The Cleveland In-Dians

8:42am
B-Trip: Home

Morning D was typical. But a few hours later something decidedly atypical took place.

I was in the b-trip when I heard some rustling outside. So I flung open the windows...and could not believe what I saw:

A 60-year old woman Taking D -- not 10 feet away -- on my neighbor's lawn.

Our driveway separates our place from the neighbor's to the north. This woman had positioned herself strategically between their windows with her bum facing their house. She was relatively hidden from the street due to a car parked in our driveway, so really the only person who could have seen her was me.

And did I ever.

I had only just begun to process what I was seeing when she let loose. Imagine turds plopping from a horse. I recoiled, but couldn't help taking another glance. She was dressed in what could have been her Sunday best, but with her bloomers around her calves and her skirt hiked up. In her hand she held a napkin or baby wipe to clean up.

My first instinct was to shout at her, but the events unfolding were so strange I instead raced to find Elle so she could bear witness (Editor's Note: She loves bearing witness almost as much as Heather from 'Rock of Love' enjoys bearing her 'tatters'.). But by the time we got back, the phantom dooker was gone. In her place, just a simple pile on the ground modestly covered by the napkin.

We raced to the front of the house and found the lady walking down the street, nonchalantly away from our house. Perhaps the most puzzling aspect was that she didn't look homeless. Just looked like any other lady. Any other lady with a deep, dark secret.

For the next few minutes, Elle and I took guesses as to what possible caused such strange and horrible event. Had this woman been wronged in some way by our neighbors and was now exacting an unholy revenge? Or was the answer more straightforward? As loyal readers know, I once had an extremely close call. Had the pizza place I went on to destroy not been open, I suppose I could have found myself in a similar predicament.

That hypothesis seemed to be confirmed when the lady headed back our way a few minutes later with a plastic bag in her hand. Clearly, she was coming to scoop her own poop. Elle and I took positions as the lady took a determined turn up our driveway.

But to our surprise, she walked right past her pile toward the back of our place. Was she making sure the coast was clear for some reason? But a minute later she walked right by again, back out onto the street. Then we watched her walk up the neighbor's driveway. Then another neighbor's driveway. Always with the same sense of purpose, but undeniably lost.

It was at this point we determined the lady was suffering from some sort of mental distress. Perhaps she needed help getting home. Clearly somebody needed to be keeping an eye on her. So I put on some shoes to go see if she needed help, all the while formulating how I would subtly shift to evade her shit-crusted hands should they reach in my direction.

But, like teenage romance, somehow she disappeared on me. I searched driveways and courtyards down the block, but she was nowhere to be found. Only her D remained (until later that day when the neighbor's groundskeeper apparently handled that abhorrent task).

Elle claims to have seen the woman wandering aimlessly a few weeks ago. Perhaps she was casing the joint. More likely, she was just being crazy. We are determined to solve this mystery, so I hope to be back with more answers soon.


11:01pm
B-Trip: Home

Reading column from yesterday's LA Times about the preponderance of anti-God books. Take that, God!

http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/sunday/commentary/la-op-siegel7oct07,0,5846932.story?coll=la-sunday-commentary

I tend to side with Kurt Vonnegut on this matter, whose tombstone reads: 'The only proof I needed for the existence of God was music.'

We need to remember that the Lord works in mysterious ways. I didn't understand at the time that an old lady dropping a nasty deuce outside my window this morning meant that the Yankees' season would soon be over. But sure enough...

I wonder what He has in store next week when the Red Sox are sent packing.

If it's true that you can's spell 'World Series' without the 'D', it's looking like D'backs/'Dians to me.

Straight Hip Hop

8:31am
B-Trip: Home

Opened up my email this morning to discover Roscoe sent me the lyrics to his brilliant new hip hop jam 'Vitamin Deez (In Your Mouth)', extolling the virtues of drinking milk. Some of my favorite lines:

"Keep your bones strong now, even when you’re old
May not want to do it, but you’ll do what you’re told"

...as well as...

"When a milkshake born, then a milkshake dies
And yeah, my girl Kelis got a supersize
With her big bootie shakin till the sun don’t rise"

Ah, yes....til the sun don't rise, which I imagine means that bootie shakes til right around high noon.

Anyway, reading Roscoe's poetry got my mind in a rhythmic state. Thus, I've been coming up with a little something of my own while sitting here:

Laugh so hard you fall out your seat
Like a drunk-ass bastard, like my Uncle Pete
Shit's going worldwide...from Des Moines to Crete
Fools-who-step-up go down in defeat
I’m regulatin' busters like chaff from wheat
Yo, screw the '94 season. Shit was incomplete
And fuck them hands in the air, I WANNA SEE YA’LL FEET
Errbody doin' HEADSTANDS on the street
But when the party's over lather, rinse, repeat
For-now,-though, continue sucklin' my lyrical teat.

Like climate change, you can't stop the beat
So when Al emails, just click delete
Accidentally packed 'cold', I meant to grab the heat
Guess I gotta pay for anything I eat.

Excuse me if you will for being indiscreet
I know this shorty who just hooked up with Skeet.
She called him semisweet with 30-thread count sheets
But there’s a mutha fugga I don’t wanna meet.
Put him on the-list-with-the-boys of Backstreet.
She-said he’s not exactly a decathlete.
Somewhat effete, almost obsolete
And just to make sure Skeet did not secrete
He wore a parachute upon his parakeet

5:48am
B-Trip: Home

Elle and I are off to the Hollywood Forever cemetery to have a picnic with friends and watch ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST projected on the side of a mausoleum. The b-trip scenario under such circumstances is anybody's guess, so it's best to take preemptive action.

I.A.E.A.

9:38am
B-Trip: Home

Morning D is not exactly forthcoming. I blame yesterday's quartet.

Reading Jonathan Chait column about Hillary Clinton's voodoo.


5:33pm
B-Trip: Home

Nothing says "Hip Dude" than spending one's D reading a nuclear watchdog editorial!


11:29pm
B-Trip: Home

It's a chilly night, but the space heater makes this D warm & toasty as I peck away at an old crossword puzzle.

D-Parted

8:21am
B-Trip: Home

Took D atop the toilet paper lily pad Elle must have left after peeing in the middle of the night.

The caliber of D that resulted should make you, the reader, glad blogs don't come in scratch 'n sniff form.

Reading a fascinating story about an inside man who brought down one of Columbia's biggest drug cartels.


11:03am
B-Trip: Home

Followup D.

Didn't want to. Didn't have a choice.


2:22pm
B-Trip: Home

You hate to see this happen to good people....

Halfway through my shower, I realized I had to Take D.

Thus, my fresh-out-of-the-shower feeling lasted approximately 30 seconds today.


9:54pm
B-Trip: Home

The big winner tonight (or at least one of them) was THE DEPARTED.

I still believe this is an overrated film -- closer to the BRINGING OUT THE DEAD/KUNDUN end of Scorsese's career spectrum than the GOODFELLAS/"Mirror Mirror" episode of Amazing Stories/'Bad' video pot of gold.

And I'm not just saying that because I was totally let down to find that the movie had nothing to do with the Taking (nor Parting) of D.

Tonight's cinematic celebration does have me thinking about the Best D's in Motion Picture History.

Three immediately come to my mind:

PULP FICTION

Vincent Vega (John Travolta) gets a chestful of hot metal after Butch (Bruce Willis) discovers him in his apartment.

What was VV doing? Taking D, of course.

DUMB & DUMBER

Lloyd (Jim Carrey) sabotages Harry's (Jeff Daniels) date by slipping some 'Turbo Lax' into his tea.

Daniels' outrageous gastrointestinal pyrotechnics will never cease to put a smile on my face.


JURASSIC PARK

The dastardly lawyer Gennaro (Martin Ferraro) meets his unfortunate -- yet cheer-inducing -- end when the T-Rex catches him helplessly Taking D in an outhouse.



These are just three scenes that immediately come to mind. I suspect this is a topic I'll return to regularly as other classic instances of cinematic D Taking occur to me.

And of course, please feel free to suggest your own personal favorites.

Waiving the Corkage Fee

8:33am
B-Trip: Home

Robust up front, with subtle notes of tuna and an ambiguous finish.

Consider me your fecal sommelier.


10:27am
B-Trip: Home

Followup D's wait for no man.

Reading an interesting LA Times editorial about Bush/Clinton dynasties. (Unfortunately it has already been yanked from their website.)

The editorial essentially wondered why Americans would entertain the notion of 28 consecutive years of Bush-Clinton-Bush-Clinton presidencies. (With Jeb Bush waiting in the wings in 2012!).

It would be helpful if Hillary addressed this issue head on. Even if she IS the right person for the job, will she be bringing back a flock of '90's retreads with old scores to settle? God, I hope not.

Washington could use some fresh ideas right about now.


6:38pm
B-Trip: Home

File this one under: Preventative D.

With two parties to attend tonight, Elle and I are in a hurry. But as we prepared to leave, it occurred to me I may not make through both without the urge to Take D striking at the most inconvenient time.

So at this moment I'm taking steps to remove D from tonight's equation. Meanwhile, Elle is essentially standing outside the B-Trip tapping her foot. It goes without saying these are not particularly desirable circumstances under which to Take D. However, it sure beats 'hunkering down' at a cocktail party and emerging to find a half dozen guests cued up outside the door like unwitting lambs awaiting the slaughter.

(Editor's note: this turned out to be a wise move since the first party we attended inexplicably featured three different kinds of chili.)

Just Like The Movies....

8:52am
B-Trip: Home

Some D's are just rarin' to go. No nuance. No interest in being coy...

I've just unleashed a highly-efficient carpet bombing that exhausted my entire armory in about ten seconds.

Just like that. Quick. Easy. A snap.

But was it a little too easy? Surely that can't be everything. Perhaps there's a SigAlert in my sigmoid colon. (this bit of esoteric Southern Cali humor is brought to you in part by El Pollo Loco!).

So I sit.....waiting.....but nothing ever comes.

I could have been on my way like a certain Bruckheimer movie. But no, I spent the next five minutes convinced something else would happen, but it never did.

The entire experience is a lot like shooting a movie. After all the time spent lighting, grooming the stars, arranging the extras, choreographing the camera moves, etc. it's finally 'Go Time'. Once everyone is in place, the director calls "ACTION!"

And every once in a while...it all goes perfectly.

The actors nailed the scene. The sound guy is happy. Camera is, too. Everyone huddles around the video playback monitor to watch the take because, c'mon, could it really have been that easy?

But it was. It just worked out. That shot will definitely be the one used in the movie.

But without fail, the 1st A.D. will toss out: "Wanna get one more? You know...for safety?" The director will comply (after all, by now everyone's in place to do it again).

So you do it again, but this time someone in the background stumbles.

CUT!!

Take 3: A plane flies over, rendering the actors' dialogue useless.

CUT!!

Take 4: Someone's cell phone rings, throwing everyone off.

CUT!!

You spend another ninety minutes trying to recapture the magic of that first take. Eventually it makes no sense to continue so you move on and wonder why you just wasted all that time.

D's like this one have Hollywood written all over them.


3:55pm
B-Trip: Home

If you ever want to get depressed, read today's LA Times article about Jim Carrey.

Yes, he's got a terrible movie opening today (a mere 9% on rottentomatoes.com), but that doesn't warrant this piece about his efforts to "define the universe".

That's something I wish he'd be doing on his own time. Once he defines it I'll be all ears, but for now, in my newspaper or at the multiplex, I'd prefer he just make me laugh. He's got unbelievable talent as a performer, but comedic ability is quickly tarnished if your audience comes to equate you with somber topics.

Just ask the least funny comedian on planet Earth.

And I don't want to get personal, but if you're searching for the meaning of life...is Jenny McCarthy really the person you want riding shotgun?

She's messing with you, Jim. Cut her loose and cheer up.


9:59pm
B-Trip: Home

Freezing outside tonight. That's the reason Elle & I keep the Vornado heater in the B-Trip.

It's always there when you need it to makes your D warm & toasty.

B-Trippin'

8:33am
B-Trip: Las Vegas Hilton (Room 1766)

Though this B-trip may be nothing to blog about, but I'd be remiss not to mention its power flush.

It's something to behold.

If you were to flush while still seated, you'd easily be sucked in. That's the caliber I'm talking about here. The flush not only takes your D, but all of the oxygen in the B-Trip (which is not always a bad thing since, by the time you're ready to flush, the oxygen don't always smell so nice.)

But why, you ask, is such strength remotely necessary?

Well, it makes sense if you think about it. Your D is embarking on a seventeen-story journey. Gravity alone simply won't do in this case because the aforementioned has to pass through a tantalizing gauntlet: The Star Trek Museum, Barry Manilow, Joe Piscopo, Menopause: The Musical, all of which are featured in the lobby.

You don't want the D to get sidetracked. After all, like attracts like.

But kidding aside, I suspect the wise-cracking subcontractors who built this room wanted to present visitors with a gentle reminder about the effect casinos have on your wallet.

And how.