Saturday, July 15, 2006

If Car Interiors Could Talk, What Would They Say?

Nothing follows up an entry on Islam better than a post with a little Jewish flavor to it. Yep, this blog absolutely meets stringent Kosher standards. Ahhh, but at least the two sides can co-exist peacefully here, at the home of The Smiling Infidel. Are you feeling the love, people?

Yesterday, we were in hot pursuit of an affordable bowling alley. Since when did the favorite sport of American white trash become so frickin expensive? So, we passed a building under construction with a lot of workers on top of the roof. My 8 year old son, excitedly called out, "Look at those guys on the roof Mom; but how come none of them have a fiddle in their hands"? Maybe this is a sign that we should lay off musicals for awhile or my son is going to catch the flaming gay virus, for sure. We watched the teen girly movie, Aquamarine, yesterday, and he proclaimed it his favorite movie of all time. I'm locking up my Streisand, Cher, and Erasure CD's, post haste!

I took my oldest daughter to work with me on Wednesday, and about a mile from our house, drove by a lady dizzily walking along the side of the road. From the look of the garish makeup deep in her wrinkles, and frizzy, bleached blonde hair, I'd put her age at a very minimum of a haggard 50. This woman had on denim shorts so teensy, her butt cheeks drooped out of both sides, and she wore a rainbowed tie dye T-shirt.........knotted in the front, thus exposing her pierced and stretch marked belly. She also had a lit cigarette dangling out of her mouth, and little red leather stiletto boots on. Quite a vision of demure loveliness. My daughter turned to me, aghast, and asked, "Mom, don't they have age limits in prostitution"?

Lastly, while driving and listening to the talk radio recap of the NASA space shuttle LIFTOFF last week, I felt that rumbly, tumbly feeling start. What could I do? I leaned over gently to the side and released my inner fart. Wow, that like, totally rhymes! My poor children were laughing and gagging simultaneously when I announced, "Houston, we have LIFTUP"!


the flying monkeys said...

what if it said...."you must be having such an interesting time"

Thanks for sharing this.

jams o donnell said...

Ah, my own favourite expression is "More tea vicar?", said as I gas people with Di-Nitrogen Fartoxide!

What wuld my car say? it would be something dull, like !how about cleaning me, you idle -----?"

mullet said...

So you did see me dizzily walking down the street!

Moi said...

Wow, you could start your own sound effects business. Tell them your best impression is of the space shuttle lift off. That'll impress them.

omar said...

Sadly, there's a market out there for prostitutes of all ages.

And feed that boy some beef jerky or something, STAT.

Radioactive Jam said...

Your description of the bleached blonde walkin' woman created a mental image so detailed and vibrant, it's practically alive. I feel like I need a total brainwashing just to regain my sanity, never mind a sense of inner peace.

More importantly, how did the bowling go?

elasticwaistbandlady said...

obokun, The interior of your car may be saying that, but the interior of OUR car is constantly begging for more pine tree air fresheners to hang on the rearview mirror.

I hope the not wife owns a standard issue gas mask capable of protecting her from the deadle effects of Fartoxide. Tell me, jams, can people finger dirty messages into the dust crusted on the outside of your car? I LOVE doing that!

Well, I have to say, at least you didn't have a mullet; mullet.

My best sound effect is of a contestant at a refried bean eating contest. I'd hate to vary my routine.

Sage advice, Omar. If anyone can teach him how to be a manly man, it's me! I'll show him all the basics; growing man hairs on the upper lip, scratching, belching, throwing dirty clothes on the floor instead of the hamper.

radioactive, I would politely categorize that lady as being "bargain basement priced". A few shakedowns to get the loose change from the sofa, and she's yours for the whole afternoon. Thanks to gutter guards, my 3 year old beat us all with a 105. I tied for third place. It was hard to see to bowl through my tears. Paying 23.00 for an hour of bowling will do that to you.

Elizabeth-W said...

For the climate controlled comfort of the bowling alley, that price may have been worth it.
How about next week go to the Galleria and go ice-skating?? Then you can stealth poot on people as you glide by--everyone staggering in your wake--then you and the kiddos would have the rink to yourselves--just an idea.

christo said...

Some people have no shame. I saw this lady with the fakest of eyebrows, the silliest of hairstyles ala Marge Simpson, wearing leopard leoards and a bustier that made me thankful she's not my mother.

I'm sorry for her son.

elasticwaistbandlady said...

Stealth pooting requires camouflage commando gear,elizabeth. Sadly, I only have an olive green safari hat in my collection. Maybe it's time to hit Colonel Bubbie's Army Surplus Store? Stock up on some gas masks while I'm there. Just the survival essentials.

Christo, Glad to know that shameless hussies are a universal thing, and that the fine citizens of Malaysia need a supply of eye bleach too. You can never have enough eye bleach, especially at the beach.