Divas

At Laine's house the other day us gals were discussing celebrities and who we fancy. I said that Tom Cruise was a chest shaving weasel and I think it was Randall who said that she didn't care for Tom Cruise or Mel Gibson. That's when Laine stated, "Those two should get married." Right on cue, Epiphany said, "Can you imagine the diva cunt fit in that house?" Good lord, I don't even want to entertain that thought for an instant.

Laine's Had Enough

Store meetings at The Hellmouth usually consist of boring shit that either no one hears or we already knew to begin with. At one of these meetings, the GM was saying that with each sale made the cashier needs to mention whatever book is being pushed for that month as well as recommending something similar to their purchase. (Sidebar - Blaine is famous for suggesting Charles Dickens' David Copperfield for everything. Example: "Ma'am, would you like a copy of David Copperfield with your Lindor Truffle?") Anyway...at the meeting the GM went on and on about what suggestions should be made and so on and so forth until Laine had heard enough and blurted out, "What next? Do we ask if they want a blow job with their Oprah book selection?" Daaaammmmmn! Laine is a gal who does not hold back.

Laine Tells It Like It Is

Describing my parent's bedroom growing up, I mentioned that it was a huge room with only a few pieces of furniture and a crucifix nailed to the wall above the bed's headboard. Laine blandly offered, "I wouldn't wanna screw under that." Me neither, honey.

Laine Knocks Me Out

On Wednesday, Laine and I were in Philly on Arch driving beside an elderly gent in a Crown Vic the size of the Queen Mary. Clearly that baby was too much for him to handle cause he was lookin' to cut in on my side. Laine shouts out, "Look at this turd." and I lost it. I mean, who says turd outside of the third grade??

Then we pulled into our spot at the parking garage and saw another elderly gentleman across the way. He somehow managed to cram his Lexus into a spot barely big enough for a Fiat Cinquecento. I whispered to Laine, "Man, and I thought I got us into a tight spot, damn, lookit that guy over dare." To which she replied, "He hasn't had it that tight in fifty years." I betchya she's right on that count.

The Maria Puzo of St. Louis

A few weeks back Laine and I were out for the day with her mother, the lovely Mrs. Kohl, of the Kohls of Missouri. Well, Mrs. Kohl was telling us of her doctor back home and his troubles of late. It seemed that this gentleman of a certain age had recently been left by his wife of two decades due to another gentleman that the Missus had met online. (Yikes.) The story came to a conclusion when Mrs. Kohl said, "She did come back; she took the horses, left the children."

Words From a Disappointed Brit

A while back, the gals and I were at Laine's house sipping on Chardonnay and shootin' the breeze. Randy was talking about the book "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" when our resident brit, Jane, became outraged at the desecration of one of the finest novels ever written. The only thing she could manage to say in this moment of disgust was "Good Lord, what next, I ask you? 'The Grapes of Wrath With the Faerie Dust Bowl'???" Somewhere, John Steinbeck is laughing. A lot.

Bright As Yellow

And that he is. I'm speaking of our beloved Bobby Minn. He's been on the mind of late for nearly all in the Scraps family. So for this post, here's a little something from the past on Bob:

On March 16th of 2005, I was in the breakroom with AJ Pan and his gal Friday, Bunny. I told them that they had just missed it; Bobby's mom & dad had stopped in and they were almost as sweet as Bob. It was at this time that AJ finally realized that Bob actually had parents. This thought amazed him, because Bob is such a saintly decent man, that one would easily think that he sprang to life out of thin air. A miracle, as it were.
"Man, I can't believe it. Bob's mother. I mean, if she gave birth to Bob then I bet she shits pure light. Really! She farts, and it's the adagio of a classical piece!"
(y'know, i hafta agree with this...)

Earlier this year, I ran into Bob at the old place and was greeted with a brilliant smile and the warmest of hugs. I was told a story of when our mutual friend Laine had to call the store for her schedule and our Bob answered. Laine, ever the prankster, put on her sex pot Kathleen Turner/Demi Moore voice and said, "This is an obscene phone call......it's Laine!" Without missing a beat, our Bible reading, God-fearin' Bob asked, "What are you wearing?"

Back in oh, 2003-2004ish, Bob graced the walls of our place of business with his truly magnificent art. It was so astonishingly gorgeous that it immediately made one angry at having no assets to liquidate and purchase every piece for sale. Bea from the hair salon stopped in on her break one morning and told me how impressed she was. "Finally, ya get some decent art on these depressing walls." To which I replied, "Yeah, aren't they incredible? Our own Bobby Minn is responsible." "Are you serious? BOB did these? Jesus Christ! They're fuckin' fabulous!" I later retold this to Bob, who blushed at all the oo-ing and ah-ing and then laughed a nervous laugh when I said that apparently his work is so beautiful that it actually causes people to blaspheme in public!

Finally, about five years ago, our store got a new coffee in: Blackberry Mountain. It smelled like heaven and people either loved it, or hated it. Bob loved it. Leather, the gal who worked in the back, was of the hating party. I once discussed this coffee with her to which she stated, and I quote, "It tastes like ass." Later that afternoon, Bob came over and asked for a cup. I told him what Leather said and he laughed his sweet natured laugh and exclaimed, "She says it tastes like ass!?" He went back to work and I ran like a little girl back to Leather's desk and said "OH MY GOD! Bob said ass!!!" We both covered our mouths in shock and tried not to laugh too loud. Then, Bob went and topped it all. He came back after his lunch and said, "Hello Star! Do you have any of that Ass Coffee?" He laughed and had me doubled over until he said one of the greatest comedy lines in the history of funny, "You know, I like ass! (chuckle) I like ass with cream and sugar! (more chuckling)" I completely lost it and had a bout of the most painful side-splitting laughing fits ever. I love that Bob was as tickled at saying the word 'ass' as I was at hearing him say it. Of course I told everyone and had the entire building loving Bob even more than before. Who knew it was possible.

So, there you have it, a little walk into the past of my cherished memories of Bob. He's one of the great ones and here's hoping that he continues to live a long and super fabulous life. Cheers.