Just sign it up his ass and other helpful tips I gave The Bloggess.

Friday, Cindy and I left Topeka and drove like lunatics to St. Louis.  The Bloggess book signing or bust.  A couple things I learned about Cindy, she has a bladder the size of a miniature poodle’s and she’s one of those people who will reach across the car while you’re driving and lay on the horn for five minutes because, “that’s what horns are for.”  Oh, and never, under any circumstance let Cindy have your phone unsupervised, that’s all I’m allowed to say about that.

We pulled up to the bookstore with almost no time to spare.  Somehow we got seats in the second row right on the aisle.  The Bloggess read the chapter about elax and a burglar – so hilarious.  Then, after several Q&A, she started talking about the traveling red dress and everyone clapped, except me, I did that cheer thing you do at sporting events, you know, like a circular over the head fist pump while yelling, “woot, woot.”  The Bloggess saw this, looked at me and said, “Oh, do I need to wrap it up?”   I looked at her, totally stunned and said, “No, well, I don’t know, I have no power here.”  I added a shoulder shrug and my hands did some weird stop and wave motion.  Then, inexplicably, I did the gesture for stop talking, you know, where you take your hand and motion like you’re cutting your jugular with your fingernails.  WTF!?  I was motioning for her to stop talking.  I think I was subconsciously trying to motion myself to stop talking but that’s not how hand gestures work, Julie!  The rest of my memory of the reading is a bit fuzzy, actually gone.  My mind blanked it out, probably from humiliation.

Now for the book signing, we were in group four so I had time to take Cindy upstairs to feed her – duck tacos, yum!  Oh, did I mention that I’ve had two drinks?  Well, I’ve had two drinks, which may not be a lot to most people, but I take several pharmaceuticals and, as a rule, I rarely add alcohol, so two beers buzzed the shit out of me.

Buzzzzed

Cindy just reminded me that I asked the bartender for a duck fart.  It’s a shot (equal parts of Bailey’s, amaretto and Jack Daniels).  It’s not gross, it’s yummy and it always makes me think of the time I had a duck fart attack in the doctor’s office.  So, now I’ve had three drinks.  Buzzzzzzz

You know when you’re meeting someone you’re excited about and you think that you’ll be all cool and eloquent and said person will think that you’re brilliant and that they should immediately be your friend?  Yeah, I knew going in that there was no chance of any of that happening.  Seriously, I was just hoping for limited word vomit and little to no real vomit.  I may have set the bar a smidge too high.

There were a couple of women ahead of us, one of them turned and asked if we were from Kansas, because she had read a comment on The Bloggess about Kansas, The Bloggess, and a whorehouse – this somehow translated into my brain as, “I read your blog.”  I was all, “I drove from Arkansas to Kansas to Missouri where I’m standing in a bookstore and some random person in front of me is talking about reading my blog…Oh. My. God. Mind. Totally. Blown.  So, I walked up to The Bloggess, in super flustered mode, and I said, “Holy shitballs, that lady said that she read my blog. Seriously!?  What?  I think I just peed myself.”  I swear she looked down to see if I was kidding.  (I hadn’t actually peed myself, well, maybe a little, but not enough that you could tell by looking.)  I should also mention that I wasn’t in front of the table but behind the table totally in her personal space like I was trying to tell her a secret.  I’m surprised she didn’t scream for security.  Instead, she said, “It’s so cool when that happens.”  I have to say that it is.  It’s even cool when it doesn’t happen but you somehow think it did.

I introduced her to Sid Vicious.

Sid Vicious Road Trip

I actually told her that I had searched the backwoods of Arkansas for the perfect present but I totally fell in love with Sid so she couldn’t have him but would she please autograph him instead – Dear God, where is Cindy and why isn’t she talking for me?  We had a deal and she was totally blowing it.

Sid is pissed

The Bloggess said, “He’s my spirit animal!  You should keep him.”  She was going to sign on Sid’s foot but I said, “Just sign it up his ass.” Yep.  That’s what I said and that’s exactly what she did.

sid's autograph

I gave her two mustache straw clips and a TARDIS blue goatee, which she happily donned for this picture, probably thinking that if she did this, I would go away.

The Bloggess and the TARDIS beard

Oh, and she signed my copy of her book and a book for one of y’all.  I’ll do a give away at some point.  I have more goatees and mustache clips.  Everyone should wear a goatee at least once and drink a duck fart and meet Jenny Lawson (The Bloggess) but not necessarily in that order.

Now back to my real life.  I’ll be asleep for the next few days.

 

American German – language lesson #25

Ente Furz (in-ta furtz) Duck fart.  I’m not sure if these are available in Germany but I would like to see the look on the bartender’s face when you order one.

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  1. […] hope you have a great week.  Thanks for sharing your quirktasticness with the world! PS:  The post about Sid and your book signing –  I shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house. […]

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