Twat did you say?

Whew! End of the year is b-a-n-a-n-a-s, no? But I simply cannot wait for Xmas- I LOVE giving presents! Caved in to the Apple brainwashing and picked up a Nano w/ portable speaker system for my hunny. He's gonna flip.

An-t-way, here's the thought I tried to get out last week:

Listening to the local classic rock station on the way home- DJ announces birthdays- Don King. Proceeds to tell the story of meeting him shortly after 9/11. DJ's in the lobby of a hotel, waiting to interview Enrique Iglesias when Mr. King walks in, holding two flags, smokin a big stogie and announces, "God bless America! It's a good day to be alive!"

Says hello to the DJ- he loves The Beatles, invites him for a drink at the bar. Then invites him to dinner. DJ explains Enrique situation, DK says to bring him along and they'll have a good old time.

At the end of the story, the DJ explains, "It was totally surreal. And at the end of the night, I checked to see if I still had my watch." -cut to commercial.

UM, WHAT?

Which reminded me-

A Dirty Shame had it's moments. But I felt as if John Waters underlined the statment he's made so well in the past. I'm sure he picked Knoxville because in an interview, he called the Jackass crew "sexual terrorists." In a good way, natch. For those who did not see the movie- people against sexual expression were called "neuters." And it took place in Maryland.

My best friend from high school, Marybeth, was a virgin for the longest. Once, she didn't let a guy go down on her because she was "wearing stupid underwear." At least that was the excuse she gave me. She finally gave it up to a mutual friend's roommate.

"It was like trying to fit the Goodyear Blimp through that window." However egomaniacal the description, as a six foot five Greek man, I'm sure it wasn't far from the truth.

Her parents did a number on her. I remember her mother's advice (no doubt for my benefit) saying masturbation paved the road to hell. At the moment, I can't remember the context- probably traumaticly blocked out. She also said that if you let glasses air dry in the dish drain, you'll get rickets.

Marybeth slept with my boyfriend and that was the end of our friendship. He took her to get a perm one Saturday....yes, a perm... we didn't have a car. An amazing snow storm hit and everything shut down around 3pm. Around nine o'clock, she comes strolling in- her hair looking like Rosanne Rosanna Danna. Before she could set foot in the door, I was there, "Did you fuck him?"

Taken-a-back by the question, she immediately denied it.

I reiterated, "Tell me now and we can still be friends," which was the truth. But she stuck to the bullshit story about the car breaking down.

A few months later, my cousin and I stopped by Maryland to visit her, since she lived with her parents at the time (cousin and I moved to Florida for very three months). She sobbingly confessed to schtupping my man. So I was done with her. I don't take kindly to people making me look like a jerk.

But beforehand, we had dinner.

Her parents ordered a couple of buckets of chicken, all the fixins. Out of nowhere, the father asked the brother, "Know why a stack of white bread comes with it?" Probably for my benefit, again.

He continued, "Because that's what the niggers eat with their meals."

UM, WHAT?