It is a river, that drowns the tender reed

So, I like this tall boy. IKNOWSHUTUP.

The first person to say, "Nice man break" gets a slap from my shingles. Which hurt, by the way. I guess the hurty part was on its way when I wrote, "Oh, it doesn't hurt that much." It's like God is sitting there annoyed with me all the time. Reading my blog. "Oh really? You don't think shingles are so bad? Try this, heifer."

Why am I on God's last nerve all the time? Am I that bad? Aren't there other people who are more irritating, like–okay, I was going to say Saddam Hussein or Osama bin Laden, but I guess I can't say them anymore. What about Huey Lewis? Can't God be concentrating on him?

My POINT is, even though I was on a man break I met Tall Boy and I said, "Ooo! Look at him!" and then I was all, "No. Man break" and then I was all "No, but look at him!" and then I was all, "NO! Man break!" and then I was all, "But LOOK!" and this is probably why God takes time out of his busy schedule to find me jarring.

I've been seeing him for a few weeks now and believe it or not he lives IN THE SAME CITY, which is a first. Everyone I have dated since I have become old and single and not-so-swinging has lived in Winston or Charlotte or Tibet.

And I keep waiting to find out what's wrong with him. I mean, tall. I like tall. Has two kittens. Marry me now. Vegetarian. Okay, I'll never need to ask, Did you eat all the ribs? Does animal rescue in his spare time. Hi, are you Barry Gibb?

I know that made no sense. But you know how I am about Barry Gibb. And for the record, Barry Gibb has about five rescue dogs. So it kind of made sense.

Yesterday, Tall Boy sent me an email with a picture from his kittens. "Cora and Carmen say hi," he wrote. He even has good cat names.

But there. There was the flaw I was looking for. Dudes.

Carmen and cora 2
I know. Those kittens are adorable. Look at the one with half a face. And the carmely one sat on me.

But I wrote back: "What is with that blanket? Holy crap."

"I knew you were going to mention the blanket. I like that blanket. It's soft. I am secure in my masculinity."

"Maybe you shouldn't be," I wrote.

I mean, that thing is dreadful. It's not just that it is flower-covered. They are awful flowers. I don't know how the kittens aren't having seizures.

Several hours later I wrote back. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to whip out all my charms at this point, so you're gonna get all 'Oh my God, June is THE BOMB.' And then you're gonna say 'I will do ANYTHING for June.' And you're going to say, 'June. What can I do for you? Name it!' And I will say, Get rid of that blanket."

"I'm not getting rid of the blanket," he said, oblivious to my charms, which I thought I had already whipped out. "It's cozy. Am I supposed to sleep on a slap of concrete under chainmail? Is that more manly?"

"Yes."

Then I came up with an even more brilliant plan.

"Did you ever see Sweet November?" I wrote him, thinking this was the best idea ever.

I explained the plot of Sweet November, which many of you may recall I just saw. Sandy Dennis, who I find irritating much like God finds me irritating, is dying of something (they are never specific) (but she is all pink and healthy and glowing throughout the film) (sometimes she naps, to let us know she is dying), and each month she lets a new man move in with her. Throughout the month, she fixes whatever is wrong with each man. Naturally they each fall madly in love with old buck-toothed, nervous Sandy Dennis, but she unceremoniously kicks them out on the 31st, or in poor Anthony Newly's case, the 30th, because he got her in sweet November.

"She took men who seemed normal, but who had terrible problems, like hideous blankets, and fixed them," I wrote. "And OH MY GOD! Our first date was November first! I WAS MEANT TO CURE YOU OF THE BLANKET!"

"This is the most I have ever thought about Sandy Dennis," was all Tall Boy wrote back.

That was, in fact, the last we talked last night.

My feeling is that is because he went to the all-night blanket store to get something manlier.

282 thoughts on “It is a river, that drowns the tender reed

  1. maybe its a bidet thingy… you know “bidets for the blind” you feel all clean, some models you know come with a air dryer

    Like

  2. maybe its a bidet thingy… you know “bidets for the blind” you feel all clean, some models you know come with a air dryer

    Like

  3. maybe its a bidet thingy… you know “bidets for the blind” you feel all clean, some models you know come with a air dryer

    Like

  4. I read one of Salvador Dali’s books once. He had the perfect day when his poop came out in the form of two perfect tusks. And then he ran out, told his wife Gala about it, and spit on her forehead.
    Ain’t love grand?

    Like

  5. oh Fur-gee…what a sweet expectorant story, however later he turned them into a mobile… with a drowsy clock

    Like

  6. oh Fur-gee…what a sweet expectorant story, however later he turned them into a mobile… with a drowsy clock

    Like

  7. oh Fur-gee…what a sweet expectorant story, however later he turned them into a mobile… with a drowsy clock

    Like

  8. Combo plate! I’m just catching up. I was out watching Twilight Part X. So the three hundred comments passed me by.
    Darling hubby says “You are so yelling out “Combo Plate!” the next time you use the bathroom, whether or not it’s number two. To which I nodded. I was still laughing and snorting and crying so I couldn’t say anything.

    Like

  9. Tall Boy’s cats are beautiful! And the blanket reminds me of “Phantom of the Opera” — such a love story :)I’m glad you were just being sarcastic, because the blanket isn’t really a big deal . . . it sounds like he has a good heart (with the two kitties and doing animal rescue). That’s the important part 🙂

    Like

  10. I want to know about the movie date when Junie reches for Tall dude’s raisinettes and goobers and gets to the whopper… yee haa

    Like

  11. I want to know about the movie date when Junie reches for Tall dude’s raisinettes and goobers and gets to the whopper… yee haa

    Like

  12. I want to know about the movie date when Junie reches for Tall dude’s raisinettes and goobers and gets to the whopper… yee haa

    Like

  13. Splendor in the Grass is on TCM tonifht.
    Bunchers are more likely to clog the toilet than wrappers. I learned that when consulting the Google regarding a plumbing issue involving tissue.
    That’s all I’ve got.

    Like

  14. Poop Poop dePoop-
    Cannot believe all the hilarity I missed YET AGAIN today-
    3ply Cottonelle-luxurious AND non shredding-
    Nothing but the best for THIS wrapper-
    Hulk- you are the King of Comments today!
    Just Paula and Sadie- I lurve you two!

    Like

  15. Mattie....never knew ppl bunched by choice. i thought bunching only happened when the paper came out to fast as it sometimes does says:

    Ever read the coments and at about comment 153 of 1897373829081773 comments you thought of something witty and revant and then you get to the end and have no freaking idea what yoi were going to say? Yeah, that’s me. I guess I would comment more if I took notes as I read.
    I forgot who btought it up but the bunchers should answer: how do you make sure you fingers are safe!?!?!?!?!
    June- congrats on Tall Boy! Still living vicariously through you!
    And as one of your 0.16 Saturdqy readers, where are you?

    Like

  16. Wowza!!
    June must have had a REALLY EXCITING DATE last night!!
    CRAP-time to get ready for work-will be distracted ALL DAY- WONDERING/HOPING/PRAYING she hasn’t smothered under that ding dang duvet-
    Also glad RW is NOT a suspect-

    Like

  17. Yay June!
    Glad you are still alive-
    Seriously hoping you’re feeling OK today and your meds kicked in early enough to catch the shitgles before they started their rampage-

    Like

  18. I am way late to this party but I was away from the computer all weekend. I was walking on the bike path at the beach and the word POOP was written on the path…in poop. of course we took a picture. 🙂

    Like

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