Friday, December 14, 2007

The Comforts of Childhood

Sitting here, I am thinking back to some of my fondest childhood memories. While there are some fairly (more than) shitty ones filtered in there, my grandmother (who is now a freaking SAINT now) gave me some of the best ones.

There was that time that she was making these cookies that had like every chip known to man in them plus molasses and peanut butter and nuts and shit, when she got a phone call. My sister and I managed to snag the batter bowl off of the table and proceeded to eat every last drop of batter by the time she returned. Boy did we get our asses beat for that one. Good times.

Then there was the time my cousin's mom called be a nasty name for beating the shit out of her pansy-assed little boy and I made a rotten concoction out of flour and water and some other shit and dumped it over her head. She chased me around the campground for like an hour, but as I was not yet a smoker (I think I was about 12 at the time) I managed to elude capture. The entire time she was swearing at me in Spanish, being from Mexico, I taunted and laughed at her until she finally gave up to go home and make tacos.

But today my little lovelies, I want to talk about my favorite thing from childhood: Grape Dimetapp. Holy fuckballs did that shit make everything all better. As I sit here, wracked with chills from the latest viral infection to invade my holy temple of awesomeness, I am reminded of the many times that I was ill and my grandma said to me: "Baby, just get down some of that medicine from the cabinet and we'll make you all better." She would give me a healthy swig of the divine nectar and cuddle with me until I slipped off into the netherworld of waving colors and disco music. I never realized that Grape Dimetapp was addictive. All I knew was that when I was sick it made me feel better and DID NOT taste like the inside of a hippo's cooter like that shitty ass other medicine. So in reality, my grandma was the first person to get me high, but it made me feel better. I can't remember what the original ingredients in that medicine were, but I remember hearing that they eventually had to redesign the recipe and it soon lost all potency. If my imagination serves me correctly, I do believe that it was made up of equal parts rum, speedball, Blue #17, cacao beans eaten and then defecated by rhesus monkeys, and water. I could be wrong though. Whatever it was, I sure wish I had some now since what I thought was a three day long hangover from red wine, was in actuality the bubonic plague.

Now if I could only garner up the energy to clean my cunting dirty house. Stupid fucking thing. I am sooooo sick of cleaning. I hate it. I would rather give myself a brillo pad douche than have to clean the mess that is my house before my family gets here. I am fairly certain that my laundry loads are going to beat my last record of 22. I am positive that I am going to have to scrub my floors. And by scrub I mean get down on my hands and knees with hot, Clorox water for the first go round and regular hot water for the rinsing. In my opinion, floors aren't clean unless they are cleaned with Clorox. Then for my wood floors, I will repeat, but replace the Clorox with vinegar. Plus I have about 478 dozen cookies to make with my kids this weekend, food shopping for the holiday meals, more cleaning, three soccer games, homework with SuperDiva, Christmas Card addressing, present wrapping, gift shipping and a whole cocksucking load of other shit to get finished. Arghhhhh!!!!

And let's not forget my new project: THE MANCARD GAME. Avi and I came up with the basic premise, but I need to think about it some more before we put it out there. Sounds like fun doesn't it? I am sure I will get to that about the same time I finish up my perverted Pinocchio story that is way past due.

Oh and I am pissed at RWA. How dare he post about a radio interview regarding HOOTERS and not even think about inviting me. Me? ME????? Seriously? Does he not know what I did for a living for three years? Don't worry though, I called him out on it. Now I am busting his balls here as well.

Happy Weekend Dear Ones!!!

21 comments:

wafelenbak said...

Good heavens, feel better soon. This time of year is stressful enough (especially for women who end up doing everything and are such perfectionists about it, I swear to god!!) without having the plague as well. :(
Whenever I get sick I want to watch the Flintstones. They were always on right before my daddy got home and gave me a little kiss and a tuck-in on the couch. :)

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Mix together that Clorox and vinegar, and you've got the makings for a Brillo douche. It may not do your floors any good, but your poon will be squeaky clean.

golfwidow said...

I'm so relieved. I thought I was the only one who used to get stoney from the grape Dimetapp. (Damn, that stuff tasted good, too.)

Manny said...

Hope you're feeling better!

"...inside of a hippo's cooter..."

The image that keeps on giving.

lspoon said...

I'm am such a cleaner. I'm allergic to every cleanser out there but I get down on my hands and knees and scrub...everything. I even clean the toilet by hand (my hands clad in pink rubber gloves of course).

If we ever get together I think I will give you the gift of me cleaning your house.

But I don't do laundry.

BottleBlonde said...

I do believe that it was made up of equal parts rum, speedball, Blue #17, cacao beans eaten and then defecated by rhesus monkeys, and water.

I'm laughing my flat ass off!

I don't know how you enjoyed that grape Dimetapp shizz. I've always had a hard on for the Pepto Bismol. Mmmmmmm. Pink chalk. *takes a swigg from the pink bottle*

Miss Kitty said...

"Tastes like the inside of a hippo's cooter?" HahahahahaaAAAAAA!!! Dammit, ADW, you did it again! You made me spit Coca-Cola all over my computer monitor!

Tug said...

So does this mean I don't get Grandma of the Year until I get the little ones high?

Christmas should be fun this year... ;-)

George said...

Get better .. and I love the image of you on your hands and knees and not scrubbing floors

abstractjenn said...

Jesus you make me laugh. I LOVED grape dimetapp it was easily my first addiction.

Do yourself a favor and get someone to clean your house for the holiday. Trust me on this one - it'll be worth it.

The highlights...

"The inside of a hippo's cooter"

"My hold temple of awesomeness"

"I do believe that it was made up of equal parts rum, speedball, Blue #17, cacao beans eaten and then defecated by rhesus monkeys, and water. "

"Brillo douche"

You fucking rule

Kim Ayres said...

I think you need to wait until the very last minute, then leave the country and change your identity. Someone else can then do the cleaning

Miss Britt said...

I wish my kids would drink more Dimetapp.

metalmom said...

You are so cool!

zen wizard said...

Clearly, Grape Dimetapp is Little Kid Crack.

I think I mentioned this before, but I really think it's time you shell out for the Maid Brigade.

Chuck said...

You are hilarious!!

I spent all day Friday trolling your archives. (Is it just me, or does that sound dirty?) And I enjoyed it very much. (More innuendos)

I hope you feel better. I think that if you get sick, you aren't drinking enough alcarmahol. If you keep a high enough BAC, germs can't live in your body.....

Chuck

Avitable said...

1. Hire a housecleaner.
2. Get on that mancard project, will ya?
3. Send me some cookies. Please?

RWA said...

My goodness. You are really upset about this Hooters thing, aren't you?

You are more than welcome to be the featured guest on the show to discuss the Hooters concept and what it's like on the inside.

5 of 9er said...

Grape Dimetapp... I'm on it now!

Diesel said...

Man, you were a freaking terror. My grandmother used to get me high and touch me.

Memphis Steve said...

Why is it that all the hot girls were monsters as children? I guess all that hotness was just burning them up inside prior to puberty and had to come out in the form of absolute terrorism.

"If my imagination serves me correctly"

I loved this line, above all others. And you had plenty of other golden ones in there, too. You should write sex novels for a living. You are a genius.

Paul said...

I miss REAL Dimetapp. Not this fake crap they're putting out these days. Three kids develop holes in their heart, and they take a drug off the market. Pussies.

Also, "hippo's cooter" has finally popped me into a good mood. So thanks.