna get the brown Beanie Baby bear, and she thought she was gonna get saddled with the red Beanie Baby bear. It's name is Bearon (get it?! instead of BARON - which it looks like with its precious aviator goggles and scarf - it's Bearon!! Hee hee!). Anyway, we didn't all realize here at the Wallakers that the brown Bearon was the exclusive rare one and thusly didn't set it aside for Marianne and then rascally Natalie came and bought all the brown Bearons . . . or what we thought were the rest of the brown Bearons!! Yup, that's right! I mean THERE WAS AN EXTRA ONE! Yup, that's right! And good ol' Hayley set one aside for her! That's right, Hayley! Honest Abe herself! It was a close call friends, but don't worry. I think we're gonna make it after all!

Yeah. So let's take a step back from all this Wallakers hilarity/hysteria. I've been to LA a lot lately visiting Nanny. She started her chemo last week and while chemo is hardly ever on the top of anyone's Christmas List, it's actually perked her up a bit and made her more energetic. Which is the exact opposite of what I thought it did. But then again, I'm not a Cancerologist and I earned my PhD by watching every single episode of St. Elsewhere. So yeah . . . the chemo actually seems to have boosted her up a bit. We thought she'd be upset about having to be readmitted to the hospital (due to her having so many tests in such a short span of days), so I left work ealy last week and stayed in Sanbornton so my mother and I could meet her at 7:30 the next morning when she found out she'd be readmitted. Except she knew all about it and was excited. She's insane. Never try to guess how Nanny is gonna react to something. She'll fool you every time. Unless it's knocking on her door during a blizzard. That'll elicit a shotgun every time. Just ask TC. {"Yup, It's all true. All of it." - TC} But anway. She's doing better than I thought she'd be doing which just proves to me that Nanny will probably out live us all. Is out live two words? It doesn't look right as one: outlive. It looks like some kind of spicy olive. Oh well.

News on the Buddy front: The Armenian buddy, "Coty" as he's known to some, is currently luau-ing it up with Liz in Hawaii. He's there for his marathon that he's running and that he's been training months for. I swear, I probably wouldn't even recognize Co-tie these days. I guess he's skinnier than Fred now. Ok, ok - I kid. That's impossible. Besides, Coty's enviable fashion sense would give him away in a heartbeat. I talked to him last night when I called Liz and unexpectedly got Coty. It's amazing how quickly one can slip into "buddy speak", especially when it's been so long since I've spoken in that particular tongue. It's easy to imitate, but I'd say that Coty, Frederick, Marshall and I could probably win the contest. If there was such a contest in which a team of four had to talk like borderline retards with a slight surfer's accent. Just saying is all. Although I must say Jimbo does a mean "Buddy" himself. Anyway, Coty seemed psyched about his marathon but still vexed about two things that constantly seem to be vexing Coty. #1. He still wants to know the significance of the "guy in the red sweat suit" in Donnie Darko. Ben and I couldn't offer him any answer back in April and he just spoke to TC, who finally saw it, and TC came up empty as well. #2. And, as evidenced from a recent comment in the comment section, Coty's apparently still holding a grudge over the fact that I laughed at him when he had a cramp in his leg. A cramp in his leg FIVE YEARS AGO. Never let it be said Armenian's will let you off the hook. And then there's Winslow's favorite son, Frederick. Frederick is having himself quite the quandry. He's buying himself some Christmas presents (since he knows no one in this cold harsh world loves him enough to buy him anything . . . what?! That's not too harsh. I'm only quoting his mother. Jeeze. If you want harsh, ask me what I really think about Brad.) ANYWAY, so Freddy can't decide between two items and he only has enough money to buy one. Why does this sound like a set up for a word problem? Anyway, take a look at what he's got it narrowed down between. It's a toss-up between the Junior Spaghetti Tank and the Infant Creeper. Only a fool wouldn't go with the Creeper.

Did you hear? Didja? Star Jones has found love. I guess it's true. There's someone for everyone.

_+_ = TRUE LOVE 4-EVA AND A DAY!

My God, it looks like Star is gonna eat him alive! Speaking of eating monstrous amounts, Monique will be here tomorrow. Hooray! I'm picking her up at the bus stop in Portsmouth and we'll all paint the town several different shades of red. And by that, I mean go to dinner, have drinks, and then all go back to our place and play beirut. You're jealous, I know. I don't blame you. I know it would be a lot cooler for her to surprise me like I did for her, but I guess she just can't be as cool as me. And then Saturday, her, Ben, and myself will join my mom and Don in Boston for Simon & Garfunkel. And then we're staying down there. Super sweet. What does Monique say about the whole thing? "I am so fricken' excited to meet Chef Chen and to eat lots of steak. Ideally, I would like to eat lots of steak with Simon and Garfunkel but I know that that's not really possible. Bring on the food!" Blech, her and that louse Chef Chen will surely hit it off.

Well, that's all for now. Don't worry, I'll tell Paul and Art that you all say hello.

It's been real,

Murdoch

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