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Tuesday, March 04, 2003
[ RANDOM BITS III - The One That Just Won't Quit! ]

Here's another installment of my irregular "random bits" column. Some true tales that only add to the "Mythology of Pete" --

= The One About My Pants =

It never fails. Every time somebody knocks on my front door, I'm not wearing pants.

I'd like to say it's because I have an incredibly hot woman waiting in my bed, but I can't. It's just a case of not wearing my pants at that particular moment.

I'll be wearing underwear, but the pants seem to be elsewhere. Resting over a chair. Sitting in the hamper. Hanging out back, having a smoke. Visiting friends. Whatever.

If only we lived in a pantless society, I'd be the cat's meow.

As it is now, I'm just another pantless slob.

= The One About Priests =

At the end of the last two graveside funeral services (Catholic version) I went to, a family member went up to the officiating priest and handed him one-hundred U.S. dollars. In cash or by personal check.

Just so there is no confusion, this payment was not to the church but to the priest himself.

I came to find out this is the regular practice.

See, conducting Mass and hearing confessions is the priest's regular job but funerals are done on a "freelance" basis

So, now, I'm thinking to myself: "I need a job like that. It's sounds like a pretty sweet gig."

My qualifications? I was raised Catholic, so I pretty much know the ropes. I'm a halfway decent public speaker. Also, I like children.

Just to be absolutely clear here, I DON'T like children in ANY sort of sexual way. Not at all. Never. Nada. Zip.

But, I can 'bluff' with the best of them. So, when all the priests are gathered around the rectory water cooler, shooting the holy breeze about the new altar boy, I'll simply make stuff up.

"That boy's got an angelic smile that makes me hot."

Etcetera, etcetera.

I just want to fit in with my priestly, yet pedophilic, pals. I just want to be liked!

Being a decent public speaker and liking kids - plus the fact I'm white - might also qualify me for the position of being Michael Jackson, but I understand that one has been filled. They hired some nut job. Tee-hee!

So, I looked into this priesthood thing.

I knew there was a "Clown College", but I came to find out there's also one for priests.

It is called a "seminary". Is it just me, or does that sound vaguely sexual?

However, years of schooling - so I can talk the God Talk - just isn't for me.

Instead, I registered with the Universal Life Church (ULC) - a non-denominational church - and became a full-fledged minister. It cost nothing and, via the Internet, took only a few minutes to do.

But now I can legally marry people, and conduct funeral services, for anybody who asks.

It'll only cost them $100.

= The One About the 'Sleep Over' =

Some time ago, I was dating this woman Shelley. Things got kind of "spooky" real quick. You know how, when a couple has been together for a while, they start finishing each other's sentences? For us, that was Day Two.

Before things turned ugly.

But that's another story.

This is a sweet story; so let's try to keep it civil, ok?

I invited Shelley over for an old-fashioned "sleep over". You know, like when we were kids.

No hanky-panky involved. Just good, clean fun. Like when we were kids.

When she arrived, I had her take her shoes off as 'When You Wish Upon a Star' played in the background. Then, I helped her up onto the bed.

"To let go of your workaday worries, you have to remember how to fly."

We jumped on the bed. We leapt so high it was like flying.

After scampering off the bed, we sang and played along to a 'Sesame Street' record.

'Rub Your Tummy, Pat Your Head'

We did as instructed.

'Everybody Wash'

We were clean again.

As the night wore on, we blew Magic Bubbles. You know, the soapy liquid in a bottle that comes with a magic wand and plastic corncob pipe?

With only candles lighting the darkened room, the bubbles glowed as they drifted by.

Then, I pulled the kitchen table into the middle of the room. We spread blankets over the top of it, and put pillows underneath.

Yes, we built a fort. Under which we read books by flashlight.

It was almost 'bed time'. I said, "Close your eyes", and then placed a chocolate-covered cherry half way in her slightly open mouth. I already knew she had loved chocolate-covered cherries as a kid, so there you go.

"This is the fruit of childhood. It'll be eaten, and digested, and as it's absorbed by our bodies so, too, will be the childhood lost. It will remain in us forever now."

Infatuation often leads to pithy and pretentious
statements. Please forgive me for that last one I quoted.

We kissed, simultaneously biting the treat in half. It must have been a perfect union, because not one bit of chocolate fell to the floor.

It was time to go to sleep so, as we lie in bed, I turned and kissed her good night.

The next thing I knew, it was all animal lust and stark nakedness. She got on top of me like nobody's business. I was hot for teacher.

The next morning, I happened to look at her notebook which was open to the page titled, 'Sleep Over To-Do List.' There was only one item on her list. It read:

"Play Doctor"

I guess girls are kind of sneaky.

The boys rule the playground or so they think. They only think that because the girls let them.

= The One About the Death Pool =

Reader response to my little "Iraqi War Death Pool" column (Feb. 19) continues to mount. Here are some choice quotes:

"In my humble opinion, it's about the most grotesque goddamn thing I've ever heard and I'll have no part of it."

"Sad that I would get a prize for someone's death... But ya know, they are the crazy ones that decided to enlist. I might as well get something out of it! ;-) "

"You're not funny, Pete."

"I'm a guy but, when I read your 'Death Pool' article, I cried. I cried just like a little girl."

"I hope YOU die first!"

That about covers that. As Emperor Dubya's Folly continues its march toward war, be sure to enter the contest. Win fabulous prizes. Yadda yadda yadda. Until then, as the hippies used to say, "Peace out, brothers and sisters!"

= The One About the Phone =

I usually don't ask people to call me on the telephone. I'm funny that way. Sometimes I'll even say, "don't call me" but they call anyway.

To paraphrase Charlton Heston (in 'Planet of the Apes'), "Damn them! Damn them all to hell!" for calling.

Mostly, they call to talk shit. So we spend time talking that shit and all. Then we stop talking shit, and somebody hangs up. But, obviously, the phone would be very busy while that shit talking is going down. At least, for that brief moment, nobody else can call, as I don't have "call waiting". One person calling at a time is more than enough, thank you very much.

Whoa, I think I've typed "shit" way too much in this entry.

Shit, I've gotta stop doing that.

Usually the person who calls has their "panties in a twist" over something or other. I'm not sure what, because I spend most of the conversation not listening.

Whatever it is, it involves much hand wringing and the proverbial muttering of "Woe is me! Woe is me!" on their part.

However, I do punctuate their conversation with random utterings of "Right!" "Yes!" and the ever popular "You don't say?"

Then they feel much better for having had somebody to talk to, a "good listener" as it were.

Nobody's caught on yet, and called me on my shit. Damn, there I go again with that word.

After writing this, however, I guess the jig is pretty much up with the phone thing. Maybe they'll be so upset that they simply won't call me anymore.

How clever of me, considering I basically don't know what the hell I'm doing, huh?

= The One About Porn Stars =

These are the "top five" porn stars I'd like to "meet and greet". I'm not exactly sure why I'm telling you this. Maybe I'm just in a sharing mood today.

As for any one of these actresses - I'd meet her anywhere. At a cafe, where she could drink coffee. At a bar, where she could drink wine. Or anywhere else, for that matter, and she could drink whatever it is she loves to drink. I'm easy.

5. Shauna Grant

Actually, I guess she's dead. She was poked hard by a .22 rifle at age 20. In the head. Ouch. I guess that's why she ranks down at number five, what with being dead and all.

4. Kacey

Because I like celebrities with only one name. Cher. Madonna. Kacey. Plus, she has a real nice smile. Her teeth are always very white.

3. Cherry Rain

One hell of an actress. I don't know what other emotions she can enact, but she's got that "moaning" one down pat.

2. Paige Sinclair

I have one word to describe this hot Latina firecracker: Flexible. What more needs to be said, really?

1. Aurora Snow

She has beautiful eyes. She appears to enjoy her work. If you haven't seen Snow, she kind of looks like a cross between actress Rebecca Herbst (TV's "General Hospital") and singer Fiona Apple. The only difference: Snow gets nekkid a hell of a lot more when in front of a camera.

That's my list. Now hose yourself off, and continue reading...

= The One About Toys =

The other night, I ran into my old friend, Rex.

Over at his house, he had a big box filled with novelty toys. Somebody he knew had brought them over, to be used as prizes for the children who had come to Rex's daughter's birthday party a few days earlier.

She had turned six.

Suffice to say, a lot of the cooler toys were gone by the time I got there. Some items left in the box:

There were the 'Moo Cow' and 'Cat Meow' cans. You turn them upside down, and they make animal noises. Except these were evidently broken. The cow did not say 'moo'. The cat did not go 'meow'. Instead, both made the sound of the animal that goes 'clunk'. Whichever one that is.

The plastic 'gag lit cigar' and the related 'cigar eraser' were still there. Funny, I guess the kids didn't want those. Maybe those anti-tobacco ads on TV work after all. Who would've guessed? I, however, was soon hankering for a smoke. I couldn't find the 'gag glass of brandy' that usually goes with the cigar. I looked through the whole box. More than once. No brandy.

There was a set of "Pick Up Sticks". If you're older than, say, thirty then you probably remember the game of pick-up-sticks. The kids most likely passed on this one when they saw batteries weren't included. If you're younger than thirty, I should point out that pick-up-sticks were popular in the era BEFORE all toys needed batteries to operate. That was the joke there. Ha, ha. You gotta love that "multi-generational gap" humor.

But the most excellent gift left was the curiously dubbed "Inflatable PVC Toy". Yes, that's what it actually said on the bag. I guess another company held the trademark on the phrase "Beach Ball"(tm), so the jokers in marketing at this company really brainstormed and came up with the next best thing.

Somebody probably got fired over that one, when the company ended up losing millions. And the CEO most likely got a fat yearly bonus. Only in America, huh? It's the Land of Opportunity and Inflatable PVC Toys.

= The One About My Whereabouts =

I know today's entry was rather random. That's because I'm getting ready to fly out to the Austin, TX area tomorrow, to visit friends and (hopefully) record some spoken word material.

I've already made a list of what I need to bring:

1. Electric shaver, so I don't look like a homeless bum by Day Three of the visit.

2. Shoes, the non-exploding pair, to wear on the plane.

3. A couple of good books, to head off boredom. Members of "Pete's Book Club", please note, I'll be reading Charles Wilkins' "The Circus at the Edge of the Earth". It is the account of his "three-thousand kilometre journey into the outrageous and shadowy world of one of North America's most beloved and fragile institutions: the travelling circus." Or so it says on the inside cover blurb. I'll also be reading "Freemasonry Illustrated: Full Ritual and 'Secret' Work of the Three Blue Lodge Degrees", published in 1947. So, even though I'm not a Mason, I'll soon know the "secret Masonic handshake." I'd tell you what it is but, if I did, I'd then have to slit my own throat from ear to ear.

That's my list so far. Oh wait..! Clothes! I almost forgot to put clothes on my list. Yes, I'll definitely need some of those.

I'll be back early next week. Until then, if you haven't yet read the archives here, now would be a good time to do so. Guffaws-O-Plenty in there, believe you me.

Also, I've added many new links (and now, we have web-cam links!) so check those out too. There's much to keep you busy here. So stay busy. And, while you're at it, why not forward my main page URL to a few friends? Share the joy, people. Share the goddamn joy already.

PERSONAL NOTE TO GEORGE W. BUSH: If you're reading this, try not to blow up the planet while I'm gone. I'd very much appreciate that. Thank you. - Pete

posted by Pete 7:29 AM
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