By request - pictures
But first, a little tale of idyllic California-
I needed quarters for laundry, so I walked down to the convenience store. On the corner across from the store was a group of guys dressed nattily in white tank tops (ok, some were shirtless) taking turns domestic abusing a woman. I didn't want to attract any attention, so I duck inside the store to call the cops. Once I'm inside, though, I immediately encounter a guy who is obviously meth-d to the gills, yet is still buying a gigantic bottle of malt liquor and two bottles of Cisco (for those of you not familiar with the finer points of bum wine, it's also known as 'liquid crack'). He's talking the ear off the poor guy behind the counter, but when he notices me standing there, he tears into how "lucky your boyfriend must be - or girlfriend, because you can't tell these days". He's just repeating it over and over. Well, nobody ever said meth heads were engaging conversationalists. Bored and freaked out, I left the store, but my new friend felt that I obviously didn't yet understand how lucky my hypothetical boyfriend -or girlfriend, because you can't tell these days- is. He follows me out.
Crap- now it's a fucking tough choice. I've got domestic abusers on my left, meth heads on my right, I'm stuck in the middle with you and I STILL don't have any quarters. As luck would have it, I didn't have to decide because the meth-head was actually buying the Cisco for the domestic abusers, and when they moved in to collect the goods, I made a run for it. All I could think, though, as I walked away is, "dude, the convenience store has Cisco! I was wondering where I could get that!"
Lest you think I was hanging out in a bad neighborhood, I was only a block from the university campus and right around the corner from the quaint bed-and-breakfast district.
I hate this town so very, very much.
Anyway, here are the pictures:
This is my plant, which, like 99% of my belongings, I picked up off the curb. I've named the garden gnome "Gnomey McGnomerton". He's my only friend in this stupid town, and is also eerily phallic.
This is my backyard. It's ok, but I think it would be better if I had some Cisco.
I needed quarters for laundry, so I walked down to the convenience store. On the corner across from the store was a group of guys dressed nattily in white tank tops (ok, some were shirtless) taking turns domestic abusing a woman. I didn't want to attract any attention, so I duck inside the store to call the cops. Once I'm inside, though, I immediately encounter a guy who is obviously meth-d to the gills, yet is still buying a gigantic bottle of malt liquor and two bottles of Cisco (for those of you not familiar with the finer points of bum wine, it's also known as 'liquid crack'). He's talking the ear off the poor guy behind the counter, but when he notices me standing there, he tears into how "lucky your boyfriend must be - or girlfriend, because you can't tell these days". He's just repeating it over and over. Well, nobody ever said meth heads were engaging conversationalists. Bored and freaked out, I left the store, but my new friend felt that I obviously didn't yet understand how lucky my hypothetical boyfriend -or girlfriend, because you can't tell these days- is. He follows me out.
Crap- now it's a fucking tough choice. I've got domestic abusers on my left, meth heads on my right, I'm stuck in the middle with you and I STILL don't have any quarters. As luck would have it, I didn't have to decide because the meth-head was actually buying the Cisco for the domestic abusers, and when they moved in to collect the goods, I made a run for it. All I could think, though, as I walked away is, "dude, the convenience store has Cisco! I was wondering where I could get that!"
Lest you think I was hanging out in a bad neighborhood, I was only a block from the university campus and right around the corner from the quaint bed-and-breakfast district.
I hate this town so very, very much.
Anyway, here are the pictures:
This is my plant, which, like 99% of my belongings, I picked up off the curb. I've named the garden gnome "Gnomey McGnomerton". He's my only friend in this stupid town, and is also eerily phallic.
This is my backyard. It's ok, but I think it would be better if I had some Cisco.
posted by La Blonde Parisienne at 11:52 PM
2 Comments:
I want a gnome like that.
Dude, what's up with the domestic violence? Did you call the cops or just give up after that?
You can have your very own Gnomey McGnomerton garden statue and drinking buddy at Ikea for $3.50.
I actually ended up not calling the cops. By the time the beverages were distributed the woman was hanging off of one of the guys. I decided to just get out of there.
p
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