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butterflies do flutter by

At Boheme today ….. some of my favorite gay guys, raving about, uhm, periods and bras:

GUY 1: Oh, Gawd. Why was Rosie O’Donnell talking about PMS today?

GUY 2: Ew. I know. I was freaking OWWT.

GUY 3: Yeah. Why do women think we want to hear that, Tracey??

They all turn towards me.

ME: Well, uhh —

GUY 2: Yeah. Like my sister? She’s got these really big bo*obs. And she’s always talking about them, about her big stupid bo*ob problems. To ME. And I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT. T. M. I.

GUY 3: Oh, yeah. I know. Like when my mom (ed.: she’s about 75) was here — she left one of her bras in my guest bed. And I found it! Ugh! I was so freaked out. And she called me and she’s all, “Daaaave, I can’t find my brrraaa! My good butterfly brrraaa! (he flutters his arms, a butterfly) Will you look for it? It’s the only white one I have! If I don’t have that one, all I have are a bunch of black ones!”

GUYS 1 & 2: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

GUY 3: I know. I know! My mom. In a black bra. My mind just shut down. So I tell her, “Yeah, Mom. I already found it, your butterfly bra (flutters his arms again). It was in the bed.” So she goes, “Oh, good! Will you send it to me overnight? I neeed it!” I can’t BElieve I’m going to the post office to overnight my mom some stupid $70 butterfly bra!

I was too busy wiping the tears of laughter off my face to say anything at all.

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the barry gibb breakdown

Okay. Since I basically know every Bee Gees’ song ever, I’m going to actually do a breakdown of tonight’s performances.

Melinda — We love her. Singing “Love You Inside and Out.” Uhm, dear heart? Not great. Some of these Bee Gee songs are just meant to be sung falsetto. That’s all there is to it. I don’t know how else to explain it. You need to tread lightly with certian Bee Gees’ songs. Literally. They had this lush lightness from their combined falsettoes that just isn’t easily shaken or forgotten. So — full voice here, just …. didn’a work.

Blake — Singing “You Should Be Dancing.” Okay. Well, I do like your hair darker. So keep that. The beatboxing? Thought it was too much Mork from Ork. But that’s me. Na-a-A-a-A-nu-u-U-u-U Na-a-a-a-nuuu-U-u-U-u-U-u-UUU.

La Kisha — Singing “Stayin’ Alive.” Okay. Look. All you guys — you final four — should be picking other Bee Gees’ songs. Not such megahits. Barry Gibb — the dude can write a song, so there’s a lot to choose from. How ’bout “Words” or “Fanny” or “How Can you Mend a Broken Heart” or “Love Me, Please” or something else? Not these. Not these iconically FALSETTO songs sung full-throttle gospel choir voice. No. Nope. Sorry, babe.

Jordin — Singing “To Love Somebody.” Okay. This one has a chance. I’m so rooting for her in this. Waaaait for it. Ooooh. She mixed it up, riffed it a bit. It was good. Really good. That one worked. They give her the love, all three of ’em.

Just an aside here. A helpful list of songs not to pick, kiddos, because I think I can turn back time and make you change your minds:

Night Fever
Jive Talkin’
Tragedy
Nights on Broadway

Round 2

Melinda again — “How Can You Mend …” Okay. Now watch. She’ll nail it. This song will work. Betcha. And see? Great. Told ya. They love her on this one.

(Wow. You know, this is really a stellar review. I am on FIRE! Things like “Nope” and “Betcha” and “Told ya.” Don’t be stealing my quotes!)

Blake — Singing “This is Where I Came In.” Oh, Barry. I love you. Just sit there in those white pants forever, please, but I do not like this song. Maybe they’ll like his modern take. And his argyle sweater. And the omnipresent beatboxing. The whole thing was truly deeply weird-O. But I still like his hair.

Commercial break where I predict what La Kisha will sing: Ummm, she’ll do “Words.” Let’s see if I’m right.

I’m not. Drat.

La Kisha — Singing “Run to Me.” But she can do this one. I think. Okay. Uh. Seemed all right to me. Again, a heavier voice just doesn’t work on some of these. Mostly my problem with her is, well, I am always aware of her totally extreme boobins. The way they track the camera. Like the way The Mona Lisa tracks people who stand in front of her and it’s all eerie. And I say this as a woman with large boobins myself. However, there are boobins and then, there are BOOOOBins. You know? I know you know.

Hm. I sense yet another post getting slightly away from me.

Okay. So.

Jordin — Singing “A Woman in Love.” She’s gonna be amazing, I think. Let’s see. Listen, shall we? She’s had some crackles here and there and I’m not sure — uhm, is she pitchy? Still, it’s dramatic in a sort of “Oh, Lord, what’s gonna happen?” sort of way. A little out of her range, I think. Beautiful dress. She so purty. Randy said, “Pitchy.” Told ya. Poorla said, “You’re beautiful.” Told ya. She’s had the best night, definitely.

Okay, well, I’m done here, thankfully, and really …. “it’s only words and words are all I have … to fill a blank blog paaaage!”

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oh, I am bawling!

From “Dancing with the Stars.” Seriously. I’m hopeless.

But … Laila Ali just danced the waltz tonight in front of her dad, Muhammed Ali, and paused, mid-dance, right in front of him, and blew him a kiss. And his face, his face! It’s got a certain blankness from the Parkinson’s, but in that moment, her reaching to him with such tenderness — oh! I am telling you! — there was no denying that look on his face. Pure pride. Pure joy in her. Pure love. How I wish I would have been taping that, just to play that tiny moment again and again and again. I am bawling. So beautiful.

I felt something just soar inside me.

Oh, lovely lovely love.

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the line that killed “grey’s anatomy” for me

Random new character in LA (played by Tim Daly) because, what, part of the show is in LA now??:

I’m gonna kiss you. I’m gonna kiss you with tongue. I’m gonna kiss you so you feel it.

Eww, you moron. Just DO it. Don’t announce it.

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ah, witches!

My born-again Christian lesbian customer, M, who has her own cleaning business, continued her vicious tirade against witches’ houses today. She is just over them. I wish you could actually hear her diatribes, though. They are even more hysterical because of this dry downward deadpan she has. I cannot tell you how much I absolutely love this woman.

So today she came in, toddling in her ducky bike shoes, chainsmoking and gearing up for her big healthy bike ride. And she was just pissed OFF about witches again:

“Okay. So. There is just no way for me to tell you how horrible this witch’s house was. I mean, it was just brutally filthy. SO gross. I swear it’s like these witches become ONE with the dirt or something from all their woodsy demon rituals. You go into their houses and it is just filthy crappy pigginess. So this last witch? I go in there and I just want to DIE from the horror of it all. It is like a junkyard of evil. And she has this dresser and it’s covered with these little plastic bugs and little plastic dinosuars. And they are gross. So dirrrrty. Like, there is just mung everywhere. You know mung? Just disgusting MUNNNG. And you know how theses witches are — how they arrange things in certain positions as entry points for power? Well, I’m standing there in a freakin’ panic from the mung, putting on my gloves and scrubbing each individual plastic wing on these gross filthy bugs. And then it dawned on me, like, what the hell am I doing?? But I cleaned them because I couldn’t stop, but I didn’t know exactly where everything went when I was done because there’s literally just crap everywhere, so I just arranged them all nice, you know? So she came home and — let me tell ya — it was just a devvvastating moment for the witch. She was instantly all pissed off because I rearranged her devil arrangement or whatever. Like, just trying to clean her filth, I ruined her connection with evil or something. And that was IT. She was having a fit about plastic bugs and I was just done with her. This horrible old witch who’s dating some 25-year-old guy, by the way ….. and what the hell is HE doing?? Seriously. Hanging out with her. In THAT house. Having filthy mungy witch sex. Dear God. It’s the trauma of it. I am totally retraumatized. All that filthy filthy mung.”

And I was howling. Literally crying. I just could not take the word “mung” being uttered one more time. But then again, I wanted her to say it again and again and again. Mung. Mung. Mungy. I was howling so loudly that the Overlord came over from his deli and said, all tight and disapproving, “Um, I can totally hear you laughing.”

Dude, one word: MUNNNG.

I dare you not to laugh.

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there are …. developments

Well, I knew it would happen, I just didn’t think it would be so soon.

I have become a conjoined twin.

The reflection in the steam pitcher doesn’t lie. I got a gander at myself this morning after making Big Norm’s latte and that’s when it became clear. My newly conjoined status. My looming head head. You know, I think it was nice that Norm didn’t comment about it. That all he said was, “Oh, such nice foam!” That he didn’t inquire about the identical human head growing upside down on top of my regular head. He’s a sensitive guy, that Big Norm.

MB, however, started immediately snapping pictures, all proud and excited about the latest addition to the family. Someone else to talk to! Maybe someone better! Just someone who speaks English, for Lord’s sake! Stuff like that.

Unfortunately, I did not share his elation. Neither did my head head. See how glum we are upon learning of the other’s existence? Right after this shot, I downed, like, 137 Ibuprofen.

conjoined2.jpg

A few frames later, though, with a little encouraging patter from MB like look at you! so much taller! and hey! no more bad hair days, and well, men won’t stare at your boobs now we lightened up a bit, embracing our cross-eyed double-headed future together.

conjoinedt1.jpg

Now, let’s not get ugly here. Keep your jealousy to yourselves, please.

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“scribbling and bibbling”

American Idol Scribblings:

Simon Cowell is not wearing a tight black T-shirt? A white shirt unbuttoned a bit to show chest hair? And his arm casually draped around Poorla’s chair? So …. so … what … what does this mean?

LaKisha — Why so angrrrry all the time? Ugh. Don’t like you. Booo-bye.

Blake — Your eyes are dead. Like a shark’s. Deaddeaddead.

Nosferatu — You continue to horrify. Back to zombie town, please. Booo-bye.

Melinda — Watch out for Jordin. She could snatch this out from under you.

Yoyoyo! I worked very hard on this post. Show it some love, dawg. I did my thang.

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potty mouth

I got the idea for the questionnaire below when the girl in the restroom stall next to me was jabbering loudly on her cell phone — in the moment. The tinkly little moment. Over the sound of the tinkly little moment. This seemed kinda … weird to me. I felt weird. I lost my concentration. I fretted and continue to fret: I mean, is that what people do now? Am I behind on yet another 21st century development? I don’t have cable. I don’t play video games. I only recently got a cell phone. And I don’t even know how to access my voice mail, so I certainly lack the requisite preparedness to use the stupid cell phone whilst indisposed. But now that I have a cell phone, is this expected of me? De rigeur? I’m confused. And frankly, scared.

So I have to know. I must know many things about your personal p*otty stuff that you don’t want to share. Too bad. Grow up. This is serious p*otty.

Sooo … Ready? Here we go.

Tracey’s Serious P*otty Survey:

1) So DO you talk on your cell phone whist indisposed in a public restroom? Not before, not after. In flagrante delicto.

2) In an empty public restroom, do you take the first available stall/urinal or make sure there’s space between you and any potential restroom interloper?

3) T/F: Automatic flushing toilets are scary.

4) Tell me the truth: I worry that the sensor thingie on those automatic flushing toilets is really a camera taking secret pictures of me.

5) Women: Sit or Hover? Well, men you can answer this too. Don’t be shy or anything.

6) T/F: Tissue paper seat covers don’t protect you from anything.

7) Women: Wait to start your process until someone flushes, giving you “cover”?

8) Talk to strangers in the restroom?

9) Talk to strangers in the restroom whilst indisposed?

10) There is no toilet paper. So I use__________________.

11) Is it just me, or do those tissue paper seat covers NEVER flush properly?

12) There is no soap. So I_____________________________.

13) Women, T/F: I have used the men’s room when the wait for the ladies’ room was too long.

14) Women: Are you familiar with p*ee cakes? If yes, please describe one without help from a man.

15) Men: Are you supposed to aim at the p*ee cake or ignore it? Please enlighten.

16) T/F: If the counter is wet, I always wipe it up.

17) T/F: I won’t use a toilet if the toilet is clean, but the toilet seat cover tissue is floating shredded in the bowl.

18) I will hold it in altogether if the person coming out of the stall looks even slightly mangy or feral. (Good to see I have not editorialized with this questionnaire)

19) I prefer:

A) The old-style faucets that I turn on/off.
B) The new-fangled motion detector dealios.

20) Moms, I will take into the ladies’ room with me:

A) My daughter
B) My son
C) Both

21) Dads, I will take into the men’s room with me:

A) My daughter
B) My son
C) Both

22) Women: Adjust your makeup in the mirror?

23) Men: Adjust your makeup in the mirror?

24) T/F: I touch the door knob with my bare hand when leaving the restroom.

25) If F, what do you use to open the door?

Thank you for taking Tracey’s Serious P*otty Survey!
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