Hey, kids. Once again it’s time for me to spend a few days at Casa de South. (FYI, if South ever asks you to do something for him, don’t use the words ‘I’ll THINK about it” because the next thing you know, you’ll be flashing truckers while driving southbound to Atlanta on I-95.) The General is hiking it down to the beach for fun, sun and sex. How that differs from his life at home is beyond me, but the man feels he needs a “break”.
I told South I would be glad to update for free, but now that I’m in his condo and I see he has a lock on his refrigerator, he owes me a new URL. I think I’ll make him buy me www.fuckyouyoucheapbastardimhungry.com.
He left me this note magneted to the fridge…how in the world did he know I’d head right for the kitchen?
“Dear Goddess, I know you were worried that you would have nothing to write about for my column, so I’m leaving you a few pointers. First of all, my readers are your average, sensitive guys who love hearing about a woman and her cats. I mean, what’s not to love about silly kitty litter mishaps?” (Wait one minute. Is he being sarcastic to the Goddess of sarcastic?) “Secondly, they’re family oriented guys, too. So feel free to talk ad naseum about your 16 kids. They’ll eat it up. And last but certainly not least, talk about your menstrual cycle or your visits to the gynecologist. In vivid detail if possible. These guys enjoy being knee deep in estrogen.” (He IS being sarcastic!)
“P.S. Because the last time you stayed with me you ate me out of five months worth of groceries,” (Well, well, well. “All rise for Judge Mental”) “I’ve emptied the cupboards and locked the fridge. Enjoy your stay!”
Enjoy my stay?! Enjoy my stay?! Oooooo, he will learn to respect my authoritah!
I used to look forward to staying at Casa de South, but this visit is a drag cuz South posted a list of rules and regulations in every room. My first experience here was the best. When South had no clue that I had a few “bad habits”. When he was still in that generous “my smelly trailer is your smelly trailer” mood. When he was willing to bend over backwards to get someone to do his dirty work. Now he’s all cranky and fussy and picky, and for that I shall slide my naked, sweaty ass across every bit of countertop I can find in his kitchen. We do that up North when we like someone.
Look at the asinine rules I have to put up with:
No loud parties.
(Are there any other kind?)
No one weighing over 500 lbs can lay on my bed.
(Now where the hell does he expect me to sleep?!)
No Alanis Morisette CD’s permitted on the premises.
(Whaaaa? Not even the new one?!)
No eating—especially Moon Pies–in my computer room.
(Nooooo! Not my precious Moon Pies!)
No Ed Powers videos
(As if!)
No drugs or cigarettes
(Hey! I work in America. .I think we all know I can’t afferd to sustain a cigarette or drug habit on my salary. Oops. Never mind. Underneath this rule I see the words “this rule applies to Canadians only.”) Hi, Beater.
Happy birthday to me. This will be the first year I’ve spent my birthday away from home and family. Thanks, South. Thanks a lot. But The General did tell me I didn’t have to write anything today since it’s my birthday. Is he a good mastah or what? Wait a minute. Didn’t I just write an entire—sigh.
Later kids, this Goddess needs food, but once I get settled in, I promise to give you the scoop, the dip and the 411 on South. Whether you want it or not…
