Saturday, April 19, 2008

It's Friday and I'm living in the past. And so are my boys (I promise I don't talk like that normally.)

(This is what I originally posted yesterday before Blogger inexplicably chopped off the ends of sentences and left entire ones out and then wouldn't let me do anything except write text in the title box. Beej had left a comment before I managed to just ax the whole thing, so a strange man in Massachusetts was the only person who got to read about my underwear Friday morning. And don't worry, my laundry is drying on the line as I type this.)

How many pairs of underwear does a normal person own? I swear I did laundry a week ago and yet I'm completely out of fresh drawers. I've resorted to those red silk boxers that were a gift back in high school. That's 12-year-old underpants, people, although they're typically deployed only once or twice a year on desperate occassions such as this, so they look brand new. I don't even like boxers. Silk boxers, by the way, are not so much a functional garment as they are a vague suggestion of one. They kind of do their own thing, like the wandering Touareg tribes of the Sahara, only not as fierce. I think they're in my left sock right now.

Blog post describing my underpants and specifically using the word "underpants"? Check.

Further randomness: A large department store chain that describes itself as "family clothing" has a common fabric color that they call "Peyote." There's also a less common color described as "Vanilla Ice." One is cooler than they realize, the other not as cool as they think. I'll let you decide.

I had a monologue that I worked out in my head yesterday involving a urinal and it's previous user, but since I've already described my underwear to you today, I may save that for another time.

Instead, I'll leave you this week with some photos from our trip to Georgia last weekend that I got around to loading into the the ol' 'puter. As if anyone gives a shit. Whatever, it gives me another chance to express my hatred of flowers. Disclaimer: the first three are from a moving vehicle and were chosen only because they approach level and do not induce vertigo.

The road down to Georgia, but not the same one the Devil took. Or maybe it is.


Tiny theater in a flyspeck east Tennessee town putting on a production of The Diary of Anne Frank = hope for the world.


This jolly fellow saw me taking his picture through the sunroof. We connected. It was a moment.

These dogwood blossoms in my parents' backyard are both rude and offensive. I wish they would die.

I'm glad this bumblebee likes the azaleas because I sure as shit don't.

Dinosaur. Maybe a velociraptor.


Good thing I had a live cow to sate his appetite. My parents' backyard can be a dangerous place.

17 comments:

Courtney said...

I'd like to point out to everyone that Mickey tried to take a picture out the sunroof while driving, but hurt his hand because the sunroof was closed. Hee.

Noelle said...

I love getting the story behind the story from Courtney. I'm also glad you survived the dinosaur attack and lived to tell us the tale of your undies.

Dianne said...

Flyspeck is right! I actually grew up in Etowah and my parents and best friend still live there. I have to admit my main goal was getting out of there...And I guess I met that goal! LOL It's sort of charming in its own right I guess...

The Dutchess of Kickball said...

Ack, velociraptor. The only thing worse would be if it were IN the flowers, now that would be terrifying.

nancypearlwannabe said...

I know I already commented on this post once, but I felt the need to reiterate that I very much enjoy the lizard/velociraptor picture at the end.

The Modern Gal said...

How do you feel about silk boxers with a flower print?

Jacob said...

You sure do take a lot of pictures of flowers to hate them so much. This is kind of like that preacher in Colorado who hated homosexuals but spent a lot of money on gay prostitutes.

Julie said...

Seconded, Jacob.

sid said...

Tiny american towns are sooo cute. Adorable. Own small towns don't look like that. I remember when my mom took us to visit her great aunts .... they didn't have electricity. The toilets weren't apart of the houses. I was horrified. Horrified I tell you.

Meaghan said...

Sounds like you need some backup underoos, but don't buy them from the "family clothing" store you mentioned. They'll most likely fall apart.

And I appreciate Courtney's story behind the story as well.

Mickey said...

courtney- I didn't hurt my hand. I was just startled.

noelle- Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a minute there.

dianne- We take 411 a lot and I always wanted to take pictures of Etowah. It is a cute place. That's cool that you grew up there. And escaped.

dutchess- Luckily, velociraptors have the same aversion to flowers that I do.

npw- I'm glad. And sorry if your intitial comment was destroyed.

modern gal- They would be both hideous and incompetent.

jacob- That's exactly what it's like.

julie- Noted.

sid- I'm glad you lived to tell the tale. I love driving through quaint little country towns.

Mickey said...

meaghan- But peyote underpants could be a lot of fun!

Chris said...

Huh, that is cool: "Diary of Anne Frank" in a small-town community theater.

Our own small-city community theater recently put on a stage version of "Footloose," which I thought was quite ambitious. I'm sorry I cannot offer a review, as I did not attend.

Now I kind of wish I had, just so I could describe it to you.

Allie said...

When I turned 30, I threw out all of my super old underwear. It was a rite of passage. I'd recommend it.

I love that you're so annoyed by flowers yet you take beautiful pictures of them.

Mickey said...

chris- How could you miss out on Footloose?!

allie- Did you dance around a ceremonial bonfire of undies? That's how I'm gonna do it. No flowers will be invited.

Allie said...

I didn't! And now I'm sad! Maybe I'll do it again when I turn forty and do it right.

Cave-Woman said...

Your anoles look so healthy! Whatever is going on in their habitat must be just right!