Wednesday, November 13, 2002

You Should Marry A Carpenter

JM: Isn't it nice that E. have carpenter husband so can fix her house? You should find handy carpenter man and marry so when you buy house he can fix all up for you.

[Indignantly wanting to retort that I don't need a man to fix up my house for me, while simultaneously having to acknowledge to self that being rather clever when it comes to assembling put-together furniture does not really count as having significant carpentry skills.]

AH: Mom, I'm gay! Remember? Besides, aren't you the one who's always criticizing anybody I've ever dated who's short of a Ph.D. or an M.D. [i.e., 99.9% of everyone I've ever gone out with] as being "ambition-less"? So now you're changing your tune?

JM: Well maybe you not gay. Maybe you just too fat to get man anymore. But maybe you can marry handy carpenter man and he could be very useful for fixing house.

AH: Tell you what. A carpenter son-in-law? Not going to happen. But if it'll make you happy, I'll find a nice handy carpenter woman and marry her, and then you can have a handy carpenter daughter-in-law. What do you think of that?

JM: Don't be stupid. No such thing.

On Dealing With The Fuzz

JM: What's matter with you? You forget to take allergy medicine? Sneezing, sneezing!

AH: I took it, but it's not helping.

JM: Ack! I bet you rubbing nose like crazy in public. Don't do that.

AH: No I'm not.

JM: I don't care even if allergy season, don't ever rub your nose in public because that's the Drug Abuser Salute. If Polico [pronounced pole-ee-ko] see you do that you going to be arrest.

AH: [Laughing] Mom, I'm pretty sure that it's illegal to throw someone in the pokey for rubbing their nose in public . . . there needs to be a little bit of Search, a little bit of Seizure, a couple of warrants . . .

JM: Don't joke about. Not funny. I had nightmare you smoked marijuana and went to jail and then all night long I can't sleep. So when Polico pull up next to you in car make sure don't look at him, otherwise he think you guilty of something and you end up in jail.

On Musical Taste

JM: You have somebody in your house? I can't talk private if somebody there.

AH: Nobody's here . . . I'm just listening to music.

JM: Good grief! I thought what that crazy sound? Woooo woo woo! I thought maybe one of your mongrel cat in heat. What kind crazy music you listen to?

AH: You mean Joni Mitchell???

JM: You too old to listen to that crazy kind music any more. Everybody going to think you a hippy. I don't know what's wrong with you. Junior high time you listen to that Throat Cancer Singer.

AH: You mean Rod Stewart???

JM: I don't know who that is. He keep singing "Do You Think I'm Sexy" but so stupid. Nobody think he sexy . . . I think he have throat cancer.
Posted by Artichoke Heart | 10:23 PM |
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Books by Artichoke Heart
Beyond Heart Mountain
Year of the Snake

Poems by Artichoke Heart
Songs for a Rainy Season
Toothpick Warriors
Snake Wife
Happy Hour
Girl With A Bowl On Her Head

Pillow Book Courtiers Of The
East Wing
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Pillow Book Courtiers Of The
West Wing
Blogroll Me!

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