2008-04-09 - 10:40 p.m.

These are arms of mine? They're hurting. And sore. Because Nick is a stern taskmaster who won't let me just skip about the gym humming tunes and picking dandelions. Oh no, not Nick. He strictly believes that I have to lift weights and adjust pulleys, and square shoulders, and straighten my back, and make sure my elbows are parallel, and make sure I don't swallow my own tongue. And now my arms hurt even when I type. Because I don't think Nick is happy unless I'm in severe pain. Which I am. But not because of these arms of mine. Because of my tranny. Won't you read on to find out? Oh, how grateful I would be.

So I'm leaving my excavating job at Les Diamant Mines the other day and I throw my car into reverse. Except it doesn't so much go in reverse. It doesn't go anywhere. I hate this car. I never thought I could ever hate a car as much as I hated my jeep. But guess what? I hate this car. If my car morphed into Kirstie Alley, learned how to line dance, and ran for office in my county as a "compassionate conservative", I still don't think I could hate it anymore than I already do. My car? I hate it a lot. And it deciding it can no longer go in reverse only makes me bleed out my eyes slightly more than usual.

So I stop Jamie before he (and his all-purpose jon boat) take off for what was no doubt going to be some sort of fly tying hijinx. He pushes the car backwards and I throw it into drive and it works and I coast home (luckily I live downhill from work) due to the fact that the fuckmobile won't go more than 35 mph. I park it on the street that night knowing I won't be able to back it out of the streets of San Francisco that is my driveway the next morning. I put, put, put it to the garage yesterday morning and they check it out. He tells me best case scenario: my transmission fluid either has a leak or has been burning off and he can fix it and top it off. Worst case scenario: Tell my family I love them, get fitted for cement shoes, and jump off the Piscataqua Bridge. That's not exactly what he said. But that's how my brain translated it.

You'll never guess!! (Maybe you already did. Damn you.) Worst case scenario! No, I'm not jumping off the bridge (yet) because AAMCO came and towed my car away and brought it to the faraway land of Portsmouth to install a new transmission in it for the low, low price of $1,595.00!!! What a steal! Sometimes I wish that island would just let me jump of the bridge. I don't want to go back! Let the smoke monster finish 'em all off.

So in honor of my hellacious tranny quagmire I thought we could play a game that I recall Montell Williams used to revel in. Ol' Montell would march/sashay a bunch of lady-esque models out on stage/catwalk and make everyone in the audience (and you at home!) guess whether they were a man or a woman. Obviously, if they were a man, they were also, by definition, tran-tacular as well. The rule of thumb always seemed to be that the normal looking women would always end up just being women (regular type) and the ones that looked like Secret Vegas Wives cooked up by some sort of Evil Sex Scientist in his lab in Vienna? Ding, ding! (Or is it "dong, dong"?) You've got yourself a tranny! So let's see how my eagle-eyed readers do with the same exercise!

Full disclosure: I myself, a former America's Sweetheart, don't even know which one of these are trannies and which ones are not-so-tranny. So I shall provide my guesses as well! Won't that be fun?! [I seemed to think so.] Ready . . . and . . . go!

Patriotic, fiery, sexual dynamo . . . I say definite Tranny.

Artist, hairy, has the pulse of the fashion world . . . I say Woman.

Whoa! Whoa. Put her back in. This one is not done yet! Hmmmm. Likes flowers. Likes jaunty kepis. Nice broad shoulders. Enlarged Adam's apple. I say Man.

Hmmmm . . . this is a tough one. Funky glasses. Towel festish. Curious color scheme. I say Tranny.

Vengeful, odd eyeliner choices, hairstyle reminiscent of 70's Farrah Fawcett. This is a gamble. But I'm going to say, a.) He-Man villian and follow it up with b.) Woman.

Tranny. Straight up.

Hmmm, I sort of expected lazers in the back of this picture and a bigger, more wicker chair. I like the hairstyle. Very "now". Wasn't this that style everyone was copying off of Jennifer Aniston during the height of Friends? The choice is going to have to be . . . woman.

The bulbous features and clear lack of common sense or fashion sense leads me to one answer: Man.

Whoa! Those are some fabulous glasses. I bet he/she needed some fabulous money to buy such fabulous spectacles! The belt seems a little wide for the unitard, but the jacket is pretty sparkly, which I think any man on the street would tell you means? Tranny.

Oh GOD! My eyes! They're burning!!! It looks like a plunger had sex with a warthog and then lit it on fire and made it dress up like a penis for Halloween!! I'm inclined to think that this is some middle-western high school civics teacher. But my momma taught me better than that! TRANNY!

Ugh. She/He looks like a dead bird that someone left on the hood of a car at the beach and forgot to put any sun tan lotion on. Not that I blame them. How many of you ever put sun tan lotion on dead birds on cars? Ok, how many of you except for Aly? This creature defies all catergorization. I can't comfortably choose man, woman OR tranny. I'm going to go with . . . Sub-human Slime Creature . . . azoid. Yup, Sub-human Slime Creatureazoid. Has a nice ring to it.

So that, in a glitzy, push up, high heeled nutshell, is my trouble with trannies. Be careful. A tranny can be your best friend, but if you have trouble swinging it into rear gear, they can cost you over $1,500!

It's been real,

Balthazar

ps - NEW POLL! It only took 10 months!! The top votes for the last poll, which asked what was most likely going to happen at TC & Jackie's wedding? 3rd Place, 4 votes, "Zach eats enough appetizers to choke 3 small horses - and an okapi". 2nd place, 6 votes, "Jimbo drinks directly from the punch bowl - with his feet". Tied for 1st with 7 votes each, "Monique eats the top tier of the wedding cake - before TC & Jackie cut it" and, my personal favorite, "The National Enquirer sneaks a picture of Rob, Bob, TC & Ryan and publishes it as, 'The Family Sasquatch'" Vote early and often in the new poll below!!

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