Instaweek

Since the written word continues to fail me (and because the wise and talented Mama Kat told me to), I have selected a series of (unremarkable) Instagram photos that represent highlights of the past week. What is remarkable is the fact that it took me five pathetic years to figure out how to add multiple images in a given post.

Special thanks to the lovely C. Migs; the high-larious real live author Choi Division; my super-sharp Duane Reade umbrella; Keith; Jan and Lew; the kindly waitstaff at the Waverly Inn; the bartender at Arthur’s; my SIL Christine; Delman shoes; and Citizens of Humanity.

Please see below and don’t hesitate to get in touch should you have any questions about Sr. Cojones. I know I sure as hell do.

Advertisements
Instaweek

But Can You Do THIS?

What the WHAT? Two blog posts in a mere nine days?! That’s right peeps. At Mama Kat’s prompting, I have created and shall now share a list of 10 random and totally useful things I know how to do. Don’t be intimidated.

One: At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, I can sit Indian-style, then stand and walk on my pretzel-ed knees. How not at all creepy! Editor’s Update: My sister, Jamie, has informed me that the proper, 21st-century term for the position I’m describing above is “criss-cross applesauce.” 

Well hullo there, Millard
Well hullo there, Millard

Two: Since buck-toothed third grade, when I accidentally memorized a poster Mrs. Snow hung on our classroom wall, I have been able to name all U.S. presidents in order of appearance. Millard Fillmore is my favorite name on the list.

Three: I can read the Russian and Hebrew alphabets (sort of). Nyet, I do not understand what I’m reading.

Four: Call it trivial, but I can identify the innards of any chocolate from a Russell Stover assortment. Trust me, you’ll appreciate it when I save you from picking the weird strawberry nougat.

Five: Along those lines, I am a dessert sommelier. Tell me your entree and I will tell you the complementary confection.

Six: In just a few minutes, I can compose an “alphabetical poem.” What in THE hell is an alphabetical poem, you may be asking? I will tell you. Or should I say, “Ah. Be calm.” It is a poem whose first word starts with an A, second with a B, third with a C, and so on through Z. You can see one example of my freakdom at the end of this post about Conan O’Brien.

Seven: I cannot address the physics involved, but it’s somehow possible to bake chicken in a brown bag without burning down your apartment. I learned how to do this in Philadelphia, when the very feisty Lil – whom I refer to as “the Unsinkable Molly Brown” – came to visit Dave and Rob from Oklahoma. Note: the brown bag can’t have any ink on it, unless you like colored chicken and scrubbing your oven.

Eight: I am excellent at recognizing B-list actors (aka “the guy from …/the chick from …”) or former child stars in supporting TV roles. Usually, they’re playing suspects on Law & Order and judges on The Good Wife.

Nine: If you are having a conversation remotely within my hearing range, I’m listening. Even if I appear to be deeply engrossed in my own.  I call it a throw-back to my days as an enterprising young journalist. Keith calls it proof that I’m nosy.

From left: Horsie, Rodney, Milty and Piggy
From left: Horsie, Rodney, Milty and Piggy

Ten: Upon adopting a new stuffed animal, I’m able to immediately sense and start channeling his/her personality and voice. Come to my abode and I will introduce you to Milty the nervous, nearsighted moose who communicates by nodding, shaking or scratching his bulbous head.  There’s also Rodney, the alcoholic reindeer; Horsie, the Texan womanizer who fears being washed in a pillowcase, as his tag suggests; and of course Piggy, the innocent little swine who never quite gets her words right. She thinks investment bankers get a “Jonas” every year (Nick, Joe …) and that The Letter T is a “clog.”

Once again, may thanks to Mama Kat for her continued inspiration and motivation. 

But Can You Do THIS?

Quick Post 2: The Stuffed Menagerie

Milty is an actual chocolate moose.

Per the request of my very first non-family member fan, I would like to take a few moments to introduce the stuffed moose I have referenced several times in this blog.  Pictured at left is Milty, who is a Mary Meyer Flip Flop — described on one web site as “extremely relaxed animals.” Roughly seven years ago, after a tasty lobster roll at a hole in the wall in southern Maine — Sloth and I paid a visit to the adjacent gift shop. There, among the tacky shot glasses, aprons and clambake cookbooks, was Milty. Once I saw his bulbous mandible, floppy limbs, green and white bow tie and sad little eyes, I knew he was coming home with me.  I have a special place in my heart for this particular moose because he’s very quiet and very nervous (“relaxed,” in the description above, refers to his apparent lack of spinal cord, not his mental state).  He doesn’t speak.  To convey his thoughts, he flops around at different RPMs, depending on his emotion. He also nods or shakes his head.  When he’s confused, which is often, he scratches right under his antler. He’s also very severely nearsighted. If you have the chance to meet him, you may feel an overwhelming desire to hug him. Even Jan, who has little tolerance for my stuffed menagerie, said this of the moose: “What’s that one’s name? He’s kind of funny.” Milty will be thrilled that you’re interested in providing a loving embrace, of course, but he’ll probably bounce into the wall or a chair en route to you.

Quick Post 2: The Stuffed Menagerie