M: I mean, the place was guhrrrrosss. And she’s not even a witch!
*****
MB (Referring to an old Southern gay gentleman, with his soft Georgia accent, wanting to give our friend A a free trip to Germany.): He’s ginger pervy.
*****
MB: Ugh. I had to talk to the ever-oozing Richard.
*****
M (questioning her lesbianism): I mean, it’s not like I played on the college softball team or something!
*****
ME: He is shaped like a garbage bag full of garbage.
*****
Ginger Pervy: I give the old ladies in my building flowers from my garden. I mean, I don’t want to die an ass****.
*****
Troy: YOU try having a geriatric cat.
*****
ME: So how many Spa Girls are there now?
J: Well, uhm, there’s three.
ME: Three?? So Spa Girl 1, Spa Girl 2, Spa Girl 3??
J: Uh-huh.
ME: Oh, Lord. What is wrong with you? Do they know about each other? Do you tell them?
J: No.
ME: You’re a disaster.
J (laughing): No, I’m not!
ME: No. You ARE, Rico Suave. Okay. How old is the oldest one again?
J: 26.
ME: And — let’s review. You’re what? 83?
J (rolls eyes because he always rolls his eyes): 55. And I’m going to Italy soon to find an Italian Spa Girl.
ME: I don’t even know what to say to you anymore. (pause) You’d better have some more coffee then.
“YOU try having a geriatric cat.”
Based on my recent catsitting experience, this conversation probably involved insulin shots and/or cleaning up misdirected pee.
For some reason I love that you censored the word “hole” rather than “ass.”
The garbage bag full of garbage line made me laugh out loud.
Like – as opposed to an EMPTY garbage bag … or a garbage bag full of, oh, shoes, or something. No – it’s full of GARBAGE.
Missy — HAhaha! I didn’t even notice. I am so tired right now.
sheila — I know. Like, what am I saying anymore???
And Kate — Yeah, you nailed it.
Tracey–HA!
It was one of those times I wished I had a blog. . . I walked in the first night to find a note on the table that basically said, “If he dies, we left you a pillowcase on the counter and you can bury him next to his sister in the yard.” Yeah, after that, the family friend (doing the morning feedings) and I were determined for this wobbly dazed cat to be standing there when they got home. And he was! 🙂
Kate – oh, my gosh. I think if I had been in that situation (the note and pillowcase) I would have spent MY OWN DARN MONEY and found a boarding kennel for the critter.
“I’m sorry; I don’t do burials.”
(I had a very bad experience as a young teenager…friends hired me to feed their rabbit. The last day before they were due to get back, I found the rabbit dead in its hutch. I was horrified – thought I had somehow killed it. What they had failed to tell me was just how OLD the rabbit was and that rabbits don’t live all that long. But I’m still kind of scarred by it, and that’s just one reason I don’t keep a pet – the thought of waking up some morning and finding its cold stiff body lying somewhere. Ugh.)
Oh my gosh, Ricki–a similar thing happened to a friend of mine in college who was watching the family pets while her parents & younger brother were away. The worst part was knowing her brother had to find out when he got home.
Trust me–no kennel would have taken Smokey. He’s 16 (or 17 now?) and just really, really frail. I wonder if they would’ve compensated me for the trauma had *it* happened.
Kate and ricki — I’m so freaked out by your stories.
Sadly, I, too, have had horrible petsitting/ pet-owning experiences. First, finding my bunny Hopscotch dead in her cage ON MY 8TH BIRTHDAY. Annnnd, years later, getting in a car accident with my friends’ cat on the passenger seat in a pillowcase — so he wouldn’t be stressed out by the drive. That worked out well.
Awww, that is so sad about your bunny, Tracey.
How did they get the cat into the pillowcase in the first place? Yoko would’ve ripped my arms off!