I give you…the Hawaii Chair. I swear I am not making this up. It is not a spoof. It is a real live actual product. I would TOTALLY put this thing through our MockDock Product Testing Department (aka Mockarena) if only we had a skillion jillion dollars to buy it.
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So, I was at another family birthday function. We have several birthday’s around this time of year, which means my grandparents and parents were very, VERY busy around the month of December. Merry Christmas and a ring a ding ding! Anywhoo, our family gathering was separated as usual, men talking about their jobs, sports, cars, and whatever other stereotypical “male” subjects I have not mentioned here. My discussion group consisted of Grandma Aufshneider, Mother Aufshneider, my cousin and sisters. Somehow our usual topics of movies and celebrity news took a dark, dark turn. And when I say dark, I mean that the words “Richard Gere” and “gerbils” were brought up. Then there were lots and lots of questions asked…..by Mother Aufshneider. If her reaction to the news that small rodents were used for something besides running on a plastic wheel was not funny enough, my Grandmother then provided me with the best moment of my life. Seriously. This tops them all folks. She said this with the most innocent face, and I quote: “Girls, have any of you gone to the grocery store and been too ashamed to only buy one cucumber? Like you are afraid of what the store clerk might think?” Needless to say, I don’t remember much else of what was said, as my state quickly turned to that of asthmatic-like, tearful laughter. Best. Moment. EVER.
My mother used to make me wear brown, patent leather shoes and hold her hand, as we walked to the Piggly Wiggly for a half gallon of milk and a bag of frozen tater-tots. My friend Wilton’s mother used to make him wear an apron and wipe down the counters after every meal. My friend Brent’s ma used to make him hold her purse while she shopped for those old lady undergarments that look like bathing suits from the 1920s.
But never once did any of us have to give our mom a full body massage and tie her bikini top back on after she attempted to brown her alabaster flesh. This kid has no chance of not being a hair stylist, that is if he doesn’t become an interior designer first.
It has been said that you should never record yourself in the throes of passion. When I was a child, I often was left in the back of my parent’s Chevy Nova to fend for myself, eating melted crayons from a cigar box. It was one hot, August evening, as my mom went in to the store for some Benson & Hedges, that I developed my love for Led Zeppelin.
As that fire-yellow El Camino rolled up beside me and pulled in to the parking spot, I heard the glorious bellow of Mr. Plant. The opening wail of “The Immigrant Song” poured from the T-tops of that cuck (or trar) and bouyed my spirits in such a way that I knew I could hold on to my consciousness long enough for my mom to return and take me home to the comfort of my piss-stained mattress and my comic books.
As an grown-up, though now I have never been able to gain all that my parents gave me, I find myself sitting alone, very alone, eating Chef Boyardee from the can and fantasizing about the good olde days, when life was simpler and hotter and crayon-ier… this is my tribute.
STINKHORN
Mutinus elegans
These distinctive mushrooms have a single, unbranched, erect stalk, sometimes gaudily colored, leading to Linnaeus aptly placing them in a genus he called Phallus . The stalk is slimy, especially toward the tip, where the spores are concentrated. The mushroom spreads its spores, which are present in the slime, by attracting flies and other creatures that like decaying flesh. The slime sticks to the insects, which then transport the spores.
The Butt
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