"And I can't even go to the grocery store"

Without some ones that's clean and a shirt with a team
It seems

Much to blog about since last we met.

Where to begin . . .

*Talking to my idol

I'm of the mind that sometimes in life, you gotta just go for it. Put your nervousness or whatever aside and lay your thoughts out. As you probably know, blog reader, one of my idols is Roger Moore. Yes, yes, THE Roger Moore. Sir Roger Moore. One of the coolest cats ever, in my humble opinion. So when I was in WeHo, I decided I was not leaving under any circumstances until two things had happened: a) I wanted to place my hands in Steve McQueen's handprints outside the Chinese Theatre and b) I wanted a photo at the star of Roger Moore on the Walk of Fame. It took a fair amount of walking, looking and hunting but at last, we made it to 7007 Hollywood Blvd and I got my photo. Once I had this picture, I announced that I wanted to send it to RGM and see if he responded. I mean, come on; not everyone in the world can say she's had some type of interaction with a person she idolizes. Plus I think you can tell a lot about celebs by who is good to their fans and who isn't. It's nothing ventured, nothing gained. You won't get anywhere unless you try. So try I did. I sent along the photo, along with well wishes and an expression of how awesome it was to be there and . . . drumroll, please and thanks . . . he responded back. I swear, I think my heart skipped a beat and my pulse rate must have been 1,000. It was so cool. Good people are in short supply these days, it seems, so it's all the better when you find one. And when you realize one of your idols is a nice guy. I can't say that it made my day, week or even year because that wouldn't be accurate enough-- it's one of those things that was so simple but that I will always think of fondly and that will always set my heart alight. Roger Moore rules and I will hear no ill of him.

*The yard sale / tard sale

So I am trying to raise money to buy fencing material at Lowe's to put up a fence around the backyard so that all these damn kids will quit using my yard as a pass-through. It's called: this is not your property, step the fuck off. I decided that since I had a shitload of unwanted items in my garage, it was time to have a yard sale. I solicited donations from other people who wanted to contribute and I got everything set up. Earlier this week, as I was preparing for the sale, I got up on a ladder step-stool deal to look around on some shelving to see if I missed anything else I wanted to get rid of. Oh Lord. I fell off the step-stool accidentally and busted my leg and my left buttcheek all to hell. Had to go to the doctor and get x-rays. It was awful. I didn't break or crack any bones but I had sore muscles and bruises like you can't imagine. Black, purple, red and yellow deep bruises. I look like someone beat me on the left side of my body. Already, things were not off to a great start. I placed an ad in the local paper, which cost 10 damn dollars for like 4 lines of text. I had to get up in the 4 o'clock hour this morning, drag all the shit out and then sit around and deal with it until noon. Let me tell you: in many respects, it is more work than it is worth. I didn't get nearly enough to buy the fencing I need. I didn't do terribly either but for all the sweat, effort and injuries I put into it, I have to say I was a bit disappointed. It amounted to enough to buy 2 of the 7 panels I need. Not awful, not great. Some of the stuff I thought would sell immediately received no attention from people and other stuff I thought was worthless went first. Very odd. And the people I saw . . . that's a head-trip all its own. I saw lots of random lesbian couples, a Pentecostal woman with a beehive mullet ponytail thing going on, old men with their pants pulled up to their armpits, women with strange body shapes, a chick who had tons of lip piercings who came in her flannel pajamas even though it was 90 degrees outside . . . I was glad to pack it up and call it a day. I felt like as soon as I stopped moving, I would collapse. Somehow, I summoned the energy to mow the lawn and clean the house after it was over. I went into a coma after that and took a nap for an hour. I am sure tonight, it will be a deep, restful sleep brought on by exhaustion. Well. And I had a whiskey and water in honor of The Saint.

*The grocery store

Anytime you go to the grocery store during an offbeat hour, you never know what you'll see. I did not encounter the weird lizard man this time but there was still much to digest. There was a strange threesome of one woman and two men walking along a cart together. They did not buy anything for themselves but bought a few things for a random baby inside the cart. When they checked out, one of the men announced, loudly, "I think we need to buy chips and beef jerky and spend the night watching movies at my house." The woman told the baby in the basket, "You sure are an expensive brat, aren't you?" Then one of the men said, "You never buy nothin' for me." Ooooook. Another woman was practically up my colon for 70 percent of the time I was in the store. I was able to break away from her after she dropped a bunch of mac and cheese boxes in the floor. There was a man in the meats and cheeses who was wearing what appeared to be an old-timey prison shirt. It was black and white striped like a convict shirt and I had to laugh.


Eyes getting heavy. Brain slowing down.
Zzzzzzz.