My favorite form of punctuation is the ellipse. Because so...much can happen betwixt those three little dots...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Itchy is a vampire
My face hurts. My face muscles are literally going into spasms. Seriously. That is how much I laughed last night. Head thrown back cackling that makes the table across from us look over.
Maybe it's because Itchy is still on steroids for her rash that makes her so hilarious, but dang. I haven't laughed so hard in a long long time.
It actually sounded foreign to me, my laugh. I forgot how loud it can be. How much like a cackle. A voice burst. It's sort of embarrassing...
Ok, but Itchy is a vampire. This is what she ate for dinner. A bloody steak. As in actual blood. As in so rare it still had that flesh colored haze to it. She didn't touch her vegetables or her mashed potatoes. Itchy is a vampire. You heard it here first.
Her husband bought my dinner. I love him. And his goatee. He is sexy.
So is Itchy. I didn't notice the hard nipple problem that she was complaining of last week. Did I just admit that I checked out Itchy's tits? Yes. Yes I did. Twice.
You guys. They are so funny. Did I say that? They need to start their own sit com. The banter they bounce off each other, the story growing bigger and bigger as it goes from one to the other the goofiness in each of them and they're so cute and in love and dorky. Yay!
You have to get Itchy to tell you about the evil doll at their bed and breakfast...and how the evil doll has no upper body strength.
Did I tell you that her husband bought my dinner? So nice.
And it was a perfect night and we were on the water next to this giant pirate boat and I didn't break anything or spill anything I just got sweat rings which are unsightly but forgivable and I held off telling barf stories until after dinner, so that made me proud.
But here is where I give you folks a word of caution. You people that I'm planning on visiting on my road trip.
There is a common misconception that hanging out with an actor is incredibly entertaining. As though one could sit down with them and just watch them and be entertained. This is not the case. Chances are you are cooler than me. Repeat that out loud to yourself: Chances are I'm cooler than Plimco. I'd much rather listen to you tell stories about your wacky family or odd jobs you've had or how you have an irrational fear of spiders and staircases or your SCUBA diving license. The only thing that is actor-ish about me is that I am an active listener. Talk to me. Please? You talk. I'll observe you and the manner in which you tell your stories and pick out bits to encourage you. If you ask me open ended questions such as, "Tell me about the theatre", I will most certainly clam up and shift in my seat and try with all my might to flip the conversation back around to you. You are far more interesting. Ok? Do we have that straight? Good.
Most actors do like to talk about themselves. They like to have the social attention, everyone hanging on their every word. I'm not that kind.
My cheek muscles are seriously going into convulsions.
Oh and another thing. If you ever find yourself at a stop light in Salem and some hot pink haired lady crosses the street in front of you and she's wearing all black and looking morose, if you say out loud to yourself in the safety of your car, "She's a witch! Burn her! Burn her!" because you think you are funny and you are quoting from that movie. If when you pull out into the intersection and a car screetches to a halt and almost bashes into you and you almost die, do not be surprised. Witches are to be respected. Not burnt. Even in jest. That is what I've learned.
That and also, you guys? Itchy is a vampire.
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I did too eat some of the mashed potatoes. Uh huh...
And my nips were hidden under a slightly padded bra. They are out today. Crazy nips. And I totally checked you out, too. Yes I did. That's why I really wanted a picture...
Ha! I was wearing a super padded push em up bra just to give you the illusion that I had fantastic gigantic breasts. They do look kind of nice in that picture...
And you did NOT touch your potatoes. I remember coveting them. They were better than that orzo or whatever the hell that was that I had instead of potatoes. Our little waiter said, "Are you done?" And you said, "Yes, all through" and I silently screamed NOOOOOOOO!!! As your precious untouched potatoes and vegetables were lifted away from me...
Vampire.
They look super nice in the picture. I look at it often. ahem...I mean...yeah, I didn't really notice your perfect breasts at all...
And yes I did eat a little of the 'taters. They were cold and not that great. You should have spoken up. I wouldn't have bit you. I had my bloody steak to keep me happy.