Cat’s Bare Bones Story

This story was generated from Cat's random list of: red notebook, baby alive, sims 2, blue pen, cellphone, purple bus, twisties, rubber gloves, coffee

Surrender is not an option… I may have to kill my manny

Salivating at the sight of a twisties truck is never a good sign.

Giving up cigarettes was hard enough. Giving up the fake orange cheesy goodness of twisties had been murder.

If Sam takes one more thing from me "for the good of the baby" I swear I'll strangle him with the pair of rubber gloves that he keeps under the sink to protect his soft girly hands when he's scrubbing the oven.

My lovely wife Kelli, mother of our beloved and absolutely perfect and gifted two month old daughter, had her heart set on keeping our manny, but by god, I was here first and a man should feel comfortable in his own home.

Being bossed by the baby watcher hadn't been in my game plan when we talked about the joys of parenting.

I mean, the LOOKS I get just for having coffee. You'd think that I was mainlining heroin or something.

Just because Kelli is breast feeding Hannah why does Sam think that I have to give up caffeine too? Kelli was never a caffeine addict and it had been easy for her to kick coffee and tea. She even said that she may not go back to having caffeine after she weaned the baby.

Blasphemy!

I have been drinking coffee since I was a teen and going without coffee in the morning is not an option I want to live with.

Without a java jump start I could easily wander out into traffic and not even notice a giant purple bus bearing down on me.

I know this for a fact, because yesterday when I ventured out sans coffee to buy a baby alive doll for our beautiful daughter after Sam had "accidentally" thrown out all of my coffee beans, I stepped off the curb and almost got hit by a double decker.

The only reason that I'm not dead is Russell. Russell, with his tiny spectacles, constant conversation about the Sims and Sims 2, his wild mop of curly hair and his non stop noting of every bird he sees in his red notebook.

The red notebook that he carries everywhere, and can ONLY be notated into with a blue pen.

Russell saw me in the crosswalk with the bus bearing down on me and shoved me clear of the collision.

His cell phone was the only casualty. It tumbled out of his shirt pocket and was squashed under the wheels of the bus as they went round and round.

I promptly took him to a kiosk and bought him a new one.

He was most appreciative and we spent the next couple of hours talking and drinking coffee.

I found out that he was gay, new in the city and had only come out in the last couple of months.

He was looking for a steady relationship with someone who had a good idea of who they were, and where life was taking them.

A take charge kind of guy.

I think that Russell and Sam may be a match made in heaven.

I've invited Russell to tea on Sunday.

If Sam starts getting laid on a regular basis maybe he'll loosen up and allow coffee and twisties back into the house.

Then maybe I'll stop having daydreams about murdering him in his sleep.

It is remotely possible that I'll get used to going without coffee.

But I really miss those cheesy orange bastards.

 

A word from our sponsors

Dear Minions,

I am sorry to say that there is not a new Ten Questions Tuesday this week.

I am busy this Tuesday being probed by aliens (the ones studying human funny bones) so I didn't hook up a new tQt.

I'll be beaming up to the alien space ship for a couple of days to help them with their experiments.

Come back for a new tQt next week when I will have the pleasure of presenting a tQt with author Brett Battles.

You'll enjoy Brett's tQt.

Brett is funny and pithy while discussing Death strolling the streets of California and Manny Ramirez trying to kill him, then he goes on to talk about alternative uses for black socks and cyanide. Oh yeah, we talk about his books a little bit too.

So, since I'm not here for our regular tQt date, feel free to take tuesday to peruse things that you haven't already read on the blog.

And until Wednesday when I will be posting a new bare bones story……

Look at the pretty frog.

Wishful Thinking

When I came out of the post office yesterday there were four cars just like mine parked in a row.

Four.

I had to actually look for my license plate to find the right vehicle.

That wouldn't happen if I owned this gorgeous piece of man made art.

If I had this beautiful ride I'd always know which machine was mine.

Straddling this huge vibrating hunk of machinery, I'd spend blissful hours tooling the open road.

Stopping only occasionally to eat something, lay in the grass, or look at the world's largest ball of string.

It's been a long time since I've ridden.

I rode with a friend in high school. He had a huge bike. He was also the calmest person I've ever known in my life.

Wrapping my front to his back in a two hour hug and watching the scenery flow by was some of the most zen time I ever had in my teens.

Well, except for that time we rode through that giant swarm of grasshoppers.

That wasn't very zen.
It was very green, very sticky, very smelly and led to the immediate addition of a face shield to my helmet. But the next time we rode, it was zen again.

P.S. Big thanks to the guys in Willoughby who let me photograph their gorgeous bikes.
P.P.S. there's a bonus to the photo of the awesome bike dials…a little robot face hiding in plain sight.