:: BellyRub ::

So Dotty shot me e-mail this morning wondering about the voyeuristic pleasures. What I meant was that I hope I like people reading and quazi-watching us have a conversation, but I hope that does not evolve into liking being watched in everything that I do. That’s all.

Poor Bastard
I would fill Dotty’s car up with dimes, but, seeing as she drives a small car I think I might damage the shocks or something. Filling her house would not be fun because that would involve tons of cash.

England
I lived and worked for a summer in New York City where Dotty came to visit me, once when Brilliant Editor was at a conference. We met at the Gingerman, which was my hang out there, for lunch and decided I would join them for dinner. We ate at this nice restaurant, talked, and people realized how similarly strange Dotty and Belly Rub are. Kinda fun from my perspective, but scary from the outside I would imagine.

After dinner we went out drinking, the Seal Rouge. I know this is not spelt correctly, but it works. It is on 22nd St. This is the place where one of our friends explained to the bartender that a true martini is made from Gin, not vodka. If you want a vodka martini, then that will be specified in the drink order…

So, Dotty and I were drinking mint juleps and other drinks, lots of them. One of the people who we ate with is English, and likes cricket. He asked me how many of these mint concoctions I had. I held up my fingers to indicate 2, like a V for victory, or the peace-niks show of peace. There was a look of concern and an apology. Apparently in England that formation of the fingers means f-off. This was my first experience in English culture.

Incidentally, if you are around a Brit. It is a “bum bag,” not a “fanny pack."
:: Belly Rub 11:15 AM [+] ::
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brother, can you spare a dime
I heard that on the radio this morning. Lovely song, it was. Is. I do wonder if BellyRub will ever fill up my house or car with dimes. That would be cool. Kind of cool. I could die, actually. Say he put them in a closet, all in rolls like you get at the bank, and say he put them on a top shelf, and say he filled it so that when the door opened, they'd all fall on me.

I could die. Or get depressions in my head. Of the literal kind.

Brother, can you spare a dime? If you can spare a bunch, try that joke on someone else.
:: Dotty 11:11 PM [+] ::
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Dotty Parker UNLEASHED
Ok so I just got an e-mail from Dotty and she is very excited. As you can read she is very excited. One thing I am hopeful of in this blog is to not have it morph into some sick voyeuristic pleasure.

Dotty,

You should not be suprised that our writing is so similar. We come from the same man that eats an onion on a waffle and does not think that putting milk in a beer bottle is a little odd. I think dad will be a fairly regular topic of conversation. Corner off your toten chip.

Belly Rub
:: Belly Rub 3:39 PM [+] ::
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oh so proud; oh so scary
I've read BellyRub's blog and am so very proud of his genius. I am also scared about how similar our writing styles are.

Should I be surprised?
No.
Am I surprised?
Yes.
Am I proud and happy?
Oh yeah, you betcha.
:: Dotty 3:04 PM [+] ::
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History
On my way home from work yesterday I was listening to NPR. The nightly essayist was talking about butterflies and using some exquisite language to talk about them, much the same way Dottie describes various things. Except I noticed distinctive contrasting styles. This lady was reading a passage describing a yellow butterfly that was riding on her husband's back during a hike, and she was so overwrought with the beauty of nature she probably could have died. It dawned on me that Dotty has never written about such an experience, and I thought that was refreshing. I find very few people refreshing. So, I decided to call Dotty and request more of her wisdom. What I got was my very own BellyRub website...how refreshing.

Work
Yes even BellyRub has a job. He is a staffing manager, works 50-60 hour weeks with people who get paid $6.00 and hour. I am not complaining by any stretch, I have met some incredible people…and some “gems.” Here is a story about a “gem.”

I had a position open for a QA tech. I called and made some appointments for some interviews. One of the people that showed up mentioned that they were a little sensitive about some things. Naturally, I pressed for more information. She actually started to well up, and cry…in the interview. Apparently she had something the matter with her dentures, hereinafter referred to as “chompers,” and they were stanky. So I said ok, thinking that never in my life would I offer this position to this woman. There may be other positions that she may be qualified for…

So we go to the testing room and she asked to use the bathroom and I show her. She went back to do the test saying, “thank you, I guess I had too much coffee.” I guess. After it took her 2.5 hours to complete the 45 minute test I gave her, two sets of 15 questions; I went in and looked at her results…needs training. I said, “ok we will give you a call.” She said, “I got your chair a little wet.” What? How the hell did you do that, was not said. I said it was ok that she did that and showed her out. Getting a little more scared by the second I walked back into the testing room. Looked at the chair and saw a rather large stain right in the middle. The room smelled not so faintly of urine. I wrote “POC” on the top of her application to indicate Pissed On Chair.
:: Belly Rub 11:11 AM [+] ::
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YO!
Bellyrub was chastising me lightly for not keeping up with my blogging responsibilities. My new job, then, is to give him an outlet for his creativity. And maybe he and I will play little posting games.
:: Dotty 12:15 PM [+] ::
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