Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Friday, September 22, 2006

    And Here’s to You, Mrs. Robinson

    (Because you really don't want to hear the boring details about me running around trying to pull together a party for the boyos, all the while seething inside about Current Family Events, I give you this little escapade from the 15th.)

    Well, that was interesting.

    The boyos have been impossible lately. I don’t know if they are adjusting to school, if their stars are out of whack or what, but it’s been non-stop whining, fighting, yelling, contradicting, bossing and various other things that make me want to pluck out my own eardrums.

    So I ignored them when they yelled downstairs to come up RIGHT NOW.
    And again.
    But I finally wandered up when they insisted there was a man at the door, with a ball.


    Sure enough, I looked out the window and saw an arm holding a tennis ball.
    Turns out it was connected to someone.
    I held the dog and both boyos back as I opened the door.

    “Hi,” he said. “I’m one of your neighbors...”
    *snort* Yeah. Uh-huh. Standard line.
    “…and I want to talk to you about something.”
    I studied him. Tall, thin, boyish smile, dark hair, blue eyes.
    Never seen him before in my life.
    “Well, I’m a student, and I’m trying to earn money to go to Spain next semester…”
    Heard this one.
    …and I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”

    I stood there for a second, looking at my darling, yelling boyos, one dressed and one not because it was a battle I didn’t feel like waging that morning.

    Then I put on my best Nancy Dancehall Demented MILF Smile ™

    “Yes! Absolutely. I’ve been waiting for you. How many magazines do we need to sell to get there?”
    Blink Blink. Smile.
    “They’re books, actually…”
    “Oh, that’s too bad. My husband owns a bookstore. I’ve got more than I need.”
    “Oh…ok…uh thanks.”
    “Sure! Any time!”

    Wonder if it works on Mormons?

    16 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Stucco wrote in a love letter...

    "Demented MILF"? I wanted that to sound arousing, but the effect is more like fright. And what of the ball? Was it blue? And if he's broke, Mexico is a lot closer and cheaper than Spain, and there he can see a Donkey Show. Youth is wasted on the young.

    4:26 PM, September 22, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Oh yes, the effect was quite frightening, I assure you. But I believe that was the point.

    4:44 PM, September 22, 2006  
    Blogger Dantares wrote in a love letter...

    "Hello. We would like to talk to you about God."
    Dantares (draws up a chair, sitting just inside a door while the priests stand outside, in the rain). "Fire away."

    2:17 AM, September 23, 2006  
    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    You know the only good thing I can think of that is good about living in a gated community is that it keeps people like that out. I wonder what the tennis ball was about?

    4:27 AM, September 23, 2006  
    Anonymous clowncar wrote in a love letter...

    Yes, I agree with Bud, that tennis ball is the one intriguiging detail...

    I hadn't realized you had trademarked the Demented MILF Smile. Do you have a team of lawyers on the lookout for intellectual property infringement?

    - clowncar (by Hasbro!)

    8:05 AM, September 23, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Heh. Nice one, Dantares.

    I think the tennis ball was meant to give him some sort of boyish appeal. But when you've got a 22ish, 23ish guy trying to pass himself off as 18ish, it just turns creepy.

    Yes, Mr. Clowncar, I do; the same team of lawyers I use to keep O in line.
    Congrats on the Hasbro deal! ;-)

    12:22 PM, September 23, 2006  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    My theory -- tennis ball is so when the fearsome, fang-baring dogs go for him, he can attempt to distract them....

    oh, if I"m doing the MILF thing, do I owe you royalties?

    6:48 PM, September 23, 2006  
    Blogger meno wrote in a love letter...

    That is inspired. I've asked the Mister to install a little camera at the front door so that i don't make the mistake of answering it when these creepy kids show up. But until then, this is my new defense.

    dantares, BRILLIANT I'm stealing this.

    9:50 PM, September 23, 2006  
    Blogger Irrelephant wrote in a love letter...

    I've found that answering the door starkers, reeking of turpentine and holding a paintbrush (preferably a #4 Filbert) always shuts them down cold, even if they're only there to read the meter.

    If it's cold outside, I usually switch to a #8 Bright.

    7:58 PM, September 24, 2006  
    Blogger Schmoopie wrote in a love letter...

    It really sucks when you have a sign on the door that says "No Solicitors" and you still get people at your door. Do people not know what the word solicitation means anymore? The English language is lost on many who speak it.

    12:29 PM, September 25, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    That's a good theory, Amusing. He was skinny and probably couldn't have defended himself from my cat.
    You only owe me money if you're using a Nancy Dancehall brand Demented MILF Smile.

    *snort* Yeah, I bet it does, Irrelephant. One look at that trunk... ;-)

    People don't know what manners are anymore, Schmoop.

    P.S. I'm posting on the sly...

    3:44 PM, September 25, 2006  
    Blogger Schmoopie wrote in a love letter...

    I wondered if you had to go "underground" to post. ;) Are you pretending to have stomach trouble and taking the laptop into the bathroom? That's what I'd do!

    7:51 PM, September 25, 2006  
    Blogger D_Man wrote in a love letter...

    I don't know if this helps, but Mormons are scared of meat cleavers.

    5:51 AM, September 26, 2006  
    Blogger Georgia wrote in a love letter...

    Okay, I have to know....what in the world is a "demented MILF"???? Pls tell me -- it sounds wicked!

    3:51 AM, September 27, 2006  
    Blogger Lucky Star wrote in a love letter...

    Totally doesn't work on Mormons. Flashing them would scare them off pretty good, I bet.

    dementia sets in so slowly, you hardly notice the change...

    Oh, and I think we all missed the fact that he invited you to join him! That's a no-brainer. Whiney kids or hot boy in Europe?? Hmmm....

    12:05 PM, September 27, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    D-Man: Good to know :-)

    Georgia: Welcome. My answer's on your site. :-)

    Hey LS: Visions of Paris dance in my head...but not with that kid...

    6:19 PM, September 29, 2006  

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