Gnawing on It

I will try to make this as smooth a transition, as possible.  Course, I say that, but when traveling with two, four-legged, friends, the opposite is typically the case.  The getting into the car, packing up the dogs, bringing treats, a leash, etc.  If by chance a leash or two, is forgotten?  A belt is always worn that can double as a ‘in case of emergency’ tether.

Pretty much, where I go, the dogs go.  Unless extreme weather gives the finger to keeping dogs in too hot a car.  Or, meteorologists imply that the current not habitable cold temperatures would not be good for chasing the great outdoors.

Other than the above mentioned, bad form temperature intensities, my friends are with me always!

When we evolve from Home Sweet, Home to New Hampshire’s vast rural nation?  It can be quite an undertaking.  As many writers do, I have an imagination that could be deemed a lethal weapon.  And, of a restless nature, my need to get up an go, can be almost as frightening.

Hour upon weary hour with Bogie and Mattie; I have developed their character analysis.  But with a twist.  Who were these lovely creatures in a former life?

Mattie, the hound mix, is no less than an eloquent expression of canine grace.  Having been abused before I met her. She has developed an edge.  Pretty simple stuff…She does not like; unspayed female dogs, over bearing male dogs, loud noises, quick movements, her little brother (Bogie) on occasion.

She is a Georgia Peach on steroids mixed with the aloofness of a Wallflower and lightly salted with all the athleticism of her great ancestors.  She is serious as shit!  No comedy!  No jokes!  Just cut to the chase and show her some love.

Bogie, a Beabull!  Is an anomaly!  Part beagle, he insists that he can hold his own out in the great north woods.  Part bulldog, he cannot hold his own.  And, is what many would call, delusional, in thinking he was ‘all that and a bag of chips!’

I refer, on exceptionally long trips, to Mattie as, Big Pat!

sword 1

Along the same lines of road monotony…Bogie is referred to as, Little Dot!

Big Pat and Little Dot were/are members of a backwoods bowling team.  They are the only ones on the team.  No one else feels comfortable playing with them.

Big Pat, in my fantastical mind, wears a polyester shit with an emblem.  The emblem displays bowling pins falling here and there.  Underneath the neon thread?  Her name: Big Pat.

Big Pat does not have a last name!  She listens to such music as; Black Sabbath, Joan Jett and when feeling soft inside…Led Zepplin.

Big Pat does not really like Little Dot.  She does for the first five minutes they are in the lanes.  After that, with the chaos and comedy, Big Pat pops a Pabst Blue Ribbon.  She is often spoken to about bringing open containers into ‘Your Balls in the Way Bowl-a-rama.’  Usually, the owners back off after Big Pat admonishes a switch blade.  And/or, worse case scenario, Big Pat will threaten to expose her left breast.

Unbelievable, but true, Big Pat is tough as nails and a beauty!

Little Dot had done the comedy circuit at Salisbury Beach.  She even branched out to Revere Beach.  And, Chinatown in Boston.  Her career never took off after the ‘incident.’

Little Dot had been spotted by Boston PD…peeing two miles from a playground.  The arrest would certainly have done her stand-up career…in.  She took a plea agreement.  So, now besides, bowling with Big Pat.  Little Dot volunteers at the Home for Wayward Aspiring Comics.

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She currently is in charge of the Bingo games on Wednesday afternoons.  Happy with the gig.  Little Dot has had the pleasure of meeting such greats as; David Spade, Pee Wee Herman and Jackie Gleason’s son.

Little Dot is in actuality, rather round.  Most of her stand-up routine consists of physical jokes.  Walking and falling.  Talking and chewing gum.  And, on rare moments, hurling her Humpty Dumpty frame…into the crowd.

Little Dot had been raised in an orphanage north of Boston.  Unfortunately, they stacked the beds from floor to ceiling.  Last or…first, one on the totem-pole?  Little Dot got the bottom bunk and received a life debilitating injury.  Having been stuck beneath many other larger than life…tots!  The circulation to both her brain and limbs became severed!  Little Dot, though, as adorable as a ferret, is slow on the uptake.  And, stopped growing after the age of one!

Little Dot doesn’t mind that Big Pat seems confused about her sexuality.  After all, Little Dot experimented down at the local shelter…back in her youth.

Big Pat, appreciates Little Dot, for her open mind.  Just the mere fact that Little Dot, will make-out one week and have an out an out brawl…the next?  Makes Big Pat want to keep Little Dot around.

Little Dot and Big Pat have been ‘friends’ for a lifetime or so.  Often, after a heated big ball game, the two will sit in the back of Pat’s remodeled school bus.  Discussing such things as;

Why squat to pee?

Why does hand size matter?

How to kill a person with one bite to the jugular

Where Little Dot could find one of those cute little ‘dog collars’ made of leather with spikes on it?

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I love Little Dot and Big Pat.  Never one to think too much about someone’s past.  Or, someone’s future…I’m uncertain about the idea of dying and coming back in another form.  That the gods decided to make all of us…cats, dogs, humans, etc., live life over and over again, until we get it right.

I am certain that Mattie and Bogie; the not so comic but funny as shit, duo, were professional bowlers in a past life!

the Angry Lesbian: editorial edition

We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.
We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.

The following is a true story:

As the day drew to an agonizing end…that is, I had finished walking the dogs x 2, walking parent’s dog x 1, blowing the leaves in their ‘country’ setting home, picking up their trash…

That I later take to my town dump, pick threw it and conquer and divide, materials…recycling, reuse, repugnant!

At the end of the end of my day…a call,

You’ll never believe what I just did

Rather than agonizing you the reader with blow by blow description of said phone call.  One that I took illegally…as I had been driving.

I will tell you the truth as I know it.  And, as I also know, my spouse has long since given up reading my blog and, therefore, I will not be found out!

My life’s partner…my best friend with strange benefits…threw out the stove burners.  Not the covers, that we had just replaced.  Not the inserts that ensure no particles fall into crevices of the great beyond.  Which, by the way, were just recently purchased.

She tossed the actually one and only parts that allow for cooking on a stove-top!

She did however, bake cupcakes, in between…said demise!

Bear with me…I have taken pain killers an am prone to rants and off the cuff remarks…currently.

My spouse, bless her domesticated soul, has begun taking the big marital step called, ‘cooking’.

Some of us can do it.  And, for some of us, it is like getting a license at the age of 30.  We should just have thrown that particular towel in and taken cabs for the rest of our lives.

I think there should be an Angry Lesbian beer.  Yup, that was my thought, after hanging up the phone and attempting to process the how, what and/or wtf, of my partner’s need to clean the stove so thoroughly, parts and particles get tossed out in the mayhem.

This Angry Lesbian beer should be the following:

I don’t ever want to drink again
I just, oh, I just need a friend

Read more: Amy Winehouse – Rehab Lyrics 

Edgy

Coarse

with

a touch of anti-freeze,

as an all natural sweetener.

The anti freeze should not be enough to kill.  Just enough to deter.

The Angry Lesbian beer should smell like patchouli.  Being dark in nature, somewhat nutty!

Which by the way?  What on earth do we refer to the male privates as a pair of ‘nuts’?  It has been awhile but I am sure things haven’t changed that much.  Those ugly things look nothing like any nut I have put in my mouth!

You will soon see how this may or may not go together.

Upon arriving home…

Instead of, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  Too bad it was dump day!

I got

‘Boy, you handled that much better than you used to!’

This is where the Angry Beer comes in.  This is where the ‘I hate myself for loving you..’

comes in!

This is where the guilty lesbian…you guessed it, comes in!

I get the leaving on tampon in the box routine…that is typical of a married lesbian couple.

I get the using the last razor…without buying new ones, situation that I sometimes find myself in.

I even understand

‘I haven’t had a chance to wear that shirt yet!  Please don’t get anything on it!  You know how messy you can be!’

Of course, no one goes out of their way to soil themselves.  Unless they are in a home for stupid people.  And, that fuckin’ shirt had been hanging in the closet for 3 months.  And, that fuckin’ shirt, had been mine originally, I just let her believe she bought it!

We had been asked once by the girlfriend of my spouse’s father…who happens to be very correct and very in tune with strife.  She is a family lawyer!

‘So, will you refer to Megan as, your spouse, your partner or your wife?’

This a question given to me after the combining of one Irish family with another Irish family and making one big Fat Lesbian Wedding!

My first thought than.  My one thought now.  WTF?  Does that really matter?  Most of the time…I just nod in her direction!

I have never been politically correct and I suppose, it is too late to start now!

What gives with the mythology of the Angry Lesbian?

I hate to tell the world.  Only Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls are really angry for no apparent reason.  The rest of us…have plenty of Lifetime movie moments, true and sincere, to which there should be some righteous anger!

In ending, the ‘I Hate Myself for Loving You’ story?  The other time where the need to make an Angry Lesbian beer…came to mind?

After having driven all day and all night just to get from New Hampshire to some alley way in Baltimore;

“I wanna walk but I run back to you…I hate myself for loving you…”

Came banging on the MP3 player.  Jokingly, I said, “I love this song!  It reminds me of you.  Kind of a twisted love song!”

The rest of the journey?  Silent!  All 1100 miles of it.

Someone please invent an

Angry Lesbian beer!

The price for burner inserts?  For a stove that was a double for the stove on the set of the Brady Bunch?  Approximately, $32.00 x four!

Dollar value for love?  Priceless!

Can't break free from the things that you do!
Can’t break free from the things that you do!

My Cat? She Played Me!

We all want their Zen…We all want their prowlness…We all want their leisure time…

What are we gonna do about it?

Break into the favorite Cat top ten downloads:

10.  No cat wants to tell their owner the obvious but this song tells it like it is…when having to live with a human-

Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze.
I got a big fat mama trying to break me.
And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.

-Sunny Afternoon, the Kinks

  1. If we really listened to what their bodies told us…

Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I’m going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won’t mean a thing

-Bitch, Meredith Brooks

  1. I’ve tried to talk to my cat about the use and abuse of catnip but the response is always this-

Well I laid out in the afternoon I start to nappin’
You walk into the room with them jaws a-flappin’

-You Talk Too Much, George Thorogood

  1. Crazy Cat Ladies everywhere no the day will come when…
She is frequently kind  And she's suddenly cruel  She can do as she pleases  She's nobody's fool
She is frequently kind
And she’s suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She’s nobody’s fool

Every now and then
I get a little bit terrified
But then I see the look in your eyes…turn around bright eyes

Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there’s only love in the dark

-Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler

  1. How does a cat love their owner…truly?

Though you say you’re my friend, I’m at my wits end You say your love is bona fide

But that don’t coincide with the things that you do

And when I ask you to be nice, you say

You gotta be Cruel to be kind

-Cruel to be Kind, Nick Lowe

she never gives out  And she never gives in  She just changes her mind
she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
  1. Ask any cat about their politics and you’ll get the same response everytime-

Never said I wanted to improve my station
An’ I’m only doin’ good when I’m havin’ fun
An’ I don’t have to please no one

An’ I don’t give a damn ’bout my bad reputation

-Bad Reputation, Joan Jett

  1. Cat-cam?  Going on a Stay-ca-tion with the Tabby?  Is my cat really that upset when I leave for work?  Does she ever think about me?

I found your letter in my mailbox today You were just checkin’ if I was okay And if I miss you, well, you know what they say…

Just once… in a very blue moon

-Once in a Very Blue Moon, Nancy Griffith

got cat class and got cat style!
got cat class and got cat style!
  1. Sometimes my cat looks right through me…and it scares me.

I hope them cigarettes are gonna make you cough
Hope you hear this song and it pissed you off
I take that back I hope you’re doing fine
And if I had a dollar I might give you ninety-nine.

-Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong, the Spin Doctors

  1. Cats are just like women in teeny, tiny fur coats…and like the rest of us they just want..

Ain’t gonna do you wrong

’cause I don’t wanna

All I’m askin’
Is for a little respect when you come home

-Respect, Aretha Franklin

  1. I just adopted my cat and she runs in the opposite direction when I try to grab her from behind and force her to give me love…I just want to know what she wants and needs!

I wanna be by myself
I came in this world alone
Me myself I
Me myself I
Me myself and I
Just me myself I

-Me Myself I, Joan Armatrading

Dear Ms. Thing…

…you’re so vain, I bet you think this

blogs about you!

-RandomwordbyRuth

neuter...it does a body good!
neuter…it does a body good!

Cat Fighting…the right way!

‘the future’s uncertain and the end is always near.’

-Jim Morrison

Grabbing for me with her eyes Now I'm falling from her skies... -the Guess Who
Grabbing for me with her eyes
Now I’m falling from her skies…
-the Guess Who

Today, I had been asked a very poignant question, from Cher:

Do you believe in life after love?’

I suppose it would be no different than:

The unexamined life is not worth living…

The two quotes are eerily similar!

Cher posed the meaning of existence to me whilst I began my ascent into the driver’s seat of my car. My partner had used it last. And, there were many painful signs supporting this statement.

  1. I banged my knees on the dash

  2. Celine Dion had been lulling me with some sticky love song

  3. There had been pistachio shells on the floor, a full ashtray and a bottle of Minute Maid lemonade, half full, where I usually put my coffee cup.

Often times I feel that ‘lesbian’ relationships deserve far more than just a stamp of approval from the government and a thumbs up from Justice of the Peace.

They, we, I, should be awarded the medal of honor for arguments fought in the line of duty between two women.

Let us face it. It is far more intimate when two women have ‘discussions’, than a man and a woman. Points of interests that can be brought about? Toileting habits can be used as weapons when in a cat fight. How one dresses to go out to shovel snow…is a hot topic and often tossed about like a comment grenade when there are two women discussing the etiquette of borrowing your partner’s car.

Back in the day, in the last century and before, gay was the way. I pretended to be straight. It had been the only time I had lived alone. I grew pot plants in my closet and half jokingly, held onto a not true love…named, Nathan.

Nathan stole changed from car washing coin machines for a living.

Nathan was low maintenance in the relationship department. A sort of mental midget when it came to ‘fighting the good fight’ while being involved with someone.

Nathan would be dumb founded if the following ever came about;

‘Are you planning on going out like that? Did I tell you what Steve Harvey said? He said, couples should have a date night every week. Dr. Phil has a new book out…can we order one? I know you just got up…but this is important to me’

ON and ON and ON!

Of course during a sincere cat fight…My favorite quote:

You know what’s wrong with me!’

In our household we do not have fights! We have discussions! We do not offer suggestions. We leave literature on how to fix the ‘other’ on the coffee table!

The car situation…Cher blaring instead of AC/DC. Seat pulled up so a toddler could drive it..The purging oneself of all the junk food in the world and depositing it on the floor…All occurs approximately two or three times a week.

The new and improved discussion, however, renewal of my spouse’s license three months early…She states,

‘I just don’t want to forget about it. You know how the state is. How many times do you think I can have the picture taken…My picture always comes out like I’m a cast member for the movie Annie.’

She, the wife, however, does not know the answer to:

Gee, I don’t know…Speaking of which, when was the last time you checked your oil?’

Just a few short, simple, sentences have become a week long discussion. A week of no eye contact. Seven days of, we just don’t see things the same anymore…

An eternity of not putting the cap back on the toothpaste and choosing not to spoon in bed.

The thing is…with two women, we know all the tricks and continue to try top one another.

About two years ago, my spouse had to go take care of her ‘nothing wrong with me’ Mother. I had been left to my own devices and allowed myself to stew in my own shit.

Soon, after the second day, when it was obvious I would not fair well on my own. I began arguing with the cats and dogs.

Soon, after the third day, the cats began talking back…Shit like, ‘bitch, you know we don’t eat pate’!’ And, on the fifth day? I turned to Vic’s vapor-rub as a source of comfort. There is something about the smell of eucalyptus that brings back memories of the good old days…when another woman coddled my every need..That woman being, my Mother. I slathered myself from head to toe…over a little sneeze from the night before.

I did all this and than, I pondered the question;

Do you believe in life after love?

Sittin’ in my own shit without my big girl panties on coated in a Vaseline substance and over a bowl of Captain Crunch...I knew the answer to the question…but had not wanted to give up the ghost…just yet!

On day six,I called the spouse.

‘When are you going to come home? I’m having to do laundry down in the basement, get out of the shower naked and go downstairs to get my outfit. What’s the point in bringing the clothes back up? They just go back down again…And, what about your cats? How often does the box get changed again? Did I ask you when are you coming home? I’ll let you drive my car!’

This simple phone call turned into my inability to take care of myself and my urge to be dependent on women…

Well, DUH, I’m a lesbian…Had been my response!

I believe the conversation abruptly stopped with…

…and take your skinny ass back to 1976! To the room with a life-size Ms. Piggy on the wall. Take all that and your dogs and go back to Mommy!

Cat vs. Cat…women on women…there just is no fair fight. It is the epitome of hair pulling. The hair being short hairs. The pulling being emotional distance.

The last time I went home to Mommy and Daddy to share my last discussion…my last difference of opinion with my wife…

A little advice, not coddling, had been handed out:

Learn to pick your battles…sweetie…Learn to pick your battles!

Today, when getting into my car and a lollipop stick had been stuck to the passenger seat…I put my metaphysical blinders on, faced forward, put the car in drive and popped Joan Jett’s ‘I hate myself for lovin’ you’ into the ancient CD player…

So you tell me,

Do you believe in life after love?

Tell me girls, Do you really believe in life after love?