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He Films You When You're Sleeping...

11/26/2013

Rudolph, The Drag Queen Reindeer
(Sung to the tune of Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer
as featured in Goodbye to Beekman Place)

Rudolph, the drag queen reindeer - had a thing for panty-hose;
he had an eye for fashion - his cave was draped in satin throws.

All of the other reindeer, used to laugh - they'd call him queer;
they'd really get offended when - he'd order wine instead of beer.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say:
"Rudolph (hic)...I love you (hic)...I need you (hic)...I want you...did I mention I'm gay?"

(A bom, bom, bom...)

Now, all the reindeer loathe him - as Rudolph's Santa's favorite buck;
Santa eyed Rudolph's antlers, rubbed his crotch and said, "Let's fuck!"

Soon, the happy couple was married - the elves, they wished them all the best;
and now Santa Claus and Rudolph spend...Christmas boffing in Key West!

Frosty, The Snowman
As featured in The Casual Cafe

Frosty, the snowman...sold pre-me-um cocaine;
with his tailored boots and his custom suits and twelve grand in gold chains.

Frosty, the SNOW-man...was as stoned as he could be;
with his eyes bloodshot, his nose dripping snot - like the guys on MTV.

There was this funny white stuff on a piece of mirror he found...
for when he placed it up his nose, he began to dance around!

Frosty was murdered, when a drug deal fell through.
He lay in a flood of his cold, red blood - and his nose was ripped off too.

Frosty was dying - and his fate could have been better.
If only he'd wised-up-ta' ...the... National SemiConduct-a, and taken a job at Chedders!

Testosterone Wonderland
(Sung to the tune of "Winter Wonderland,"
written during my employment at
HANDY ANDY Home Improvement Centers)

In the meadow, we can build a toolshed.
And then we'll sit back and drink some beer.
We'll pass gas as we watch the big game...
...we'll clean our guns so we can shoot a deer.

Later on, we'll conspire. As we scratch by the fire.
Our trucks are in sight; we'll wear our green vests tonight...
...walking through testosterone wonderland.

He Films You When You're Sleeping

Various lines from various unfinished - and extremely inappropriate - Christmas carols :)

Santa Claus is Coming to Town
He films you when you're sleeping. He knows you masturbate.
He knows that when you close your eyes, it's fifty shades of hate...

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Have yourself a kinky little Christmas, may your bonds be tight.
Thanks to the mask, your troubles will be out of sight...

The Twelve Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me - a virus, now known as HIV...

White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas - just like the ones before the war...

From The Little Drummer Boy
Cum, he told me
Bah-rum-bum-bum-bum...

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Thomas the Toilet

11/26/2013

1 Comment

So, Rotundo the unsupervised child pissed on the Thomas the Train table again, and now Thomas smells like a restroom. And that's actually a lot grosser than it sounds when you consider the amount of kids who lean, crawl, and climb in the table...pushing the cars around the little track with sticky hands, runny noses, and uncovered sneezes that spray spit & snot everywhere. Faces & fingers just inches away from filmy wooden surfaces. Call Grissom's team in Vegas and have them bring swabs.

In all honesty, the Thomas the Train table is pretty disgusting on its own. It's basically a giant Petri dish, ground-zero for kid crud. The playing surface is paper-covered particle board that doesn't hold up well to spilled drinks. The tracks themselves are fashioned from porous, moisture-absorbing wood - and their joints stay wet for hours after a spill. And the worst parts of the table are the trains themselves, the creepily-personified choo-choo train-cars that are pushed through pools of fresh DNA by kids who haven't yet learned to wash their hands after pooping. I swear to God, the world's next influenza pandemic will begin with unsupervised children, rather than African monkeys.

Note how dark the train tracks' connections are. That's the telltale sign that Thomas got hosed.

Oops...looks like Thomas lost some coolant in the Roundhouse.

But Thomas the Toilet is only the tip of the holiday iceberg. Such acts of bad behavior are sign that "Fundraising Season" has began, and on any given day in the last week of November and the first two weeks of December, the bookstore is overrun by unsupervised kids. Nov/Dec is prime time for holiday bookfairs, school-sponsered sales drives where a portion of the bookstore's sales are donated to a local school. Sometimes they're grade schools, other times they're high schools. But no matter how old the recipients, almost every daily bookdrive is accompanied by in-store "events" to encourage parents to attend. And these events can be chilling.

Now, I must take great care in what I'm about to say. I've been with Barnes & Noble for 11 years now, and I'm genuinely grateful for all outside efforts that bring business into the store. The events that take place during bookfairs include choir singing, string quartets, talent shows, art displays, and occasionally adult teachers reading stories. The adults are great of course, and the artwork is nice because it's quiet; many of the teenage musical performances aren't half-bad themselves, so long as the budding pubescents stick to Christmas carols - and avoid angsty folk-grunge.

But it's the little kids that are hardest to handle, especially since they're always so excited to be here. How can I say this tactfully? (Ahem.) There is a noticeable difference between a somewhat-experienced high school quartet and a grade school band that's unfamiliar with its instruments. High school performers - despite their giggles, gossip, and texts - are able to play a recognizable melody (and if they can't, their insecurities make them play softly). But grade school kids have yet to develop puberty-embarrassment, so they merrily saw through "Silent Night" as though they were cutting their instruments in half. And the parents go wild. And the cringe-inducing songs only add to the gaggles of kids, teens, parents, and teachers who are already in the store doing crowd control. Honestly, I finally understand how David Sedaris got his idea for Front Row Center With Thatteus Bristol. He must have worked in a bookstore at some point.

I hold J K Rowling for the newest evolution in bookstore bookdrives: THEME DAYS. Theme days started 10 years ago with the events leading up to the latest Harry Potter book, and slowly increased in frequency with Twilight parties, Wimpy Kid days, and company-wide in-store events dedicated to Star Wars, Angry Birds, and a few weeks ago, The Hunger Games. With all these themes, it was only a matter of time that lowbrow pop culture would begin to work its way into the mix, and in a bookfair last week, I was in charge of the Duck Dynasty event...for the sole reason that I owned a pair of camos.

(Ahem.)

Little did anyone know that I was actually wearing fetish gear :)

So, between the music, costumes, and swarms of unsupervised kids, teens, and adults, it's no wonder that somebody tagged Thomas. Our next themed event is a Downton Abbey party; I'm toying with coming in dressed as Maggie Smith, just so I can be rude to people. Of course, as we've all seen from the show, those who live upstairs often behave the worst of all.

Something tells me that once the Downton party is over, urine won't be the worst thing we find in Thomas's roundhouse...

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Death to God's Creatures

11/16/2013

7 Comments

I'm watching American Horror Story in my living room when a mouse runs across the floor. It was a good-sized thing, nimble and brazen, and it bounced like a pinball from couch - to coffee table - to loveseat to the bookcase - all by the light of Jessica Lange on TV. My eyes narrowed in the darkness. Every Goddamn November, I thought.

Mice in fall are one of the joys of owning an old house, so I learned to keep traps on hand. They typically come inside when the weather turns cold, and I've found it best to keep food sealed in Tupperware, stored on high shelves or in cabinets this time of year. But just because mice are expected doesn't mean that they're are welcome, and rodents in the fall - like houseflies in the summer - are disgusting little critters that poop in places they shouldn't. And feces outweighs cuteness, no matter how you look at it.

When it comes to traditional mouse traps, my favorite bait to use is a mixture of peanut butter and cheese. I spread the peanut butter on first, using it as a glue to keep the cheese in place. When the mixture dries, the bait hardens - causing the mouse to have to "tug" at the cheese, giggling the mechanism and springing the trap. This arrangement has been successful almost every time I've used it, so I put together four such traps and spread them throughout the kitchen, in the places I'd found mouse poop. Satisfied, I went to bed.

The next morning however, I'd found that the mouse had eaten the cheese without setting the traps. And again, the next morning, even when I'd tied the cheese to the traps. It was time to bring out the big guns -

It was time for the GLUE TRAPS.

There's a Family Dollar within walking distance of my house, and they sell everything from food to drugs. They also sell hardware - pest control in particular - so I walked to the store to buy something to kill the mice. I was surprised at their selection of rodent control - and a good once third of their shelf space was devoted to glue traps for both mice & rats. Nice, I thought. My neighborhood store has a bigger selection of rodent control than it does for potato chips. But that actually worked to my benefit when I opted for "rat" traps (rather than "mouse" traps), because they had a bigger surface area - and a bigger chance for success.

So, I bought the rat-sized traps. And I also picked up some frozen chicken strips for dinner. Chiuckling…the sassy black cashier gave me a "look" when I set them both down on the counter. "Err…I don't have rats," I assured her. "I…I…I just have a mouse in my kitchen." "Mmm-hmm," she said (clearly disbelieving), before putting my chicken in the same bag as my rat traps.

I left the store in shame.

BTW, I found THIS in the rat trap box:

It's nice to know that the poison is sealed for FRESHNESS.

There's not much more to tell in this story. I caught the mouse, I cleaned up the poop, and fall merrily continued.

The one side note I will share with you is a little gruesome: The mouse was still alive in the trap (of course), so before I tossed it in the trash (in an effort to be "somewhat" humane), I folded the glue tray in half with the mouse inside, and squished everything into a mouse n' glue taco.

It sounded crunchy.

7 Comments

He Films You When You're Sleeping...

Thomas the Toilet

Death to God's Creatures

Dave'sBlogArchive2013 - 2018A Gay Man's Life in the Suburbs - and Beyond.

Dave's
Blog
Archive
2013 - 2018

A Gay Man's Life in the Suburbs - and Beyond.