Santa never meant it to be this way!
A few days ago my mother, oh so new to San Francisco culture, called me. She wanted to let me know that she had purchased some organic egg nog. The next day she told me:
“They just don’t know how to make egg nog over here in California!”
She then explained that the nog was far more syrupy and thick than she was used to. Not knowing much of anything about egg nog, I asked her if it tasted good. She gave me a vague sort of answer implying that whiskey helped it. And, that she would serve some to us on Santa Day.
Come Santa Day — me and B sat at her table and she pulled out her carton of egg nog and exclaimed that she wanted us to try some true Bay Area Organic Egg Nog.
I turned and watched as she opend the carton and started to “pour” us a glass.
Tho, I do not know from egg nog — as soon as I saw this vomit-looking substance slither from the carton like some odd mix of jello, cement and regurgiated carots into her pristine Xmas glass I backed away from her table and exclaimed:
“Oh, Mom! That is not right!”
B was equally shocked, but a bit more calm and explained to her that the contents of her egg nog carton were clearly expired and asked how she was feeling.
She looked at us blankly, then said she felt fine but had only had two glasses.
I took the carton and the expiration date read: “Jan 2008” —- I had to leave the room to escape the odor. I guess the whiskey not only aided the flavor but saved her from the emergency room.
She called the independent store from which she had purchased the disgusting egg nog. They already knew all about this issue and asked her to just come in and they would take care of her. I hope that doesn’t mean that they will force her to drink more of it!
Just think if she had left that out for Santa?!?!?!
love and kisses,
Well, I went with my mother to the SF DMV to hang with her while she took care of her car registration and the like. We were there for quite some time. After about an hour I needed to pee quite urgently. Not wanting to use the DMV facilities, I opted to simply walk across the street to the park where I felt I could easily find a secluded place to relieve myself and not feel like I had contracted something odd from a public can.
I stroll’d thru the park till I came upon a bush that seemed just perfect. I step’d inside the grassy enclosure, unzip’d and started my bizness.
What a relief!
…And, then IT happened. a cute pug dog nearly ran into my mid-stream. I scolded him, but he simply sat looking up at me as my body drained.
…And, then, “Baxter’s” owner appeared a few feet infront of me.
“Oh, Baxter! What have you gotten up to! Hi! Well, when ya need to go ya need to go, right?”
She had to be in her early to mid-twenties and had no problem staring at me as I peed. I could not stop. I had been waiting to go for so long!
Awkward. I had to say something.
“Yeah, well. Yeah. Um, could you turn around. Really sorry about this.”
“Oh, no problem. But, no. I mean, man, if you’re going to take it out and pee in the park I should be able to watch.”
“Oh. Well, actually, if you could just turn around I’ll be done.”
“So, nice cock.”
Oh boy, this is getting weird. Well, what else is new?!?!?
“Um, thanks. Listen, I’m almost done and —”
“How big is it erect?”
“Sorry? Uh, I mean. Look, I don’t know. I just really needed to pee.”
“I’m betting about seven inches.”
I’ve never measured. I don’t know.”
I am trying to stop the urine but with no luck. I’m full and draining for “Baxter” and her owner. I am humiliated!
“Gay or straight?”
“Definitely seven inches. Gay dudes always have bigger cocks that straight guys. Sadly.”
At last! I’m done! I quickly zip it up.
“Well, I’ve never heard that before. Ok. Sorry about that. I’ve got to get back to the DMV. My mother is waiting for me.
“Wow! You are gay! My boyfriend won’t do that sort of thing for his mother. I always end up having to do that stuff for him. Tho, we no longer let her drive.”
“OK, well, I gotta go now.”
“My name is ‘X’!”
“Hi. Take care.”
I begin to make my way to the sidewalk in attempt to find both my bearings and my dignity which I had just pissed away.
“Hey! What’s your name? Maybe I’ll see you around again!”
“Matty. Nice to meet you!”
“Same here, Matty. If I had needed to go I would have had you hold on to “Baxter” for me while I peed. You could have watched.”
“Oh, ok. Bye now.”
I ran back to the DMV. When I told my mother of my holiday mis-adventure she laughed and said, “Only in this city! That’s what you get for peeing in a public space! Shame on you!”
i’ve been admiring this little work of art for some time now. yesterday, while walking polk street with my mother, we ventured into the magical little store and it was marked on sale for half off.
she bought it for me.
it makes me smile.
…i wonder if the doll’s head grows when water is added. maybe i better just feed it diet coke.