View from a grassy knoll

3:59 p.m. Cookin' up a batch of shit talkin' pie, or, Joanie loves Chachi, 2K 2003-04-07

Reaped can you say, only an hour left at work?
i think we all can.
blah. now it's time to pontificate.
there's a problem with being told things you're not allowed to tell anyone else. because you want to. in fact, someone tells me something, and the first thing i wanna do is run over & spill it to crab. one of the driving forces behind our relationship is gossip-mongering. which may be related to war-mongering & news-mongering, in that it's pieces of information that must be dissected into minutiae until the original loses all meaning but everyone feels real good about giving their meaningless personal opinion about it. In some circles, this is called post-modernity. We call it 'talking shit'.
So let's talk some shit. Can you see the delicate line I'm walking? What if some person from my non-dland life reads this & it gets back to the Source? In this case, it may be a good thing, but I will catch hell for it. Whatever. Not like my big mouth hasn't done that before. In high school nobody would tell me anything. I'd like to think I've learned, but c'mon. Even so, for the purposes of this story we'll call the main players Joanie & Chachi. But really it's just that other couple I'm always talking about in here. Y'know, cos we're all attached at the hip and shit.
So I'm talking to Joanie on the phone the other night. She's having a sick day, "headsick" as she calls it. Meaning her meds are fucking with her emotions & she will see no humans but her boyfriend. This doesn't stop her from having a phone conversation though.
"You know why I've been acting all wierd these couple weeks?" she asks.
"Hmmm?" I hadn't really noticed it.
Joanie is always acting somewhat wierd.
"Well, I kinda thought I was pregnant. I was late, and since I'd been on birth control so long I'd kinda lost track of when I was supposed to start and all that stuff. Then my BOOBS started getting bigger."
"OHMIGOD Joanie! No shit! Did you get a test?"
"Well I had some, but then didn't do it because I didn't know my cycle, and I knew it could give a false result if any type of anything was off balance."
"And what did Chachi say?"
"Well, I kinda didn't tell him for a couple weeks? 'Cause I wanted to be sure. And you know how you keep things pent up and it just builds and builds until you're convinced everything is wrong & there's no hope?"
"Yeah." I said. "That's bad"
"Yeah. So that happened. And then one day Chachi came home and I'm like 'can I talk to you?' and he's grumpy and is like 'what?' So then I told him I thought I was pregnant and he's like, 'why are you laying this on me right now?'"
"He said WHAT?" This did not sound like the good, caring boyfriend Chachi was supposed to be.
"He was like, 'why are you laying this on me?' I mean, he said we'd take care of it. But my point is that's not what I want to hear when I tell a boyfriend I'm knocked up. I wanna hear, 'Oh you poor thing, here's half the money to get rid of it.'"
"Totally understand Joanie, what a creep," I said. "So how are you guys now?"
"Good, I guess. Like I said I got my period so I know I'm not pregnant. It's just his reaction was so self-centered. 'Why are you laying this on me?' indeed! That was not the type of reaction I expected. And by the way Weez, TELL NO ONE WHAT YOU JUST HEARD. Bye."
"Bye."
And I hung up the phone. Stunned. As this story shows, PHD candidates do not get pregnant accidentally. But they do date assholes, mostly because that's all there is among PHDs. That's why I'm not getting one.
But let's flashforward to this Friday, smoking on Joanie & Chachi's porch. Actually, Crab was. I was inside doing bong hits to the new Zelda. Suffice it to say Joanie spilled not the pg story to Crab, but another, 'we've-broken-up-but-we're-acting-like-we-didn't' story that he tells me on the way home. It's short. Basically Chachi fell off the asshole truck one morning and broke it off with her. I wonder if her uterine crisis had anything to do with it (uh, hell yes? )
Then, watching the Simpsons on Sunday Joanie tells Crab they've "reached a truce". She fails to elaborate. Chachi remains silent on the subject, though he's doing that whole, not-gonna-be-in-the-same-room-with-you thing that couples tend do to when they quarrel. I feel it is Crabs duty to ask Chachi, being they are good friends. However, Crab is a flaming pussy and won't do it. Which leaves me to speculate.
Tomorrow I go with Joanie to the reptile meeting and get my iguana tshirt. The drive leaves ample time for juicy dirt & I'm ready to listen. Then, maybe in August there will be a new sitcom, a spin off of the adventures of goat & crab, one called "Goat & Joanie", except we live in the Crescent City instead of Milwaukee.
Whoa. Sudden bout of light headedness. Is someone trying to tell me something? Like, shut the fuck up about your stoopid friends' drama? Yeah. Whatever. If I didn't listen then you think I'll listen now? Right. Goodnight.

Sown

Fresh Cut
New digs - 2004-05-25
Bachelor hell - 2004-05-10
Grumble - 2004-05-07
Coachella pt. 2, or goddamn do my fingers hurt - 2004-05-05
Coachella part one, or, this monkey's gone to indio rawk heaven - 2004-05-05

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3:59 p.m.	Cookin' up a batch of shit talkin' pie, or, Joanie loves Chachi, 2K	2003-04-07
Reaped	can you say, only an hour left at work? i think we all can. blah. now it's time to pontificate. there's a problem with being told things you're not allowed to tell anyone else. because you want to. in fact, someone tells me something, and the first thing i wanna do is run over & spill it to crab. one of the driving forces behind our relationship is gossip-mongering. which may be related to war-mongering & news-mongering, in that it's pieces of information that must be dissected into minutiae until the original loses all meaning but everyone feels real good about giving their meaningless personal opinion about it. In some circles, this is called post-modernity. We call it 'talking shit'. So let's talk some shit. Can you see the delicate line I'm walking? What if some person from my non-dland life reads this & it gets back to the Source? In this case, it may be a good thing, but I will catch hell for it. Whatever. Not like my big mouth hasn't done that before. In high school nobody would tell me anything. I'd like to think I've learned, but c'mon. Even so, for the purposes of this story we'll call the main players Joanie & Chachi. But really it's just that other couple I'm always talking about in here. Y'know, cos we're all attached at the hip and shit. So I'm talking to Joanie on the phone the other night. She's having a sick day, "headsick" as she calls it. Meaning her meds are fucking with her emotions & she will see no humans but her boyfriend. This doesn't stop her from having a phone conversation though. "You know why I've been acting all wierd these couple weeks?" she asks. "Hmmm?" I hadn't really noticed it. Joanie is always acting somewhat wierd. "Well, I kinda thought I was pregnant. I was late, and since I'd been on birth control so long I'd kinda lost track of when I was supposed to start and all that stuff. Then my BOOBS started getting bigger." "OHMIGOD Joanie! No shit! Did you get a test?" "Well I had some, but then didn't do it because I didn't know my cycle, and I knew it could give a false result if any type of anything was off balance." "And what did Chachi say?" "Well, I kinda didn't tell him for a couple weeks? 'Cause I wanted to be sure. And you know how you keep things pent up and it just builds and builds until you're convinced everything is wrong & there's no hope?" "Yeah." I said. "That's bad" "Yeah. So that happened. And then one day Chachi came home and I'm like 'can I talk to you?' and he's grumpy and is like 'what?' So then I told him I thought I was pregnant and he's like, 'why are you laying this on me right now?'" "He said WHAT?" This did not sound like the good, caring boyfriend Chachi was supposed to be. "He was like, 'why are you laying this on me?' I mean, he said we'd take care of it. But my point is that's not what I want to hear when I tell a boyfriend I'm knocked up. I wanna hear, 'Oh you poor thing, here's half the money to get rid of it.'" "Totally understand Joanie, what a creep," I said. "So how are you guys now?" "Good, I guess. Like I said I got my period so I know I'm not pregnant. It's just his reaction was so self-centered. 'Why are you laying this on me?' indeed! That was not the type of reaction I expected. And by the way Weez, TELL NO ONE WHAT YOU JUST HEARD. Bye." "Bye." And I hung up the phone. Stunned. As this story shows, PHD candidates do not get pregnant accidentally. But they do date assholes, mostly because that's all there is among PHDs. That's why I'm not getting one. But let's flashforward to this Friday, smoking on Joanie & Chachi's porch. Actually, Crab was. I was inside doing bong hits to the new Zelda. Suffice it to say Joanie spilled not the pg story to Crab, but another, 'we've-broken-up-but-we're-acting-like-we-didn't' story that he tells me on the way home. It's short. Basically Chachi fell off the asshole truck one morning and broke it off with her. I wonder if her uterine crisis had anything to do with it (uh, hell yes? ) Then, watching the Simpsons on Sunday Joanie tells Crab they've "reached a truce". She fails to elaborate. Chachi remains silent on the subject, though he's doing that whole, not-gonna-be-in-the-same-room-with-you thing that couples tend do to when they quarrel. I feel it is Crabs duty to ask Chachi, being they are good friends. However, Crab is a flaming pussy and won't do it. Which leaves me to speculate. Tomorrow I go with Joanie to the reptile meeting and get my iguana tshirt. The drive leaves ample time for juicy dirt & I'm ready to listen. Then, maybe in August there will be a new sitcom, a spin off of the adventures of goat & crab, one called "Goat & Joanie", except we live in the Crescent City instead of Milwaukee. Whoa. Sudden bout of light headedness. Is someone trying to tell me something? Like, shut the fuck up about your stoopid friends' drama? Yeah. Whatever. If I didn't listen then you think I'll listen now? Right. Goodnight.	Sown
Fresh Cut New digs - 2004-05-25 Bachelor hell - 2004-05-10 Grumble - 2004-05-07 Coachella pt. 2, or goddamn do my fingers hurt - 2004-05-05 Coachella part one, or, this monkey's gone to indio rawk heaven - 2004-05-05 Random Shearings Rings		Profile Guestbook Mail D-land Older Home 26 Links Bandified Geek Philosopher /. Drudge Worst.Site.Ever.
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