Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Help Me, Pfizer! I Need You!*

*Alternative titles: Pharmaceuticals, Your Friends - Phone Call for Eli-Lilly! Eli-Lilly? - Blowjobs for Xanex! Blowjobs for Xanex! - Crazy..It's Just Not For Breakfast Anymore

Questions fielded in the past 24 hours?

Do you love me?

Do you think the POD loves me?

How do you turn on the t.v.?

Is the POD studying?

Do you think the POD is studying?

Where are you going racing again? (The answer is....ATLANTA, MORON! 45 MINUTES AWAY!)

Do you think the POD is going to be okay?

What are you going to do if I die?

Do you have enough money to make it next month?

How are you going to get money?

Shouldn't be working?

Why are you watching this t.v. show?

Does the POD have clean clothes?

Do you love me?

Do you think the POD hates me?

Rinse and repeat.....

For the record, none of the above questions were answered without severe eye rolling and heavy sighing so that Captain Nutty could flashback to my teenage years when I thought she was a moron. Oh my, how times have changed...

Monday, October 24, 2005

Sybil's Got Nothing On Me

So I'm not really ignoring you....I can explain. Captain Nutty is visiting. She swooped into town with the Consort and here she sits (the Consort's visit was just a drive-by - he's already back in Chicago).

I would like to be able to explain a little more clearly what this really means but in true Floyd fashion, I feel compelled to make a numbered list to give you a "feel" (or reach-around as the case may be):

1. I have yet to have a conversation with her that didn't end with her crying.

2. Trying to check my messages while I was out of my home office, I called the "don't ever touch this phone because it is my business phone". Captain Nutty answered with a "Hi baby!". Uber-professional.

3. At the all important parent/teacher conference today with ALL of the POD's teachers, Captain Nutty asked the VERY relevant question...."you do like her, don't you? you think she's okay?". Yep...cause these folks really, really want in on our family dynamic and the fact that the POD seems incapable of doing her homework is somehow tied into whether they like her or not.

4. After asking the above question of these teaching professionals, Captain Nutty promptly burst into tears.

5. After eating half a bowl of soup, Captain Nutty started in on the whole "i'm sooooo full, just stuffed! couldn't eat another bite" while I'm sitting across from her inhaling every last drop as if it's the last supper. Next time, I'm going to ask her to just call me fat and get it over with.

6. As of 5:09 p.m. today, Captain Nutty has asked me exactly 84 times if I think the POD is okay. (Apparently the teachers' opinions weren't enough).

7. When she's not asking about the POD's sanity, she's asking about my budget and "exactly how much money do I need" (let's be clear - she doesn't have the money to help but somehow just NEEDS to know). Not a bad question but considering it's been asked and answered about 9 times, it's starting to wear thin.

8. When not worried about the POD, we must worry about her upcoming knee replacement surgery and what I will do if "she doesn't make it". And then she cries again. And no, I haven't REALLY answered that's a no winner.

9. I have been asked 13 times if I am on some type of medication and when I answer "no", I get "well, shouldn't you be?"


I'm going to the Atlanta race this weekend and my mother will wrap up the 10th day of her soul-destroying visit at that time. I hope to be able to recover enough to be funny again one day but who's to say.....who's to say, my friends.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Cultural Sensitivity Starts At Home

So the POD and I are watching Gilmore Girls when there is a scene involving the slightly prissy conceirge. Thus the following exchange:

POD: "Soooo, he's gay, right?"

Floyd: "No, he's French."

POD: "Oh....I see."

That's me....Floyd....doing just a little something to ease world tension. Vive Le France!

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Oh, My Aching Balls

Okay, so maybe my balls aren't aching since I don't have any but my head is aching big time. I just may have overindulged a weeee bit last night.

Here's what I remember:

1. I was wearing some damn bow-flower-wrapping thingie in my hair. Cause nothing says party like wearing the ribbon off a birthday present - so witty! so fun! so damn dorky!.

2. I felt compelled to take my own picture with said festive ribbon in my hair and text message to friends who were not present at drunken fiasco. Humiliation is nothing if not shared.

3. I saw an old drinking pal from way, way back walk into bar and immediately called the POD to tell her to get her own damn dinner.

4. I asked someone to cut my hair and almost let them do it right then and there with a pair of rusty shears from the bar kitchen.

5. I related the whole "swallow not spit" story to a bar full of strangers. And yes, it's exactly what it sounds like.

6. I agreed to assume custody of a chihuahua named Stewie for an indeterminate amount of time.

7. I began to salivate at the sound of a cocktail shaker making up the world famous Diva shots.

8. I told a cop that I took a baby away from a crack whore. I'm seriously thinking of having that put on my tombstone - "Here lies Floyd, She didn't do shit with her life but once she did take a baby away from a crack whore."

9. I began to wonder exactly how long my dogs could go without food.

And finally, what I'm most proud of ....

10. I had a contest with a guy at the bar to see who could go down the furthest in deep throating a beer bottle...I won.

My parents would be so proud.