Ok, normally, when I stay at my sister's apartment on Monday nights, she is here, and not at all at her on-again-off-again campus boyfriend. not tonight.
Ah well. I've been wanting to scrounge through that panty drawer for a long time now. And that box of personal notes and trinkets and forget-me-nots? Consider them read, my darling.
Interesting holiday weekend to report.
There was the usual Thanksgiving halibut, mashed potatoes, gravy and pregnant ladies. And afterward, back in Bangs, well-fed, and lookin' for a fight, we completed the usual plumbing repairs, hanging of drywall and shoveling of bat poo out from the farmhouse attic. But then ... an HGTV-level If Walls Could Talk discovery.
Hey kids! It's a nice healthy stack of Hustlers circa 1978! Although many of the pages were stuck together (likely because of their age) we were able to make out a particularly disturbing series -- "Women as meat" -- involving condiments, and even greater still, a back cover advertisement of a ... (cover your ears, mother)... a do-it yourself home enema ... kit. Complete with naked ladies...plastic bags of poo.
This collection dovetails the erotic housewife novels we found in the barn. What kind of people lived in Bangs? Oh, Shirley and Tarlton Wayne. The 70s must have been mental for you.
Also, we found a book, The Bangs Gang, published by Bangs Publishing, Inc. of Mount Vernon, Ohio. I assume the company is now defunct, as there is no proof of their existence on the Internet. The book is a collection of short-story ramblings that make absolutely no sense, but otherwise looks professional. I'd guess many drugs were involved.
also, don't be caught off guard when flipping between a re-run of The Break-Up and The Chronicles of Narnia -- Starz has a free soft-core porn preview available for Dish subscribers this month.
The thing about nakedness is: sex is not a pretty thing -- even if, and this is rare, the humans involved are in peak physical condition. But that never happens. Most sex happens between two physically imperfects. The guy making your sub at the sandwich shop. The bank teller. The dude in the car rocking out with the bad hairdo. The Wal-Mart cashier. The guy in Borat -- these are the kind of people smearing together, reproducing, etc. Try not to think about it.
gross.
Speaking of panties, something happened at work last week to spawn the following list of Recommended Steps When a Male Co-worker Discovers That Misshapen Piece of Paper on the Floor Next to Your Desk is Actually Some Sort of Girly Product that has Somehow Loosed Itself from Your Purse:
1. Determine if the male grew up with any sisters in the home. If the answer is no, you're screwed. Skip to step No. 5. 2. Don't immediately pick up the item and shamefully hide it. Let it sit for a moment. Let the moment sink in. Let the moment breathe. Like the commercials with the panty liner and the bouncing red dot. 3. Acknowledging your embarrassment before you make a move toward the floor. 4. Reassure the man that everything is ok, and that such products will not spoil him in any way. Explain the female reproductive cycle, if a dry erase board is available. 5. Giggle uncontrollably for three hours (days?) every time you think about it.
Here's to life in the newsroom's Estrogen Circle, buddy. The year 2000. Sub the flasks and the typewriters for colorful drapes and chocolates. You knew what you were getting into when you sat down.
happy christmas (war is over): January 2005 edition
I was Googling something today when theteet.blogspot.com appeared as a #4 reference. Nothing makes mama prouder ... except perhaps a google alert that links me here ... but anyway, one thing led to another, and I ended up at this post, which was written a.) six months into my first marriage, and b.) nine months into my career as an over-educated barista and c.) moments before I stopped taking birth control pills i.e, stopped crying myself to sleep, stopped crying along with daytime television, started showering again, etc.
Pills that screw with my hormones make me bat shit crazy, and also make Seth go "What am I doing to this poor woman?" (I still like to quote him.)
I also had recently purchased a hedgehog. (wtf?)
Click this link for a taste of insanity. Otherwise, it's just for me.
"The magician will try to wrangle free from a spinning three-ringed gyroscope -- at 40 feet above ground -- in three days' time starting Tuesday. If he succeeds, he'll take 100 families on a Target shopping spree..." -People.com on David Blaine
Also, for the record, Seth "does not care" how good -- or bad -- Brittany Spears looks on celebrity gossip Web sites. What a loser.
There's something really intimate about watching someone cry in the car next to you at a stop light. But don't make eye contact. There is nothing you can do through the pane of glass. I promise.
It's been several days sans an update, so I'm not sure where to go from here. It's been so good already. Plus, Tuesday nights are never good for me.
If you'd ask me about my weekend, I'd tell you it was awesome. There was pig-riding and gun-shooting at halftime. Local papers report all at the Horseshoe were green with envy. I'm still eating the leftover spinach-artichoke dip, reveling in the fact that Jen and I are a better shot than Garth, etc.
Many thanks to the creme de la creme who showed Saturday to enjoy the bonfire. But more importantly, thanks for not judging me about the s'mores. I'm just glad that for one night, I didn't have to make them on the broiler. Special kudos to those who stayed to help move heavy water storage tanks. You know who you are.
There is a weird thing happening now with Seth's new table saw. Maybel is afraid of every piece of wood cut on that thing. It makes things difficult when Seth walks in the living room to brag about his most recent project, because Maybel snarls and growls and shakes her big jowls at his handywork. Can't be good for anybody's self esteem.
Everybody is sad about Kramer.
But seriously, what is Sean Cueller up to on the fox news tonight? Is it really the best idea to give her props?
::::i wish i could show you pictures of both. My sister-in-law/marathon runner is tall and skinny, but a very cute and comfortable preggos. You know when little boys blow up balloons on their heads? Kinda like that, only with more acting up. The good news is that once again, I'm pretty sure I'm the only Teter woman who hasn't gotten herself knocked up. Don't think I didn't notice when you ordered decaf, mother of Jacob.
Bats, traffic violations, escaped pigs and a malfunctioning check valve. ::::things seth dealt with while i attended seven meetings.
Three, one, one. ::::times i've put my foot in my mouth at work, times i've had my balls busted this week, and the number of people i want to murder. (collectively, they are the digits for the city's code violation hotline!!)
A moment ago. Sweet Lord Never. Any moment now. ::::maybel drew blood while playing the "No Corners" game with seth (in her defense, she was 'safesies' on base). i'll climb mount everest for a docu-drama. i'll end this ridiculous format.
Seriously though, why in the hell would anyone want to CLIMB in the COLD for an EXPEDITION. I'm thisclose to adding it to my list of pet peeves. FYI -- When I'm 40, I'm going to be very unpleasant to hang around.
So here we are in Knox County. In Bangs. Days away from the greatest game ever to be played in the history of college football. With no running water for the next 20 minutes (See check valve mentioned above.)
If we win by more than 14 points, I'm going to be so pissed. Unlike true football fans, I long for the days circa 2002 where we OT'd every game -- whether Wolverines or Bearcats -- and came out on top. Every time. Do you know how good that feels?That's the kind of football I like. Consistency only in pulling it out of your ass as the last-minute. I peed a little just thinking about it.
But alas, this is a sleeper year (remember that time we only won by 14?!?) and if I don't get a good game on Saturday, if this is just a Texas Two...so help me, Troy Smith...
*this was a post saved only in draft form during last night's drunken stupor. that's the ebb and flow of the blog world, baby. sometimes we at theteet.blogspot.com have a lot more to say than usual. keep on livin' the dream, would ya?
Excluding a two-hour nap, I've been up for 23 hours, and my boss bought the drinks tonight, so there's your disclaimer.
A co-worker and I spent election night with the conservative party, and I'm happy to report that we saved 3 unborn children, sent 9 Borns to war, and prevented two and a half gay marriages. You know the drill.
Highlights include accidentally wandering into the DeWine press conference, noticing the free half-cans of soda (a whopping $3.50 at the cash bar, I heard) at an inopportune time, and interrupting the whole thing with my cell phone's ring tone number 3, unfortunately.
Nobody said it was easy.
As our newspaper's hand-picked Special Ops team, we went 0 for 7 tracking down missing Republican candidates. But! There will be other elections, we were victims of a wave of hostility that swept the nation, etc. Your message was clear to us, Victorious Republicans Holed Up In Your Hotel Rooms, and I can assure that two years from now, we'll come back fighting.
Consequently, you'd think you could ask 6 people if they've seen Kevin Bacon, and someone would have known something.
The only good that came of the whole show was an abbreviated history lesson of Frankie Goes to Hollywood, which had been playing loudly in the background by a deejay for certain county commissioner, who sported a tight t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a skull-and-crossbones belt buckle. (the deejay, not the commissioner.)
Somehow I managed to become really depressed on the ride back to work. You know who you are.
And later that night at the Hot Spot Tavern, while co-workers karaoked away my worries, I heard one of us had been hitting on a set of drag queens, which never helps.
Fresh perspectives at a critical point in the war, unadopted puppies, eternal bonds broken, solo Oompa Loompas...A lot of opportunity for the democrats to make a real difference in our nation today.
1. People who mention mundane things they did in Europe in order to bring up the fact that they've been to Europe. 2. People who believe blame Jews, even partially, for the crucifixion of Jesus. 3. Hands-free cell phones 4. Totalitarianism
TheTeet.blogspot.com Helping you to lead a better life.
dedicated to the memory of my friendship with miss wray
Welp, I trampled over a few souls on the way there, but I made it into the Daily Show taping set to air in T-minus 53 minutes.
First, let me start by saying that in order to attend, I stole a press pass from the rightful reporter. Her coverage area is Columbus. Mine is an inner-ring suburb. The only thing going for me was that I procrastinated for about 40 seconds less than her on a Tuesday. For this I will be judged. I'm glad the Lord wasn't testing me, as I fear I ultimately may have done much worse.
First of all, because of some haphazard timing, I sat in the front row. Total prime stalker position. I sat right in the crack between the teleprompter cameras, meaning repeated eye contact with the television host was unavoidable.
I sat close enough to notice that his lips move along with the lines of his correspondents. Creepy. He conducts along enough to suggest he controls every detail at practice. and he also laughs the hardest out of anyone, but that might have just been the mic.
And second, I got to ask a question.
The instructions at the beginning of the show were clear. Jon likes to interact with his audience, they say, but please do not ask him to (she reads from a list) hug you, marry you, give you a high-five ... and do not ask him for a lock of hair. (She said nothing, ladies, about impregnation.) (It's for the species, people ...I mean, if he doesn't water the seed, some other schmo will...)
So there were a few rounds of q & a, and the people with the most political t-shirts were asking the worst questions.
"do you cover election fraud" and "can we go to Buckeye Doughnut after this" being examples of wasted opportunity for audience participation.
Facts worth mentioning are: 1. jon stewart's kids were Super Nate and a baby kangaroo for Halloween. 2. his most difficult guest was Jimmy Carter, because he was totally wasted for the whole interview. 3. he will not wish your girlfriend happy birthday just so you can get laid later that night. 4. he doesn't give two shits about Mary Jo Kilroy, but he appreciates the campaign ad with her friendly neighbors telling the audience "trust me, she's great!"
While the show was winding down, and we were waiting for satellite hook-up for Mr. Stephen Colbert, he took a few more questions, and I got the last one.
I asked if he wouldn't mind reenacting the death scene from The Faculty while we waited.
He spun around in his chair a bit and says "yeah, let me just do that for you really quick," and then he hung his head and played with the pen for a moment. "You mean the one where I stab the pencil into my eye?" he asks. "That's the one," I say. "Let me tell you something about movie magic," he says, and proceeds with a story about baking soda, a toy army soldier and a balloon....he faded off when the producer informed him that unfortunately, there was no Steven Colbert this evening.
After the show, some kid in a corduroy jacket said "nice question."
He still doesn't trust us, but we might not be as easy to mock in public as he thought. We're too nice. It makes him uneasy. We eat too much, and the "O-H" "I-O" thing was visibly irritating to him and his trainers.
I heard three crew members at the VIP tent say "no, we haven't made it out to Easton yet."
Stewart informed us that he ate at Martinis. A student suggested Buckeye Doughnut. Everyone hated that kid.
The best thing about Ohio?
The bathrooms are easily accessible from the studio.
Name: Seth
Alias: Teth Seter or Steter.
In Brief: The Steter in his natural habitat. Married to theteet.blogspot.com since August 2004. Often the victim of serious hyperbole. Handy.
Hates: Noise, Dominion Homes, above-the-nipple touching, when people get 'handsy.'
Loves: pies (of any kind), dirt, smoking a pipe after eating pie. also, cows.
Name: Maybel
Alias: The Pig or Boobles.
In Brief: Kentucky-born English Bulldog since February 2006.
Hates: Watermelon. All other kinds of melon. The sound of a new trash bag being opened and sitting in the back seat.
Loves: Treats, walks, Charlie, 'humping it out' and barfing.
Name: Amanda
Alias: The Sister.
In Brief: theteet's younger (but larger) sister. Survived a brain bleed in February 2007.
Hates: minor inconveniences that make her blurt out uncontrollably, brain bleeds.
Loves: UFC, cornhole, texting, fast food and her dog Charlie.
Name: mom and dad.
Alias: the 'rents.
In Brief: Ashland natives and frequent visitors. They taught me how to swear.
Hates: hospitals.
Loves: squirrels and lattes.
Name: Mae
Alias: Klingler or Maddog.
In Brief: Cincinnati resident and former college/Old Towne East roommate. Once wrote a song that made theteet cry.
Hates: Hate.
Loves: Jesus, family, puns, guitars and gardening.
Name: Colleen
Alias: Crankin and Rankin.
In Brief: Akron resident and former college roomie. Arguably more handy than Seth. Nice bosom for hugging.
Hates: all drivers.
Loves: beer, coffee, cigarettes and boys we all find strange.
Name: Talya
Alias: Strader and Sweet T.
In Brief: Chicago resident and former college roomie. served brief stint at theteet's 'accountability partner.' collects monthly fee for keeping quiet.
Hates: people who do not comment on her blog.
Loves: social justice, eggs, her boyfriend monsterbeard and the occupation of barista.
Name: Chris
Alias: Christopher, Monsterbeard and Nadine.
In Brief: Chicago resident and college buddy. Maker of 'We once waited up in the dark with a gun,' and other misadventures.
Hates: people who are looking the other way.
Loves: history, film, his girlfriend Strader and acronyms.
Name: pdawg.
Alias: none needed.
In Brief: Former co-worker who is willing to eat waffles with theteet at 4 in the morning regardless of level of snow emergency.
Hates: anyone under the age of 35.
Loves: Hostess pies, old man rants and golf.
Name: Linsly.
Alias: MERLIN, lin or newbie.
In Brief: Former co-worker who lived with us for a week. I can tell this kid anything. He's like a brother.
Hates: sexual predators.
Loves: zombies, guns, porch chats and movie quotes.
Name: jaydubs.
Alias: jwray and 10bagspacking.
In Brief: Co-worker who taught me everything I know about the world.
Hates: mean jokes, mushrooms, clipping fingernails in the office.
Loves: crafts, her gay-together but also betrothed person Kyle, Columbus Bride Magazine, veggie-friendliness and basil.
Name: jessica.
Alias: jessm.
In Brief: College buddy with the amazing handshake. I believe she might be back from Alaska and living in Hudson now.
Hates: poverty.
Loves: Jesus, jazz, geography and hilarious t-shirts.
Name: brittiny.
Alias: Brit-Brat, experimental dater or The Dunlap.
In Brief: Former co-worker (notice a theme here?) who started with me at SNP on the same day. Former Sorority president taught me the ropes of being a lady. her wisdom did not take.
Hates: visible pany line.
Loves: cocktails, shoes, 'the blue box' and her boyfriend the Lizard.
Name: garth and jen.
Alias: not safe around house plants and the real spider-man and/or HSnothingswronghere.
In Brief: Co-worker couple who proved themselves fun at work and on the farm. Periodically forced to kiss in gas station parking lots.
Hates: local broadcast news reporters.
Loves: zombies, movie quotes, Indianapolis and lin rice.
Name: Angie.
Alias: captain cool.
In Brief: Former co-worker who stole my heart. She is the only thing I've ever lost to the Youngstown Vindicator.
Hates: joe and misogynists.
Loves: celebrity gossip, hilarious captions, biking/hiking, her boyfriend Jef, her mom and Columbus.
Name: Melville.
Alias: welcome to earf or bad town.
In Brief: Former co-worker who let me inherit his seat at SNP. For a while, he was the only one who would talk Reynoldsburg politics with me.
Hates: fleas, eminent domain and people who flip the bird.
Loves: his evil cat, running, opinions, beer and Tom Waits.
Name: The Gerish.
Alias: The Gerish.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, you'll see a tousle of black hair breeze by over the cubicle wall.
Hates: Things that aren't crackers.
Loves: crackers.
Name: Dennis.
Alias: secret reading.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, he'll walk over and talk to you. But he probably won't. Once took my sister-in-law to Homecoming.
Hates: The damn kids who walk in his yard.
Loves: Corgis, Cedar Point and Rachael. But not the one you're thinking of.
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