Sunday, August 11, 2013

melanie griffith


melanie griffith asked me to come with her to an appointment because she needed support. when we arrived, i saw that we were at the office of her cosmetic surgeons. i said. 'i thought you promised antonio you wouldn't have any more procedures? 'don't tell antonio!' she begged. 'these are my friends, i'll have them do anything you want for free if you keep my secret! ' at 1st i thought it was just pure crazy, but then i realized that she was so far on the other side of a healthy body image that nothing i said would make a dent anyway- plus it was a tantalizing proposition since her surgeons were the swanky secret 'star' plastic surgeons and hey, when would i get an offer like that again? melanie was immediately ushered away and i sat down and started to flip through their 'look books'. hmmm, maybe i would like a tiny but off my nose and while they were at it, maybe they could use that new ultra frequency wand thing from france to make my neck all silky like naked lamb skin. within minutes i was speaking with 3 surgeons. 'which ever one of you is the least invasive with the most natural results is the person i'd like to talk to.' i said. they all looked at each other as though i had just ordered ketchup to pour over filet mignon. each one glanced at the door of the room that held melanie, then on cue began to give me a head spinning sales pitch about how they would make 'a new me'. 'i don't want a new me' i said. 'of course you do!' they all answered in unison. at that moment, my friend scott breezed through the door and slipped his arm into mine pulling me to my feet and led me out of the room. 'oh darling, you don't need any of this shit! let's go to the car!' when we got to my car, one of the office girls was shoving a vacuum wand into my tail pipe. 'what are you doing?!' i asked. 'i'm trying to get the muskrats out of your exhaust!' she answered as she jammed the wand further up my pipe. the sucking noise was so loud i had to yell, 'i don't have muskrats in my exhaust!' i insisted. 'yes,' she said, 'i know- but i did once, so i just like to always make sure other people don't!'. scott shooed her away and told me to lock my door when i slipped inside my car. i left melanie there and watched scott wave goodbye in my rear-view mirror.

5 Comments:

At August 12, 2013 at 3:20 PM , Blogger Greenpa said...

Oh, I really, really want to use the "muskrats in your tailpipe" line! Cracked me up. :-)

 
At August 13, 2013 at 9:12 PM , Blogger shandra beri said...

Something is obviously seriously wrong with my brain...

:P

 
At August 17, 2013 at 5:30 AM , Blogger Greenpa said...

Oh, I haven't seen any evidence of that here. :-) Rather I see a convergence with the way my own brain works- which fairly frequently startles those around me, by seeing words and objects in a Rorschach kind of way, with frequently skewed outcomes. Last night for example, my wife asked me if I wanted two more kittens in my lap to add to the teenage cat already occupying me- and I came up with an "are you out of your mind" face and "I'm already caturated here." That one hadn't ever popped into my loosely attached meninges before, and it cracked her up for a good half hour. Fun to see where it goes, and sometimes maybe even useful. I'm enjoying watching yours. :-)

 
At August 18, 2013 at 8:02 AM , Blogger shandra beri said...

Caturated...lol. Sounds enviably cozy in the boonies! My absence is due to excessive daily activity (which I firmly believe is Wrong Living...). I find I can't always remember my dreams if I catapult (no pun intended) out of bed at O'dark thirty. Did you know I have a waking mind blog as well? (http://thistrinket.blogspot.com/) Talk about Rorschach. It's like a salad bar between eyes and ears.

Thanks for checking in. :)

 
At August 20, 2013 at 1:16 PM , Blogger Greenpa said...

Ah, there's strife in the boonies, too. I work at not letting it get me. One of my favorite old writers is Robert Benchley; Peter's father; in one of his essays he makes a twist on the old description of life's struggles to "keep the wolf from the door" - into: he works hard as his writing- to keep the wolf from getting into the upstairs bedrooms.

Bang on.

I intend to keep checking in; I enjoy it. :-)

 

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