Friday Friday Friday. That’s something I will capitalize, I’m sure some of you have thought how awful my punctuation and grammar are. I say you are wrong, I choose not to capitalize god. See how I did that? god. Really though, if it began a sentence I would have a moral obligation to capitalize it, it’s just how I roll. I also really hate putting “quotes” around things. It ruins the flow of the eye while you’re reading (while I’m reading, at least). So when I quote someone I just put a comma and tell you what they said. I might throw in some italicization. Like the other day a friend thought I didn’t hear her say, she probably takes a shower before sex. I yelled, and after! See how easy that was? I’m thinking of you, dear reader, really. And if you need the quotes to figure out what’s going on then well sheesh, I don’t know what to tell you. You are probably one of those people who can only watch movies where everything is explained in absolute detail. You are the reason the characters on 24 have to say something like, I am opening up the program so Jack can see what I am doing on his GPS in his car so he will better be able to apprehend the terrorists. No one can deliver that line with any believability. You ruin otherwise decent entertainment. I encourage you to use your imagination, just pretend those quotes are there.

I am inconsistent with my own rules of grammar and punctuation. Sometimes I’ll quote and capitalize. If I ever feel quotes are necessary I use single quotes. Double quotes are such attention whores.

Right, so it’s Friday. I may be unemployed but I still get excited for weekends because everyone else hangs out. If this weekend is as good as last weekend then I can’t wait for games to begin. It’s already shaping up quite nicely. So far it it includes an avocado centric dinner with this guy. We’ll probably head over to Seabright Brewery because they have awesome fuck george bush fries (those are french fries folks). If you are there come say hi, we’ll be the ones with plates of avocado being loud.

Last Saturday, a friend had a pre-Halloween Halloween party. I almost didn’t go, but then TBU helped me see the error of my ways. I was going to be an egg roll but I just wasn’t feeling very egg roll like. I wound up going as the girl who screams, your mom, when you ask her what she is. It was a success. Some highlights of the evening include (but are not limited to):

• Figuring out that PhD stands for Poopy head Doctor
• A rousing interpretive dance to David Bowie/Queens Under Pressure and Daft Punks Around the World
• Later in the evening a girl was walking dangerously close to an in ground fire pit and after she had already fallen in I screamed, watch out there’s a fire pit! Kinda awkward
• I was warned by a very drunk reindeer to not break her pipe. I said, whoa, that tone is telling me to put my bottle down for this. She was so unamused, which made me feel stupid for saying anything. But then she fell on some steps in front of everyone and I smiled inside. Just a little though, because I have so been there.
• TBU smacked a spider the size of my palm with a Ronald Reagan mask. It was both horrifying and fascinating. You may say, the size of your palm? Engage hyperbole much The Millionizer? But I tell you the spider was huge and my hands are small.
• TBU was super funny and he said something that made me laugh for a solid 2 minutes I don’t know what it was but it did end with him saying, I know! I just googled it. Never argue with the internet.

Here’s a list of things that rhyme with The Millionizer in case you want to write a rap about me.

Wiser

Institutionalizer

Miser

Ostracizer

Exerciser

Exorciser

Visor

Advisor

Criminalizer

Heffenweiser

Hyperbolizer

I don’t guarantee that all of those are actual words or that they are even spelled right. But you know how crazy rap is.

**The ‘I would take avocado from a baby’ Millionizer

I am happy to report we went to Circuit City last night (way before the enema), and quite easily exchanged laptops. A sweet gal named Reyna made it quick and painless. (Sorry for referring to someone as a gal, I hate that word too. I was just trying to be breezy so as to convey the effortlessness of the whole experience.) She responded to TBUs chit chat, even though she totally didn’t have to. I wouldn’t have. That is one of the hardest things about being with TBU, he always insists on talking to people while we’re out in public. He is one of those public nice people. When I’m out I don’t want to talk to anyone and I certainly don’t initiate it.

A couple years ago we were in Berkeley visiting friends. On our way to dinner TBU just vanished. This is way before he had a cell phone otherwise we would’ve just called him. We’re standing there like idiots, blocking the flow of pedestrian traffic, wondering how and when he disappeared. Then we see him across the street pushing a homeless man in a wheelchair. They disappeared into Subway. My friend and I looked at each other, our jaws literally could not have been further from our skulls. They came out of Subway and went immediately into another store. What the hell was he doing? The man in the wheelchair was screaming and flailing. Watching them was like a Monty Python sketch. As soon as they came out one door they disappeared into another. It was unbelievably comical. After he had pushed the man the equivalent of two blocks we caught TBUs attention and said we’d meet him at the restaurant if he was going to pull this good samaritan crap.

When he met us at our table he said the man was cussing and demanding that TBU push him here and there and ask for napkins in there. My friend and I looked at each other and instantly knew what the other was thinking. In unison we said, that’s why we don’t pull shit like this. There are very practical reasons for not talking to people in public. I told TBU that this was a lesson to be learned, maybe next time he wouldn’t be fooled by an old man in a wheelchair.

In conclusion, Reyna at Circuit City was awesome. Enough about that store, I swear this is not a paid endorsement. Although, I could use the extra money.

So. Well. Um. Yeah, I don’t know when this blog turned the corner to all day poop talk. I’d like to tell you that this will be the last poop related post for a while but I just can’t promise something like that so let’s forget I ever mentioned it. And what’s the problem with poop talk anyway? Everybody poops and sometimes certain people need an enema.

Last night at 10:15 I turned to TBU and said that it had been almost 4 days since I pooped. And he knows how much I like to poop. He looked at me sweetly, his eyes full of sympathy and said, uh oh. Indeed. I spent all day researching remedies for my blockage. Everywhere I turned was sure that I needed more fiber in my diet. But the thing is, I already have enough fiber in my diet. Tons! I even take supplements. I even mix organic flax seed meal in my organic apple juice. I am no stranger to fiber. Then I came upon the colon cleanse. The idea behind the colon cleanse is that most people have build up in their intestines and need a special juice fasting diet to clean it out. I know, I know very annoyingly hippy. But I was desperate. I also came upon the enema. The enema promised quick results. But I wasn’t too happy about the method.

At 23, I’ve never had anything in my colon. Not that there’s anything wrong with a little colon play, it’s just not my style. TBU said he would go get me an emema right now if I wanted it. He even said that he would do one too, just to clean the old pipes out. So 10:15 last night, my belly protruding, we left the house to go get us some enemas. In Santa Cruz, after 9pm, your options are pretty limited. It’s either Safeway or Long’s and neither of them offer an optimal enema purchasing environment. Not that there ever is one, but I’m sure it could have been better than last night.

We opted for Long’s because we figured they would have a better selection. I don’t know what kind of reasoning that is, because an enema’s an enema, but whatever. Have I mentioned that this is the downtown Long’s? Are you familiar with the nighttime downtown element of Santa Cruz? Just imagine a movie where the protagonist gets lost in a homeless/skinhead/punk camp, that is what downtown Santa Cruz is like at night. But don’t tell the tourism board I said anything, they’ll just deny it and remind you that the Pacific Ocean is RIGHT THERE. Anyway, these folks are mostly friendly and harmless but I just have certain reservations about buying an enema while surrounded by them. I mean there are drawings on the box of how to give oneself an enema. Complete with androgenous reciever bearing down. And there is absolutely nothing to stop these people from commenting on it. These people aren’t governed by silly things like SOCIAL MORES or BOUNDARIES. Oh, lord no.

We make our selection and, god love him, TBU carries that box like he’s got nothing to prove to anyone. I am cowering behind him telling him to hold the box this way so no one can see the FLEET’S ENEMA label. Oh no, not that way because then they can see the other FLEET’S ENEMA label. (This is where I go back to past tense, don’t ask why, just read.) The only way to hold it without the neon enema sign flashing was to have the instructional drawings face out. I just prayed that anyone near us would be too drunk or methed out to notice. We got in line and didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Because that’s the universal sign for ‘please talk to me crazy person.’ Well sometimes people are too crazy to wait for the signal and just start. The dudebrah** in front of us had snagged a pack of sugar free black licorice. And then asked if we had ever had black licorice. TBU is just going along like he doesn’t have a double pack of enema’s tucked under his arm, answering dudebrahs questions and laughing at his drunken banter. Then dudebrah decided that he does not like the taste of sugar free black licorice and puts the open pack in a stack of shopping baskets next to the register. Then he takes the piece that was in his mouth and puts that in the basket too. He turns to us, me about to explode with shit and the thought of having to buy an enema at the downtown Long’s on a Wednesday night, and says that he would have paid for it, but he just didn’t like it. Fine! but please stop talking to me! I just want to get an enema, I doubt I will like it either but I will not return the open package to a stack of shopping baskets next to the register. His Cookie Monster eyes were starting to get to me, I pulled my hood over most of my face and started to hide behing TBU.

** Bradley Nowell of Sublime was a dudebrah. Imagine more tattoos and less showers. When you see a dudebrah you think alcohol and meth. I have nothing against alcohol but let’s all keep our lives under control and meth, ugh meth is just gross. Oh yeah, and I don’t have anything against tats either, I have one, but there’s a limit folks. And are those flames really so awesome that they need to be ALL OVER your back? You will see those back tats because dudebrahs can’t seem to get the hang of putting a shirt on. I’ll get a definition on UrbanDictionary soon.

We got home and I tried to avoid actually going through with it. I asked TBU to go over it with me one more time. I took it in the bedroom and said I’d see him in a few. Did you think this was going to be a tandem enema session? Ew no, gross. I read the box over and over again. Then I did it. I just did it. I took off my pants, knelt down and I just did it. It was like a self inflicted prison scene, only without the prison. Then I waited with my naked ass in the air wondering how much time had passed. The instructions said wait until you have a strong urge to go. But that’s misleading because I had a strong urge as soon as I uh, inserted it. So I passed the time by singing songs and looking under the bed, a LOT of stuff kinda just accumulates under there. I also noticed that we need to vacuum the bedroom a little more often. Then it was time. At one point I flung my arms out to grab onto something, anything because The Urge was indeed – strong.

The enema was fun and all, there was much multi-syllabic farting going on, but I felt there was more that could have, you know, happened. That’s why I’m glad I got all my colon cleansing supplies. Like I said, I was desperate. It’s not as bad as I imagined it. I just juice a bunch of fruits and vegetables, add some fiber and apple juice and drink up. It’s pretty tasty if not a little weird.

TBU has reported much pooping since his enema but sadly, I haven’t the same news. Go colon cleanse, go!