1. No food or beverage shall contain nuts of any kind
2. Only 100% organic foods are permitted
3. Must be certified pesticide/herbicide/GMO free
4. Eggs and poultry must be certified Free Range
When this was brought to his attention by several of the community residents with young children, he felt like rubbing the development the wrong way even more, partially due to a fusion of spite and sadistic pleasure. He'd turn his entire front lawn into a garden of weeds. Not marijuana, but a tribute to all of them wild growing things the people in his neighborhood would spend their money to get rid of. A couple leftist high school teachers found it amusing - like trash art or dada, but they were in the minority. Azz-geir partitioned off groups of Queensland Blue Couch, Dandelion and Daisies, Comb Finger (Asian and Southern), and a variety of multi-colored thistles - every weed neatly pruned and labeled.
"Leading Call Girls to Christ" had hit their monthly goals, and the Narcissism Groups or N-Groups were recruiting heavily. The PTP and other Eminence cultists felt as though a well-deserved celebration was in order. It was time for "Halo's 'n Hops" (sometimes called "Pilsners, Prayer, and Praise Night" - depending on what night of the week it was) at the Rutledge Club just up the way; you know - you can't hardly miss it- up chair- next to the big 'ol intersection over yonder - by the Grande Mausoleum, right across from it - you know where ahm talkin' 'bout. Right?
The Nitpicker Brigade were now mostly comprised males of the men-au-pausal type over the age of sixty; suits and neckties to the office and kinky maid's outfits and pantyhose to bed, or "asexual business protocol and acquisition by day," then "dominated like cross-dressing lipsticked Tenderloin, CA tramps by night." Imfermiable chauvinism. Unfair compartmentalization. The best Tatiana could do would be to just 'dyke-it-up' for a while, sporting a crew cut and butchy LL Bean windbreakers, and just follow the international code of business - desexualizing her work environment as best she could.
Landfills all over the planet earth at this point in time were filling up quickly with micro-computers that had tiny touch screens, capable of accessing virtually any content from the beginning of time. Addison thought gathering up as many of these gizmos at the landfill would be really beneficial by way of care packages to underdeveloped countries. "They're just fine the way they are," Joe'd say. "They don't need American technology. Can't you see they're happy just throwing spears and eating raw boar meat and running around barefoot with huge plates in their lips and ears? You have this false sense of guilt and privilege because of NatGeo propaganda."
Three weeks later, Harris and April would pack up for their big trek to Utah, because April was convinced she wanted to become a Latter Day Saint. Harris was free spirited enough, and up for the down-stroke because he had cut ties with that whore of a slut, Melody, once and for all. He had no interest in monotheism or any other faith-based institutions, but found April's company beyond amusing. They didn't have any more than fifty bucks between them when they hit the road, but April was a whiz at hacking bank accounts in just about any establishment that had wi-fi access. A goddess of fraud, deception, and virtual theft. "It's not my fault no one carries cash anymore. If people did that, I'd be out of a job," she'd laugh. "Look at these want ads. Eh... they drug test and background check. I can fix that real quick." Harris wouldn't stop asking her to get him a fake ID. He wanted to start afresh and become a productive member of society and stop smoking and become a driving instructor.
Near Branson, MO, they had decided to steal a car because the old Saturn they were driving was on its last leg. They did this during a chaperoned test drive at a Kia dealership. "Get out," April'd say, pointing her Smith & Wesson at the poor salesman, pulling up to a stop sign. "Here," he'd say, "take my wallet too Just don't kill me!" Eventually they'd make their way down the freeway, take a random exit, and locate an abandon barn to replace the tags and do a quick paint job on the car. They felt like their options were starting to open up. Harris was convinced at this point that everyone on the planet was a felonious criminal and that laws and regulations were nothing more than a list of jokes imposed on the working class. Telemarketers came to mind.
-Why aren't pencils and hairspray illegal?
-Because they're boring.
-Exactly.
-Why are street drugs illegal, and why are exorbitant taxes and regulations placed on alcohol, tobacco, and firearms?
-Because public demand is placed so highly on them. If society didn't want or need them, the government wouldn't classify them as contraband.
-Now you're catching on. Couches? Antique lamps? Brita Water Filters?
-Worthless. Tiny tax.
-Good. How about apples and Crystal Light water enhancers?
-Those are both considered food products and thereby subsidized by the government as food product that can be obtained for free of one has a government food card.
-Do you understand why they lock up baby formula and premium razor blades at Walgreens?
-Because the demand is so high?
-Try again. Ooh look Harris - there's a Planet Fitness and a Hallmark store. Let's stop. I need to send my aunt a gift card and some Precious Moments Ceramic Dolls. Her birthday is in a couple of weeks and I don't want her to think I've forgotten she exists.
-Great. While you're doing that I'm going to head over to that Ace Hardware and stock up on bug spray and bungee cords. You never know.
-Smart thinking.
April pulled into the strip mall and parked quickly.
-You think twenty will be enough?
-Yeah. More than enough. Thanks.
-Bring me the change and we'll stop at the Baskin-Robbins afterwards. I want a frozen birthday cake for the trip.
10 minutes later:
-Now we're all stocked up and ready to roll. But what about the cake? It's going to melt.
-You know you're right. I didn't even think about that. We're gonna' have to stop at that gas station up there and get a cooler of ice.
It was the Week of Impulse at the Rec Center. The doo doo gooders™ were donned in checkered shirts and had their blue jeans pegged. They all lined up in a row, waiting for their names to be called. Fenton won the Most Savage Award and held it high so even the nosebleed section could take notice. Ms. Kin Joiners took home the award for Most Improved Garden, awarded by Chris Trellot, HOA President.
- Thank you for not soliciting (unless you're cute, rich, and under the age of 12)
- 15 MPH - Strictly Enforced
- Welcome!
"I see you've been giving that ferret of yours bodybuilding arms," said Chris, chin pointing to Chibi, the miniature poodle. "Running you up one hell of a steroid bill I'm sure," laughing at his own joke.
"She's worth it Chris. Keeps her tongue nice and strong."
"T.M.I. Hoss," said Chris. "T.M.I."
"Don't you work too hard today."
"HA! Lemme get that business card of yours slim!"
Chris and his wife Connie would be having their twenty third wedding anniversary at the most exclusive sushi spot in town that night, and his typical morning conversations and business dealings would be put on hold for pure silence as he debated in his mind over the watch or the much simpler bracelet. "Should I give her the box before or after dinner? Maybe on the way to the party? Hmm. I really want her to be surprised - like I'm popping the question for the first time," he though. Chris and Connie had built a strong and faithful marriage and their twin girls would be on their way to Ivy League schools in the fall.
//TrayCorp Makes Right with Its Loyal Customer Base//
:recall 01-f055.c
[or - Azz-geir got into the Qorltainisrep again]
-I hate socks
-Why?
-Cause I lose them. They don't stay together.
-Sounds like a personal problem
-You keep all your socks together?
-Yes. It's simple. I always throw them in the dirty hamper. You throw all your clothes on the ground. Have you seen these new wire inventions they got? It's a single wire twisted into a device that latches on to metal bars in the space called a 'closet'..."
-You're a fucking cretin - and your sarcasm isn't funny. Who puts dirty socks on hangers?
-You'd be surprised.
-Oh would I now?
-I see you've cleaned your act up somewhat.
-What does that mean? I admit, I'm not a good sock organizer but why do you change the subject so much?
-I'm bored.
-What's the cure for that?
-Can we just have an adult conversation? Not this playtime psychologist charade...
-I thought that's what we were having.
-Hardly.
-Ice cream's on sale this week.
-I'm done with sugar. I don't even hide it anymore. I feel so much healthier since quitting.
-Eating a quart of Fudge Brownie Blitz and trying to hide the empty box underneath your bed in one sitting isn't being done with sugar.
-You know you're right? You got me. Busted. How am I going to fix that? I mean, how are WE going to fix that? I know you said you've never attempted a no-sugar diet.
-Switch to honey first. Ween yourself off the processed stuff. Nothing artificial.
-You're not the greatest example of a dietitian. Look at that blubber. Plus I already pay you $300 a week to...
-Why don't you respond to my texts like you used to? There's something bothering you.
-Nah.
-I'm going to find out what it is.
-Sure ya' are... sure ya' are.
-Have you thought about your retirement options? It's never too early to be thinking along those lines. Just my opinion.
-OK. Hey... you're not a very strong closer. Are you?
-Sure I am.
-Not really though. I've never witnessed that skill set put to practice though.
-You don't understand my business.
-Sure I do. What's the difference between a prospect, an interviewer, and a buyer?
-A prospect IS a buyer.
-That's the Machiavellian answer. Good. What does that mean?
-If every prospect I talked to didn't buy from me, I did something wrong in the sales process.
-Don't punish yourself like that. Your closing averages aren't that bad... I'm pushing you though.
-I'm not punishing myself. I just don't take 'no's very seriously. When someone says 'no' before they even know what I'm presenting, it's really the short answer for 'know' K-N-O-dubbya - if I can't get past the greeting, they'll never trust me.
-No argument.
-You're such a breadwinner.
-I'm going to assume you're not just scoffing there - trying to help ya.
-I was.
//The Electric Toothbrush That Wasn't a Toothbrush//
[Two Houses Down, 7.2 hours later]
(AKA: The Disappearing Pellet Phone Tap p.14)
-How's about them sparkly used fake birthday cake candles leftover from Valentines? We could just put them in some half priced roasted chickens from the Bi-Los? Huh? Yeah that's it we'll slather it in a shit ton of BBQ sauce. Mmm hmm. Yep. That's the way to do it. That way it's a dinner and desert all in one. No Popsicle's or Furly Bars. Spit. These are going in the trash can mister. Got it? Sit! They can have some more of it later on for desert then. Mmm hmm. Just add more BBQ sauce - that simple. Is that your key swee-pea? Hmm? Don'y you swallow that, cause remember, I got them stale catfood coupons in the dresser for Patches. Here kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty!!! Why don't you put your top back on and run upstairs and grab 'em for daddy? I'm sorry baby whadju say? Don't want to forget to use them before they expire. Hmm? Oh, just polishin' up the ol' bb gun. Ain't she pretty? Well ain't those cute now princess? Yep. Hang on a sec SIT! What did I tell you? Bend over. BEND OVER! How many times have I told you not to touch that? Don't you look at me like that. Stop crying. Be a man. Hey how much sugar you feed these little rugrats tonight? Oh yeah, her almost twenty years. Maybe more. Well he don't like guns. That's what I'm... well hell yeah I'm a little worried. Did you give the boy lipstick to play with? You can't be doing that and expect them to grow up normally. We'll talk about it after you get home. When's quittin' time? Ok. Can you grab us a Little Caesars on the way home? Boys won't eat anything else. Well borrow five bucks from Crystal then. I'll give you the five back tonight. I sold some stuff today baby. Yep. Ok. Yep. Love you too baby doll. Bye.
The caffeine wasn't keeping the gang awake so much as it was alive. One six ounce of knock-off Maxwell House from the church foyer used to induce back flips and a jog to the arcade down the street. Now four industrial sized pots of mucky espresso merely suggest lazy, clammy thoughts at two in the afternoon like, 'Do I have the energy to come out of hibernation for the new burrito at Taco Bell? That sounds like something I'd really like to munch on,' and whatnot. They needed to start taking better care of themselves. Plain and simple. More cardio and sit-ups would help. Friends? More likes contacts. No more tales about church van interiors completely covered in claustrophobia inducing carpet, driving three hours at four in the morning from smoky youth group bowling trips. Non-smoking? Are you fucking kidding me? Let's try Nicotine or Extra-Nicotine breathing sections. This is the early 80's mindu - and while we're at it I'll take five non-kosher natural casing hot dogs wrapped in Steakumm's and bacon and dipped in nacho cheese please! Deep fried? No. Sprinkled in warm pixie dust. YES DEEP FRIED!! AND THREE COATINGS OF BEER BATTER THIS TIME!!! By the way, my wife needs to know if the air and other foods in your establishment is GMO, Pesticide, Herbicide, Gluten, MSG, Peanut, Spore, Dairy, Artificial Flavor-Color-Sweetener, Fat, and Shellfish, FREE!! Can I speak to your manager? Oh and only one dollop of sour cream on the hot dogs - not two - extra chives thank you. Oh no - not another sales pitch!! Ahhhhh!
DREAM SEQUENCE 89
-Let's make a deal. Do we have a deal?
-Ugh. I think this is all moving just a little too fast for me... I uh...
-Well what's there to think about?
-Nothing. It all makes perfect sense. It just seems a little too good to be true. That's all. I'm just going to have to sleep on it.
-You have exceptional credit. I'm not fudging any figures if that's what you're wondering. Balls in your court.
-No-hey-listen-ha-Harris-you're a phenomenal salesman. Seriously. It's just that major purchases like this - I always give it a good night's sleep. You wouldn't begrudge me that?
-Nah. Dream.
-Tell you what. I'll call you first thing tomorrow. Yay or nay. Fair enough?
-You bet.
END DREAM SEQUENCE
-Go!
-Wait!!
-For what?
-THIS!!
-Oh ok... yeah yeah yeah. What now?
-He's prying it. Patience son.
-Good.
-How much farther till Cooed Springs?
-Not much. Do you feel safe?
-I don't know. Sort of.
-This trip is a total Freudian mess. Are you aware of that? Maybe I should just turn the car around and take you back home. This wasn't a good idea.
-Shut up. You're just baked. Are you crying? This is going to get ugly if you're crying. Put down that mascara and think about your tax issues.
-No. Hey - of topic - you know... New England is alright. This cove lacks seclusion...
-What cove?
-So.
-Well it's pretty touristy.
-It'll work just fine. You don't need to worry about that shit. Your training ain't over anyway. There is still one last step.
-Whatever. It's three more hours to Cape Cod. Wake me if you need me.
-Sure. I'll probably need you to drive on the last stretch. B12 doesn't cut it for me anymore. I'm not worried about it - I just think we can make better time than this - that's all.
-Hey you queef?
-Wait. What?
-That was you. Suck it up.
