It is Wednesday evening and I am finally trusting Typepad enough to tell you the rest of my Easter weekend, and there I go being insensitive to other religions again. I didn't even CELEBRATE Easter, so I don't know why I keep calling it that, other than I got Good Friday off, which by the way is another reason to move to the South.

So, after Ned and I bought the nails and watched the documentary, we went out to eat on one of those days of the…Easter-ish weekend, and where we went was this restaurant we go to all the time, and we know the whole wait staff, and have opinions about all of them, and the point is, it was finally warm enough to eat outside. The other point is, they have tomato basil blue cheese soup. Yes, it IS goddammit good.

When we were first dating, Ned and I went to that restaurant at night, and sat outside, and I promise you it was black as pitch back there. They really hadn't yet gotten down the whole "light it up at night" concept, and the whole time we kept wondering what, exactly, we were eating.

But on this day, the sun was shining and it was beautiful out. We sat down next to what was clearly a dad, mom and daughter, who was probably in her early 30s. I say they were related because all three of them were perfectly circular people. Really. They were the roundest trio you've ever seen. I think they'd all eaten the dinner candy over at the chocolate factory and had turned violet, Violet.

The daughter? Never stopped talking. Never. Not once. Not ever. Even when other people talked, she talked over them. Do people just have no concept that they're talking nonstop?

Naturally, I glanced over at Ned, and I'm sure I had what my high school best friend always called The Hawk Look, where I am nothing but a giant grimace.

"I know," said Ned, who was of course studying his menu. I don't know why the waiters even try to come over for the first half hour. "I just need a little more time," he always tells them, as my bones become more and more prominent. They probably talk about us every time we walk in there. "Oh, here comes Mr. Memorize the Menu and his girlfriend Hawk Look."

The Circles of Life eventually left, with that daughter yammering all the way to the car, and they were replaced by a woefully attractive couple with two very cute little kids, and?

Their soccer ball.

THEIR SOCCER BALLLLLLL. Which the kids KICKED AT each other between the tables. While we were all eating. The parents drank beer and looked off into the distance. Eventually we could hear they had accents.

"Ohhhh, they're European," said Ned. "That's why they're that way." Ned apparently minored in European People Studies in college. But really, knowing they were European somehow made it less heinous. However, the children, when they weren't kicking a goddamn ball, kept running up to tables and staring at other diners.

"Notice how everyone else is all enthusiastic and friendly to those children?" asked Ned, "And you and I gave them one look and those kids went away? Look at that Hulk-looking guy, being all nice to them. Wow, that guy really does look like Hulk," Ned was looking behind me.

"He does," I said, turning, "except something's off about him, something's not quite Hulk-ish. Oh! I got it! He's with a woman!"

And THAT'S when we were given the official World's Worst People plaque for 2014.

The other thing that happened this weekend that makes me terrible is we were walking my curs, and I was a little ahead of Ned and Edsel (I gave him Edsel to walk. heeeeeee!) (Please see above reference to World's Worst Person), and we came to a neighbor's yard.

"Oh, look at her flowers," I said back to Ned, my voice raised a little so he could hear me. "The old woman who lived here had absolutely gorgeous flowers all season, and they look awful now. I don't even know if she died or what, but if she saw this she'd be pissed. Oooo, her house is for sale!"

I lifted the flap on the sign, to see a flyer on the house. "Damn, no flyers. I'd love to know what they're asking." We walked on, and as we passed the car in front of the old lady's house, there was a person bent behind the raised hatch of the car, working on a piece of lawn equipment. The smile she gave me told me she (a) knew and was likely related to the old lady and (2) had heard every goddamn word I'd said.

You know those moments in life when your blood runs cold and then freezes up and you fall over dead and unfortunately come back to life, found a peanut found a peanut found a peeeeeenut just now? You know those moments?

I had one.

"Oh my GOD!" I wailed once we were out of hearing range. "What?" said Ned. "You think she heard you? Oh, she didn't hear you, no way!"

Dudes. She so heard me.

Yeah. So that was not at all awful.

Oh! And finally, on Sunday morning, while people were in church, Ned and I schlepped off to the Science Center here, because they had baby otters, and also a big giant T. Rex, as opposed to one of those tiny T. Rexes we've heard so much about, and also we wanted to see the tigers they have there. Our theory was everyone was at church and the center would be uncrowded, and we were mostly right, and every time we saw a kid we played "Jewish, Muslim or Atheist?"

Please refer to our plaque, above.

We went into the planetarium and saw a short film all about Sue the T. Rex, and it was really cool because it was projected onto the ceiling of the planetarium and that's always just cool as shit, seeing things on the ceiling like that.

048Photo (c) Ned Nickerson

Then we stampeded off the see the real Sue the T. Rex, and my only complaint is she never performed Bang a Gong. I blame Sue.


You got the teeth of the hydra upon you. I've always liked that line. Because it makes sense in so many different ways.

Anyway, everything at the science center was as cool as we hoped it'd be, not that this was our first rodeo, and don't you hate people who say, "This isn't my first rodeo"? The point is, we went to the outdoor part to see the tigers, and on our way out, without knowing there even was such a thing to see, was



Tumblr_mpj1jjCVT91s5iqc4o1_1280Here he is, and OH MY GOD HE WAS REDUNKULOUS. Yes, I just said redunkulous, and sue me. It's not my first rodeo. I am sorry to tell you that Ned did an impeccable impression of him when we got home, and I wish my DAMN CAMERA would have worked.

But here's Ned's photo of one of the tigers, with whom I am obsessed and I WANT A TIGER.

064Tygur want yuu too ant joon.

So finally, as our day was winding down, we headed off to one last monkey exhibit. There was a hammock right in front of our little window, and a blonde monkey came right over and splayed all on it. We were charmed. Then her black monkey friend joined her, and gave us this look.

095Photo (c) Ned Nickerson

I know it's hard to see with the glass and all, but he was glaring at us, I think. Then? He turned around to address the blonde monkey, and address her he did, because let's just say what they did next is illegal in some states.

I wish I could tell you the degree of our delight. The whole "What was your favorite part?" conversation on the way home was pretty useless, because you can't beat monkey sodomy during your trip to the science center.

So there it is. My weekend, which I finally got to tell you about. And now Ned's out of town, on a worky kind of a thing, and I won't see him Sunday through Sunday, except he'll be home briefly on Friday, so we're going to have "lunch." See above reference to monkey untowardness. So in short, I am getting through my week Nedless, but so far I've muddled through. I hope he doesn't come back with his consciousness raised and turn all nice.

That would be awful. That would be like having the teeth of the hydra upon you.

46 thoughts on “Hawk Look. Or, Teeth of the Hydra Upon You.

  1. Amish Annie says:

    World’s Worst People 2014 plaque. I think it might be true but oh my oh my, this post made me laugh so.
    Sadie, perhaps Barry Gibbon does have a cutie patootie brother named Mo. Actually, Barry Gibbon kind of looks like a late 70s shirtless Maurice.
    Have ate on a restaurant patio in pitch darkness. It was kind of cool, really. Weird, but cool
    Worked at a shelter for over 10 years. Loud noises, kids screaming, shouting, crying, kicking balls, kicking siblings, running and jumping, toys thrown, fighting and playing all within a large house, no problem. To this day, I can fall asleep to any kind of loud noise or music, nothing fazes me.


  2. June Gardens says:

    Oh my god, Euell Gibbon. "Many parts of this pine tree are edible!"


  3. Dancer says:

    Then maybe they should of used the bushes! Or he….never mind…


  4. PJ says:

    You guys! Did you not think it might have been a private moment?


  5. BStar says:

    I got so much actual work done at work today because I couldn’t read the comments,comment myself, and then re-read the comments all day long. This has to stop.
    I don’t care if you are muslim, jewish, athiest, American, or European, your children do not have the right to be rude when they are in a public place. I’m not talking about innocuous childlike behavior. I’m talking rude behavior. I also get the Hawk Look. I have the teeth of the hydra upon me.
    June, please use your telestrator to show Ned being Barry Gibbon. Please.


  6. BABEE GIBBON! *clunk*
    Ow wee.


  7. Texas Kari says:

    OMG – I’ve been blocked from this blog all day. I wrote a comment this morning, hit post and POOF. Comments weren’t even available. Turns out it did post after all. You have written such a funny post, June, and typepad is cockblocking ever’thing.


  8. Hulk says:

    I’ll make sure NotChloe kicks you with a soccer ball next time you visit.


  9. Sadie says:

    Barry Gibbon is shocked to learn that Amish Annie likes Mo better.


  10. hoping my post makes it thru the bermuda typepad dancer says:

    loud children IRK me!! IRK! dinner was for eating and having conversations. not soccer time. EFFF! my grown’d up children also cannot stand noisey kids.


  11. Letha says:

    Barry Gibbon!! Dying laughing.


  12. Megsie says:

    I just wrote a lengthy rant about those soccer-loving kids, and about how wonderful this post is and it disappeared before I could post. Is something wrong with typepad or something?


  13. Sadie says:

    Barry Gibbon experiencing stage fright.


  14. Maryanne says:

    Euell Gibbon! Or maybe Barry Gibbon?


  15. BamaCarol says:

    BABEE GIBBONNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!! He is cute till he starts throwing his poop at you. Wow, wish we could see Ned’s imitation. Maybe you can convince him to do an encore and you can get a picture or do one of your drawings. And I’m sorry, but just because the couple was European does that mean they can let their kids be rude? See, I don’t really like kids all that much anyway and to have one staring at me while I eat would just be the end. Maybe it is an only child thing cause I am an only also. And we have no kids. Just a couple of quiet, non-dramatic Dinks.


  16. kd in so cal says:

    So sorry you can’t comment, June. It must be driving you crazy. Did you take the photo of the Gibbon? It has a fantastic expression on its little face. Oh, right…you can’t respond, can you?


  17. Jessica (is not a floozy) says:

    Was he in the service? Because I’m giggling just thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t actually in the service and you don’t have the heart to tell the busman.


  18. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Ya but, June, if you live in the South it always rains on Good Friday.


  19. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Ya but, June, if you live in the South it always rains on Good Friday.


  20. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Ya but, June, if you live in the South it always rains on Good Friday.


  21. Sadie says:

    You can pet baby tigers!
    If we don’t hear from June, I’ll bet she’s already on her way to Myrtle Beach.


  22. Tee says:

    This post is sooooo hilarious on so many levels. I was snickering all through the post until I got to the Jewish, Muslim, Atheist I lost it completely. And that neighbor? She so heard you.


  23. Holy crap!
    Typepad let me in to the VIP section of this comment club! And now I have forgotten all my clever retorts.
    Love the baby Gibbon!


  24. Jeanie says:

    Monkey sex. Finally. Oh, and I squee’d when I saw the picture of the baby monkey. Excuse me, gibbon. So cute!


  25. Sadie says:

    Please thank you husband for his service. And now I know where you live.
    Like June, I have now given myself an engagement ring.


  26. Jessica (is not a floozy) says:

    Interesting theory, Heather. My fiance was an only child and he seems to have super sonic hearing when we are out at restaurants, stores, etc. It is mostly children and noises coming from children that he hears. He’ll say, “that’s my favorite noise,” and I haven’t heard anything until he says that. Then I will hear the screeching child.
    I am a teacher, though, so I have this cool ability to tune out annoying children. 😉


  27. Sadie is about to throw a soccer ball AT Typepad says:

    This post is so rich it elicits multiple responses from me, but then I see BABY GIBBON and I forget everything else! Those eyes! I’m still trying to decide if he looks real or robotic. Hooo care? He’s a BABY GIBBON!


  28. Heather P. says:

    Awesome post.
    I always wonder if you and I are more acutely aware of talking people, like the chick in the restaurant, because we were both quiet only children. I’ve often contemplated accidently on purpose spilling my water glass in their direction, but it would probably cause more noise from their pie-hole so I don’t.
    That baby gibbon is too cute and it does look like Don King!
    And some weekend you and Ned should go here–
    You can pet baby tigers!


  29. Texas Kari says:

    Similar moment walking in our neighborhood at dusk:
    Cheerful Texas Kari: Ohh, look. That house is made of stone similar to ours.
    Mr. Texas: I think it’s more yellowish.
    Texas daughter: Oh Mom, I like ours WAYYYY better!
    Texas Kari then notices the homeowner standing right on her walkway and proceeds to make excessive compliments to her to assuage embarrassment. Nice.


  30. There’s an Italian restaurant that Larry and I like to eat at, but one of the busboys (busman, really) always notices Larry’s military-style haircut and comes over and thanks him for his service. EVERY TIME. So we’re always sitting at the table trying to eat our Italian salad and our cheesy garlic bread while muttering, “There he is. Don’t make eye contact. Gah, he’s coming over here. DON’T LOOK.”
    So, one evening, I see this same guy drive into my neighborhood and get out of his car and all I can think is “Oh, Lord, he’s stalking us to thank us for our service.” Turns out, he was delivering a pizza to our next-door neighbors. I hid behind some bushes so he wouldn’t discover where I live.
    I just felt like sharing that. You’re welcome.


  31. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Maybe you could get that big monkey to go give Typepad the what-for.


  32. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Maybe you could get that big monkey to go give Typepad the what-for.


  33. PJ Is it going to lose this comment, too? says:

    Maybe you could get that big monkey to go give Typepad the what-for.


  34. PJ says:

    Perhaps the daughter in her 30s never shut up because if she did her mother or father would say something. I have been both the don’t-dare-shut-up daughter and the mother of the won’t shut up daughter.


  35. Sadie thanks you for the Wednesday night posting says:

    Oh, Juuuune, would you please draw a picture of Ned imitating the baby gibbon? If I must, I’ll even wait for Illustrious Tuesday or whatever it’s called.
    And don’t you just hate it when you know your voice carries all through the neighborhood and someone is there to hear you? Yeah, you do. How awful…on so many levels.


  36. Dancer says:

    Lovely post June. And much less scandalous than Ms. Porn o’ monkeys showed on fb. Holy Easter weekend I cannot unsee that shite.
    Also? 1 inch nails on Good Friday.


  37. Fay says:

    Lovely post, Joob!


  38. CYN in FL says:

    Last time I was at the zoo I saw a monkey, I’m, pleasuring himself! Also, a different monkey threw a pile of shit at the crowd. I’d never laughed so hard in my life!!!


  39. Pamela Soul Sister says:

    Oh! Now I read PJ’s post ^ and realize I HAVE been singing it right!


  40. Pamela Soul Sister says:

    Hilarious post. Ned must surely be out of town, for us get an evening post. What a treat. Also, love his photo credit!
    You’re dirty, sweet and you’re my girl…”
    Please tell me I’ve been singing that correctly all of these decades.


  41. Anita says:

    The baby gibbon sort of looks like a baby Don King.
    Sounds like a fin, fun Easter-ish weekend.


  42. Kate says:



  43. PJ some things never change or a rose by any other name says:

    This post is so full of richness I decided to first go see what I could learn about the teeth of the hydra, you dirty sweet girl. And what did I find in Google but a reference to a Bye Bye Pie post
    And so of course I had to read that post where we get to Dick and his Whitman and a Hello Kitty ornament and Sadie talking about fuzzy dicks and I just couldn’t even begin to repeat all the talk about masturbating horses.
    Come for the masturbating horses (see what I did there?) and stay for the monkey sex.


  44. Barbinmilwaukee says:

    Don’t ya just love it when people tell you no one heard you and you know damn well they did. How I love your pictures. On a sad note, our baby gorilla died at the Milwaukee Zoo this past weekend so your monkey pictures cheered me a bit.


  45. Letha, toss him some Grape Nuts, says:

    Little Euell Gibbon! Love.


  46. Just Paula says:

    Jew, Muslim or Atheist. Nice.


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