August 27, 2003
-
Anyone interested in a Bob ? I mean, a Rover ? No?
I have to tell you, I think Bob and I have reached that point in our relationship, when counselling is the only option left, before we go our seperate ways.
Just the other day, M drove the 120 km or so to our hometown. "It's a fine, fine car," he said and , like any proud mother would, I blushed, although I think I managed to hide it well.
So, this afternoon, the gloomy Quirkchen y'all love to hate, or hate to love, or whatEVER, walkes out of her golden cage, walks over the sleeping Newfoundland, steps in dog poo, trips over a weird bundle of cats, (don't ask. Them cats are always involved in bizarre se.x.ual activities ), fights -and wins- the rustic rusty gate and walks over to her very dusty car.
She leaps into her seat, optimistic and hopefull because , you know, a girl has to put her trust in something; Well, you know what happens next, don't you. Damn Bob just coughs and coughs, but does not start.
The only thing I could think of was "shit, shit shit. I don't have any cigarettes !" because, well, I didn't have any cigarettes left. I rang M, who is away in god-forsaken Romania. "Dude, remember how you promised me a tractor a little while ago?" I said.
So anyway. He suggested that I'd walk (I'll repeat that: me. w.a.l.k ) up to the village, to buy cigarettes. He knows how the lack of cigarettes turns me into a raging sociopath and I think he was afraid I'll slaughter the neighbors while he's away and can't bail me out. He also suggested that I'd call the service, (Dah !) and get the car to the garage, which I was going to do anyway. My plan was to just dump it there, and use his Jag.
Apparently, though, he thought of that option and as a precaution, took the car keys with him to, um, Romania, where no doubt he will have a lot of oportunities to actually use the damn thang.
I tell you, that man loves me so badly, it's sad. I know, today bares a striking resemblance to that other time when Bob wouldn't start, but the wee difference suggests that I should be thankful, really. And I'll tell you why.
1. Mistress of the universe and Bank Manager husband are away, it seems.
2. I don't have any final exams, today.
3. I found M's spare keys, in his underwear drawer.
4. Miraculously, I am now the giddy owner of 5 packs of Marlboro.
5. Don't ask, and I won't have to lie.
6. That jag is a super cool car. I want one, too.
Comments (27)
here's to hoping that bob doesn't die on you again. and thanx always for your comments, i was very flattered by your last comment. and i think we share a lot of the same demons. enough said.
Thank Godess for spare keys, is what I say.
I've given up smoking myself so ehum...yeah, so I am good. Eh? After 20 + years I have given up and I am good. Good as they come. Apart from being completely raving mad of course. As you well know. Anyway darlin, sofa is calling my name and I wonder why you're never online on icq, but perhaps we aren't compatible or soemthing, perhaps it's just the fact that you're a smoker that my puter don't like
Love ya!
ifso, thank you. I always enjoy your writing and many times find bits of me peeking underneath.
kubs, damn icq. I didn't touch it, but it was off. I'm online now. Just email me when you're there. I'll try to pay attention.
OH yeah...
in the past, I have been known to go through ashtrays for dead butts with a bit left, rather than DRIVE to the store...I am THAT lazy.
Your past is my future, but, sure. Rub it in, why don't you. I had no cigarettes and I had no car. Now let's see you top that ;
ROFL!!! I'm so proud of you and your resourceful, underwear-drawer-scouring ways
Nice
Okay, apparently Xanga likes to post things before I actually hit submit.. that was freakish.. but all I was going to add was another "
"
I thought I'm the only Quirk who gets comments run away from. One blog here won't let me post any comments, although the guy swears I'm not banned. He did, however, imply that it may be the foul language I use. No, but seriously, entries disppear, comments don't post..I was convinced it's just me, again.
) That emoticon you're using, Morgane, it scares the living hell out of me, each and every time.
I think my George (long for Geo, as in three-cylinder Geo Metro, class of 1992) would make a great pet for Bob.
George is Bob's pet. Or, more accurately, Bob is George's pet. (short for Dog George, a retired admiral and dog in charge of all cats, Quirks and hedgehogs.) Now, is that a coincidence or wha !?
Did you kick the tires when Bob wouldn't start? I find it very satisfying, though it helps the situation not at all. But the pain in my foot does distracts me.
What, you think Bob has no feelings, at all ? That darn car is posessed by demons, I swear. Would hate to evoke that kind of melodrama, so close to the finish line. Who knows, I may buy myself a tractor, in the end. I hear tractors have tires made to last forever, whereas Bob's tires..well. It's a matter of time until they blow up; And you know, they probably will, too. Very soon.
Everything is in the underwear drawer. Always is. Everything and especially....and this is key.....the underwear.
Ciao, Quirk.
Sorry, I really should've taken Bob's feelings into consideration. I do wonder if he will become jealous of your tractor lust, though?
Isn't underwear in the drawer to provide camoflauge(sp?) for everything else?
Ciao, william. It's an honor and a pleasure . And yes, exactly. The underwear.
sqonk, yes. I thought of it yesterday, how obvious it is to keep the wallet and keys there because obviously, it's the last place a thief will search. Obviously. It's like a safe. It's like hiding your stuff in a shoe, while you're at the beach. It is a 'no touch zone.'
Lordy, I remember those out-of-cigarettes-panic attacks. They are horrendous, aren't they? Jeff and I both smoked in the early years of our marriage, and he had the darling little habit of leaving for the night shift with A) our only car, and B) the only pack of cigs left. Did he leave me a few? No. Did he leave me one? No. Do you know how bitchy a woman can become with a screaming infant and no cigarettes for 10 hours? You don't even WANT to know, I promise you.
Put that Jag on your Christmas list. Better yet, trade him, and let HIM drive Bob. Believe me, there will be two jags in the driveway!
This whole entry was pure ENTERTAINMENT!!!! When I read your "and leave your stuff in your shoe when you go swimming" or whatever, reminds me of the time I came home from working out and in pulling off my shirt pulled off the microphone on my hearing aide and the right one at that (my best ear). I seearched for days for the thing cost like $900 to replace. Finally I cleaned Lee's side of the closit and in moving his shoes hfelt something in one....right! there it was. Now the only problem I have faced is Sspit, my black cat, eating my aide whilst I am napping. I finally put a box by the sofa so I have something to put them in!! Oh, the Jag. I am an Inspector Morse fan and admire his devotion to his Jag!!
1. Men who leave women with no vehicle and no cigarettes should be exiled, unless they have a damn good excuse. ("I took the car to buy the marlboro facotry and a donkey, honey.")
2. Hearing-aids should be GLUED to one's self. Keys, too. Cell phones, also.
3. I love jags, but I love my Bob more.
Hah! You showed him! Not that Jeff makes trips to Romania, but that's the kind of thing he would do- take the car keys with him.
Oddly, it is something M never does. Nor would he prevent me from driving his car, of course. I hope you realize I use my artistic freedom, um, freely..
Re: my name
"Xanthe" has been my screenname of choice since college, but since many more people are online now, I rarely get to use it. (Someone has taken the Xanga name Xanthe, but I don't think they are in circulation anymore). Xanthe=golden in Greek, and I got the name from a book my mom wrote. I have appended (or is it 'propended' or 'prefixed' -- yes, I think it's prefixed) Xanthe with Yarden, as I'm fairly confident nobody else will choose the combination.
I chose "Yarden" after a characer from a Stephen Lawhead book. I didn't know it meant "Jordan" but it makes sense.
You know how it is. You're under pressure and you have to choose a screenname, only realizing much later that nobody knows why you chose it. I used to also use "Aychvee" because that was my nearest approximation of the pronunciation of my initials "HV"... (I don't have those initials anymore, and again, I had to explain that one a lot.)
Also, yardenxanthe is easy to type.
Easy to type ?! you have got to be joking. Although, I suppose practice makes perfect . Yes, I know how it is, pressure, pressure, pressure.
key thieves have their hands cut off in iran.....
Hmmmm, I enjoy living life dangerously, what can I say. But seriously, I'm not a thief . I just do it for fun. Plus, it was a matter of life and death, horse. And then the dog ate my homework.
My turn to be crawling on the floor over an entry about a car.
Not that Jeff would take the keys so that I couldn't drive! He would just do it without thinking. xoxoxo
On second thought..M does tend to lock me in, occasionaly, when he goes to work. His excuse is that he is absent minded. My theory is complicated and has to do with the dark, middle ages ; No proof, though.
Comments are closed.