leroBlog

Iris has been sneaking booze whenever she comes over to visit.

click on the images twice to erect them to full size. mm!

So that idiot to the right — the one from the last post — eventually wrote back to me saying that we had “shared a bottle of wine” and “so much more” in California in 2006. I was certain he was wrong, as I would never share “so much more” with someone who would describe drinking and doing it as “sharing a bottle of wine” and “so much more”. I wrote back and told him he was making a mistake. He wrote and said he wasn’t, and included my (accurate) cell phone number. This scared me. He kept writing things like, “it was a beautiful moment in time and it’s okay if your life has moved on…” and I kept looking hard at that horrible barbed wire tattoo on his bicep and wondering if I’d gone into a fugue state and needed to consult a neurologist.

After 17 emails, I eventually wrote: ARE YOU SURE YOU WERE NOT AT TREASURES STRIP CLUB IN THE SUMMER OF 2008 AND WE MET AND WE TALKED ABOUT BOXING AND I GAVE YOU MY BUSINESS CARD????

As it turns out, we DID meet in the strip club in Houston. We talked about boxing. I gave him my business card. We shared no wine nor other wet things. He had confused me with some other woman he’d plowed in 2006 in California. I became extremely angry.

Now I am no longer angry.

What I am, however, is at the end of this radio program. If you click on the play button and fast forward to minute 42:00, you’ll hear me interviewed by a French robot.

my room is so messy and there is something preventing me from touching it. i added to the pile with needless new clo-things today. there are lots of things to steam. i had a helpful conversation with the therapist who wrote this book. i didn’t do any curing, but in about 45 minutes he seemed to pinpoint why i was falling through plate glass windows and not looking both ways before i cross the street. this was a HUGE relief. one minute later, i got on the phone with my mother and picked a fight and hurt her feelings and as a result felt wretched.

i labeled some objects in the kitchen to establish order.

as i walked away, another one of the INFURIATING IKEA STORAGE SOLUTIONS THAT PROMISED ME A BETTER LIFE fell off the wall and knocked over the objects. the last time one of these pots fell off the wall it went into a ceramic dish containing much bacon grease, which splashed all over the kitchen like fat child doing a cannonball into an above-ground pool. now there are TWO POTS THAT MAKE ME MAD. see how “pot that made me mad” uses the past tense? it is back in the present. motherfucker!

the encrapening of the universe.

also i miss the ying yang twins. everyone thinks the best lyric in Wait (The Whisper Song) is “hey bitch, wait til you see my dick”, but really it’s “got a sexy ass body and yo ass look soft. mind if I touch it and see if it’s soft?”

how can EVERYTHING be so disappointing?

I wrote a story for an anthology called The Edible City. It’s porno!!

First page

Second page

Third page

STUFFING RECIPE!

I’m pretty sure the woman dressed in the quilted brown jacket behind me in the supermarket checkout line lives alone.

The little tins are containers of Fancy Feast.

(I was buying rutabegas, which I’ve decided are GROSS.)

here is a series of my buddies wearing my laser sunblockers.

GABE

there is lily

and ME

Before I lay down for my laser eye surgery today, I said to the nurse, “DID YOU SANITIZE THE LASER??!? DID YOU PUT A FRESH ONE IN THERE FOR ME?” She said, “Oh Ms. Borel, don’t worry about anything. It’s all been cleaned.”

Then the doctor made me look like this!

I wish she’d understood my joke.

People frequently ask me about wine pairings. Tonight, these are mine.

Complimentary eye bonbons.

Flurazepam, Valium and Demerol. And Vidal Icewine!