My Alleged Life and Loves

My father owned a hotdog stand—but he had a footlong chip on his shoulder. At Christmas we would garnish the house with mustard greens, something us kids didn’t relish. Sometimes he would lock me out of the house—he was a deadbolt dad. One day he hurt his back coming out of a record shop, turned out he had a slipped disk—every time he moved Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood would play. It didn’t help that he also had digestive problems and ended up with a semicolon.

Only my parents could make a spectator sport out of a card game, they played contact bridge. Whenever my father won a hand, my mother would deck him.

I needed work so I took a position as an artist’s model, but the arrangement was very tiring. I tried to tell the artist I was just a prototype. I cleaned the large homes of wealthy people, even the toilets were commodious. I worked in a butcher shop for a while but had a visceral reaction. Trying to stay employed was frutal, even the car I drove was a lemon but at least it smelled good.

I’ve always had trouble sleeping. When I finally fall asleep the dream team of Ayatollah Khomeini and Satan are nightly visitors. Another dream I have involves a three-eyed monster who demands a pair of trifocals. I try to exorcise but realized I was on a treadmill to hell. Why go through the hassle of body-building when you can just stay home and masticate? I’m a terrible cook though, my deviled eggs are evil, which may explain a lot. I stay powered by transgressed fats and Miracle Whip.

I like to get dolled up now and then but never should have let that hairdresser talk me into the salmon mousse, now every cat in the neighborhood is after me. She lent me a book on skincare and pockmarked the page she wanted me to read. My boyfriend has male pattern baldness, I think it’s argyle.

I had a string of boyfriends in my younger days but could never get the knots out. One eggbeater who was part of the illiterati once decomposed a sonnet for me which I had to throw out. He got mad and left. I scoured the earth for him and went through a lot of sponges which I think he should reimburse me for. He still harbored a grudge, but mooring me with the OED was uncalled for. I said thanks for dredging up the same old shit. He said muck you, I said my sediments exactly. Later he sent me a bouquet of listeria from which I’ve never fully recovered.

An accountant I dated made a killing by filing fraudulent IRS returns for wealthy clients. He was sentenced to life in prison where he gave taxonomy lessons to other classless crooks. I was an accessory, they suspected my velvet choker. When the cops came to arrest him at his office, he tried to pretend he was on the phone, but they insisted on just the fax. We tried to keep the whole thing quiet, but everyone had just returned from a liquid lunch so there were a lot of media leaks. Everything went wrong—figures I’d end up a fugitive from Murphy’s Law.

I dated a black guy back in the ’70s. I loved his hair, it was a real afrodisiac.

In high school I went out with this dyslexic guy. One day he reached for his gnu and got expelled, I think it was through a third floor window.

Another chump who was religious asked me if I was an atheist, I said I’m really more of a diagnostic. He also liked guns—it wasn’t easy to come to grips with the fact that he was a smoothbore skinflint.

I’m done with men, though I still enjoy boys…and raw recruits, when properly prepared, are pretty tasty.

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18 responses to “My Alleged Life and Loves

  1. You made my day with this. I just LOVE these. You are so clever and I have no idea how you can do it so well.
    There is nothing like starting the day with laughter!

  2. One word comment -POETRY

  3. I feel the need to lick my fingers. Delightful.

  4. ah! i loved this! so cleverly written!

  5. OMG, you’ve done it again. How?
    “I try to exorcise but realized I was on a treadmill to hell.” = fantastic. I almost fell of the chair laughing at this one.

  6. Again, too funny! My two favorites are “I had a string of boyfriends in my younger days but could never get the knots out. One eggbeater who was part of the illiterati once decomposed a sonnet for me which I had to throw out. ” and “In high school I went out with this dyslexic guy. One day he reached for his gnu and got expelled, I think it was through a third floor window.”

    I can’t imagine how you think of these. It really shows at the core you are light hearted and very, very funny! Thanks so much Debra. Know that you have made my day a delight. I’ll be laughing all day.

    • I’m really not a totally depressive person, I have joy in words and animals the same way you have joy in your woods. It’s my life circumstances that make me so miserable. I’m so glad it made you laugh. Never stop laughing! Thank you Wild Bill.

  7. You excel at this form of writing, Debra. Could this be your forte? How long could you extend the punning for, I wonder? the length of a short story?

  8. I was holding it in until I got to the “male pattern baldness…argyle.” After that, there was no hope for me. It’s a great day when I can read something nonsensical! Thanks for the laughter, there’s never enough.

  9. I can’t imagine life without laughter, no matter how crappy things are. That can make darker things funnier, but what the hell, I takes my yuks where I gets them. Thanks for writing.

  10. This is pricless….hilarious. Life is way to short not to laugh. You have a real talent! You have so much great content in these archives that I could easily lose a couple of hours reading. I won’t continue to comment on archived things…you have your hands full enough keeping up around here. But I am enjoying reading your writings.

    • Live Stronger, Freshly Pressed only lasts a couple days and new commenters are rarely heard from again. Many bloggers comment on FP posts just for exposure to their own blogs, I know this is a fact, have had creepy experiences with linkbacks, and have written about it. I am so pleased you’ve scouted out some older posts—you’re the only one who has. Our journeys are different but if you ‘get’ me (most people don’t) then we have more in common than we know. Thank you for reading. So let’s keep our arm steady, squeeze not pull, and never fear the recoil!

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