Well I can hardly wait
...until I get the sun and your lips both pressing on my skin
i was informed by my wife last night via email, that they are, in fact, flying out on the 5th of sep again after all. for dead sure this time. as in, bought plane tickets, made hotel reservations.
all i can say is:
FUCK YEAH, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!
funny, how i seem to convey glee and despair in much the same manner, and written out here, with no inflection, had i not explained what i meant, we would've expected more bad news, heh heh.
that means in less than two weeks (13 days, specifically), my eyes will be laying across my wife like a naked woman across crisp, white-linen sheets, her skin on my lips like silk, the two of us entwined like a magician's puzzle carved from sandalwood.
there was little left for me to do but drink margaritas, tell itunes to play some of my favorite sturm und drang, and mosh with a vengeance around my living room until my old war wound (stretched ligaments in my right knee from a mosh pit i was in when the wife and i were first dating) started aching and i was bathed in sweat. i almost grabbed my bass and gave it a toss (nothing more satisfying, really, when i am pumped up and need a release, than to watch my bitch (read: the barney bass (so-called because of it's purple hue; i bought it at a pawn shop, i couldn't be picky about color!)) arcing gently through the air before attempting reentry with a resounding dischord that hums out unending as the instrument bounces softly once or twice), but decided that i was probably too pumped up, and would end by fucking the poor dear up.
and the sun is shining in its heaven.
and the funk, o my beloved non-existant readers, my droogs and only friends, o thou patient and long-suffering and hopeful and tireless ptitsas and malchickiwicks, has pissed, sodded, and fucked straight the fuck off. join with me, if you will, in offering it a bird, two-fingered, or thumbnail-off-the-front-teeth salute as it goes. i am actually flipping the computer screen off right now. yes, i am a huge dork. no, i don't fucking give a shit. yeeeehaaaw!
on a more brass-tacks level: the other day, no. 1 had his assessment to begin kindergarten. the day didn't start well, and he had repeated meltdowns at various times before the appointment, i was sure the whole thing was going to go down like a flaming mezzerschmidt.
this is when, thought i, everyone figures out what a liar i am, and how much i have fooled everyone with my parenting abilities. this is the moment when they all finally exchange that look and make a quick phone call while my back is turned, and a handsome but expressionless man in mirrored aviators and a black suit and tie takes me be the arm and says softly, but firmly, "sir, we'd like to have a word with you. come with us...."
having accepted this as law, i sighed and took him in there. i spent the next 15 minutes with my mouth agape as my oldest son amazed and dazzled me at his ability to listen, follow instructions, and accomplish tasks i had no idea he could. he wrote his name, for fuck's sake! i didn't even know he could write his name! nor did my wife (apparently, those few years in developmental preschool have taught him more than i would ever have). (note to self, buy teacher karen and teacher cheri modest but pretty boquets as a thank-you.)
i lavished him with praise on the walk out to the car, and as if the things he had done were daily occurences, he was concerned only with being able to play games when he got home. god, i fucking love my kids!
again, a big thank you to all of you, for, as always, playing along.
darth sardonic
i was informed by my wife last night via email, that they are, in fact, flying out on the 5th of sep again after all. for dead sure this time. as in, bought plane tickets, made hotel reservations.
all i can say is:
FUCK YEAH, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!
funny, how i seem to convey glee and despair in much the same manner, and written out here, with no inflection, had i not explained what i meant, we would've expected more bad news, heh heh.
that means in less than two weeks (13 days, specifically), my eyes will be laying across my wife like a naked woman across crisp, white-linen sheets, her skin on my lips like silk, the two of us entwined like a magician's puzzle carved from sandalwood.
there was little left for me to do but drink margaritas, tell itunes to play some of my favorite sturm und drang, and mosh with a vengeance around my living room until my old war wound (stretched ligaments in my right knee from a mosh pit i was in when the wife and i were first dating) started aching and i was bathed in sweat. i almost grabbed my bass and gave it a toss (nothing more satisfying, really, when i am pumped up and need a release, than to watch my bitch (read: the barney bass (so-called because of it's purple hue; i bought it at a pawn shop, i couldn't be picky about color!)) arcing gently through the air before attempting reentry with a resounding dischord that hums out unending as the instrument bounces softly once or twice), but decided that i was probably too pumped up, and would end by fucking the poor dear up.
and the sun is shining in its heaven.
and the funk, o my beloved non-existant readers, my droogs and only friends, o thou patient and long-suffering and hopeful and tireless ptitsas and malchickiwicks, has pissed, sodded, and fucked straight the fuck off. join with me, if you will, in offering it a bird, two-fingered, or thumbnail-off-the-front-teeth salute as it goes. i am actually flipping the computer screen off right now. yes, i am a huge dork. no, i don't fucking give a shit. yeeeehaaaw!
on a more brass-tacks level: the other day, no. 1 had his assessment to begin kindergarten. the day didn't start well, and he had repeated meltdowns at various times before the appointment, i was sure the whole thing was going to go down like a flaming mezzerschmidt.
this is when, thought i, everyone figures out what a liar i am, and how much i have fooled everyone with my parenting abilities. this is the moment when they all finally exchange that look and make a quick phone call while my back is turned, and a handsome but expressionless man in mirrored aviators and a black suit and tie takes me be the arm and says softly, but firmly, "sir, we'd like to have a word with you. come with us...."
having accepted this as law, i sighed and took him in there. i spent the next 15 minutes with my mouth agape as my oldest son amazed and dazzled me at his ability to listen, follow instructions, and accomplish tasks i had no idea he could. he wrote his name, for fuck's sake! i didn't even know he could write his name! nor did my wife (apparently, those few years in developmental preschool have taught him more than i would ever have). (note to self, buy teacher karen and teacher cheri modest but pretty boquets as a thank-you.)
i lavished him with praise on the walk out to the car, and as if the things he had done were daily occurences, he was concerned only with being able to play games when he got home. god, i fucking love my kids!
again, a big thank you to all of you, for, as always, playing along.
darth sardonic
Labels: alkaline trio, mosh, my cool kids, the funk
posted by darth sardonic at 1:27 PM
5 Comments:
You didn't know he could write his name! That has got to be one of the funniest things I've ever heard!
(It's much better than to be sure he can and then finding out he can't, though. lol)
So ... 13 days? Or is it 12 now? I'm happy for you.
Breathe, just fucking breathe!!
hugs
px
Yaaaaaaay!
And by the way, I love how you sneak in a little clockwork now and then. I fell in love with that lingo the first time I read it and will continue to love it till I die.
That sounds fabulous Darth. I am so pleased for you. Your understated yearning comes over loud and clear. I shall be counting the days myself! xx
Aha!!! A great post! I love that Number 1 behaves when out in public... sign that he's waay comfortable in his skin too that he feels free to cut loose at home and knows to present his 'other' face to the outside world...
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