SPT: What part…

May 1, 2006 at 4:38 pm (Sock Puppet Theater, The Enlightening Ones)

…of "Mind your own fucking business," does H'sMa NOT understand? I'll tell you about the afternoon before she blessedly tottered out of the house, and perhaps you can tell me.

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SPT: Don’t eat the soup

January 17, 2006 at 10:22 am (Funny Shit, Sock Puppet Theater, The Enlightening Ones)

As we begin Sock Puppet Theatre, once again H'sMa has again taken it upon herself to see how long it will take to piss me off. Yesterday's topic: You need to eat. Keep in mind that anyone who has seen the size of my ass is certain this should never need to be a topic.

H'sMa: So, Serra, whatdayawant for lunch?
Me: Uh, I'm not hungry Ma.
H'sMa: But you need to eat.
Me: Sighs…I'm not hungry.
H'sMa: How about some of the vegetable beef soup I made yesterday?
Me: You mean the stuff in the crock pot?
H'sMa: Yes, certainly–it sure smelled good yesterday, didn't it?

Me contemplates the fact that not only did it smell like ASS yesterday but that the ass soup sat in the crock pot on the counter from the time she turned it off until now, sans refrigeration. Me shudders.

Me: Stepping up the bitch factor in my voice…I said I wasn't hungry Ma.
H'sMa: But you need to eat.

Me gives up. Just sounding bitchy about the subject of food isn't going to work. Me is going to have to 'splain to Loosey why she can't be in the show at the club.

Me: Ma, did you ever put that soup away yesterday?
H'sMa: No, of course not, it's in the crock pot on the counter.
Me: Then it's no good anymore. Things like that need to be refrigerated.
H'sMa: Heavy on the scorn…No it does NOT! It's BEEN cooked, you know.
Me: Yes, Ma, it does. Between the protein and the water, it's a perfect place to grow things that cause food poisoning.
H'sMa: Oh, no it's not, you're just not thinking…
Me: Fine. Eat all you want, but I'm not touching it.
H'sMa: Well! Huffy and dramatic…I make nice food and you…
Me: Refuse to get sick again just to be nice and avoid fighting with you. I'm going upstairs.

Aaaand, scene.

The soup is still sitting on the counter. The guys, notorious for eating anything, have not braved opening the lid. That shit's three days old now. I'm not even lifting that lid to throw it out, at least not without a cattle prod and a cage handy. It's H'sMa's monster; SHE can tame it enough to make it go away.

I'm sticking with things I see come out of cans JUST before I eat them from now on! Fortunately Honey brought home six cans of Campbell's Tomato so I'm good for a week.

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SPT: One Less

November 27, 2005 at 8:26 pm (Sock Puppet Theater, The Enlightening Ones)

Cast: SSS, H'sMa in Kitchen. Honey in living room, having a post-work veg-out. Garand upstairs; you don't want to know what he's doing since he had the porn machine running constantly all day downloading…you don't want to know.

SSS: Contemplating yet another box separated from the long endless parade of boxes scattered throughout the house…Is anyone romantically involved with the box we got Turkey Killin' Day Dinner in?
H'sMa: Nope.
SSS: Good. Means I don't have to wait around for someone to kiss its ass goodbye. She tears it apart and it joins its broken-down mates, awaiting garbage pickup.


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Sock Puppet Theater: Puppy Luv

September 25, 2005 at 8:17 pm (Funny Shit, Sock Puppet Theater)

*I know, another rerun…but this is a good’un, and I can’t find any news stories about someone dumbfucked enough to arse myself to blog about.

MooCow once again gets me thinking, as he always does, between changes of my pants and mopping coffee spewed onto my monitor.

Large happy dog is at the bottom of the bed. Honey is on the bed, still wearing work pants. I’m nursing a backache.

Honey: Ooooh! Look! Wook at da widdle puppy!!
Me: Awwww, lookit dat FACE!! What a cute FACE! Zeeeeeke!
Honey: Zeeeeeeeeeke!

Large happy black hairy dog jumps on bed.

Honey: No, boy, get back down. Daddy can’t love you with his pants on.

Twenty minutes of incapacitating laughter, horrible jokes about man-puppy luuuuuuuuv, and two coughing fits later…

Honey: This is gonna wind up on your blog, isn’t it SSS?

I wuv you Honey! Really I do!

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Look What The Cat Dragged In

June 29, 2005 at 11:36 am (Other Bloggers, Sock Puppet Theater)

In honor of MooCow's return to us here in the blogosphere, I present my own poor version of Sock Puppet Theater. No one beats the Master at this, but I offer my own puny tribute.

Garand: Opening bedroom door sans knock…SSS, there's someone here to see you.
Me: HUH?
Garand: He's about this tall…holding hand several inches above head
Me: Who in the Hell…
Garand: …and about this wide…
Me: Honey's home?
Garand: Nods, not sure if he should smile or not
Me: MOVE! Trying not to shove Garand out of the way while I go find out what in blue Hell Honey's doing home.

Yep, he's home–thanks to a recruiter who lied to him long enough to get him to accept the out-of-state job, then hung his wonderful butt out to dry. I would love to own a new pair of earrings–made from the shrunken, skewered, brass-plated balls of that recruiter. I've a feeling someone's about to lose a contract, thanks to Honey not being the only man saying, "Fuck this shit–I quit!"

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Tales from the Back Door: SPT

May 26, 2005 at 10:31 am (Back Door Tales, Sock Puppet Theater)

Some guys just have a deathwish. Although the guy's not too bright, he does make excellent Sock Puppet Theater.

Tending bar one busy night, watching a drunk, out-of-place kind of guy stumble up to the rail

Me: What can I get you?
Him: A beer and a woman.
Me: You do realize this bar is an alternative lifestyle establishment?
Him: Yeah, but I heard straight women LUV gay men, so…

I let the comment slide, get the silly man a beer and let him go strike out on his own. The story picks up two hours later, after he's apparently asked if there's ANY straight women in the place.

Him: Hi.
Me: Another beer?
Him: Yeah, and your phone number.
Me: Sorry, I'm taken.
Him: I know you're straight.
Me: Yep–straight. And taken. I have a boyfriend.
Him: Yeah, but…
Me: But nothing, dude, I'm not interested. Sorry.

Another hour later, I take a break from the bar and head for the ladies' room…only to find Him following me…closely.

Him: I want YOU, baby!
Me: I'm not your baby and the feeling's not mutual, so…turning to go into the ladies' room
Him: Can I eat you in the bathroom? Preparing to follow me into the ladies' room.

Audible thud as silly motherfucker hits the wall 10 feet away from the bathroom. Wild applause as every woman in the place breaks into cheering!


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Sock Puppet Theater: The Jar

May 20, 2005 at 2:42 pm (Sock Puppet Theater)

Scene 1:

H'sMa: Peering at the Mason jar on my computer desk. What's in there?
Me: It's pee, Ma.
H's Ma: Peering at it again, doubtful look on face. Whatcha gonna do with it?
Me: I'm kidding, Ma. It's not pee.

Scene 2:

Garand: Peering at the Mason jar on my computer desk What's in there?
Me: It's Pee, G.
Garand: Oh. Whatcha gonna do with it?
Me: I'm going to list it on eBay.
Garand: doubtful look
Me: I'm kidding.

FOR THE RECORD, the Mason jar contains…

wait for it…

Sandalwood Fragrance oil. My supplier Rita was out of her usual shipping bottles, so I got the pwetty glass one.

Oh, quit. You thought it was pee too.

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