Baboo aka “Aunt Maxine” the Original Grande Dame of the South

Sometimes I wonder why it is that when people get older they think it is okay to give away used presents?           

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I loved my Grandmother but I don’t think she ever gave anyone anything that was new or even not on the “reduced for quick sale” shelf.          

She would give away bottles of Prince Matchabelli Cologne that were so old that you’d be better off drinking them instead of wearing them cause all you could smell was the alcohol which had more value than the cologne supposedly did.

And some of our relatives really needed the alcohol based on their lives. JK.     

My Grandmother prided herself in throwing the last few coins at a store’s bottom line as they closed their doors forever. She was also the master of re-gifting.     

 

 

I loved it until she got older and I had to wrap 110 presents every year. And just what were these presents? Well, lots of the same stuff – nail polish that was so old it couldn’t be remixed to make one color – the chemicals just floated around on top occasionally marbled in with the actual pigment.

Rusty nail clippers. Must have been a leak in the store ceiling and they were probably ten pairs for a dollar. Maybe twenty. And what were they packaged in? A jewelry box of course.            

 

 

Some lucky relative would get a $750.00 ring or something and the salesperson ringing up the sale would enquire, “Now, Ma’am, is there anything else I can get for you today?”              

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why yes, dear, so glad you asked. I’d like a case of those handsome and stately looking navy boxes with the glossy finish like the one you just gave that lady”.”Well, ma’am those boxes are rather expensive and we only give them out with a purchase”. “Well I am purchasing this ring, I’ll take fifty of them, dear”.  
    

“I’m sorry ma’am I just can’t do that I could lose my job”. “Well, Matthew, is it, I can’t read your tag, something Biblical I do recall, you are a handsome one. 

Now I am going to give you my business card – it is green and white with one of our very popular President’s on it – oh, look, I have two of them. You can trade them at the lunch counter at Woolworths for your girl – surprise her one day on her break from the office”. “Ma’am really I can’t” (besides Woolworth’s closed down about twenty years ago). “Well, it is OUR little secret”. Seeing the pictures of Honest Abe, again stating, “Ma’am I just can’t do that”.   
    

“Well, I never, I just won’t, I just, well, I, I am old enough to be your Mother, now dear, do you want that sale or not?” “I can always go to Beckner’s Fine Jewelers where I have traded with them since 1947.” (Beckner’s closed in 1979 for the record). You wouldn’t want to lose that commission”.            

“Ma’am I am sorry but I just can’t do that”. “Okay, dear, may I speak with your manager?” “Certainly”.

“Hello (glancing over her glasses to read his name tag), Bill, I’m Maxine P. You may call me Mrs. P because of the difference in our ages”.Obviously you are a handsome and dashing young man with ambitions of sitting on the board of this company some day. And I’d like to help you get there.”          

“Let me tell you what I’d like to do”.           

 

At this time, she places her right hand on his then very slowly places her left hand on top of her right hand with her beautifully polished nails revealing two very large rocks given two her by my Grandfather.          

At the time the combined value of the two rings was $32,000.00 Something only Fred Flintstone could appreciate while sitting in Milbourne Dryesdale’s office. And all the while making the average person on the street think of the fact that things that big (and expensive) should come with a steering wheel.         

“Here is what I am going to do, reaching into her purse, she removes the two white gloves she no longer wears in public as women stopped doing that years ago but it still makes a statement that she would wear them if they were still the “in” thing to do because she is a grand dame of the South and a perfect lady in every sense of the word in her eyes.         

Placing the gloves on the counter, she pulls out a light blue pin striped business size check of Boss Hog fame including a six digit check number (yes, in relation to the Boss Hog comment, every car she ever owned was a Cadillac – always the biggest one available sans the bull horns of course in favor of the traditional wreath and crest of GM’s finest product).         

“Now dear, what is your favorite number?” “Seven, how nice, Here is a check for $27.00, and I’ll take TWO cases of those handsome blue boxes.”     

Yes, she has now increased the quantity as the price has gone from ten dollars to $37.00. I always wanted to stand there with a flash card with the number nine on it so they’d get the $29.00 check.I knew this technique all too well.After all, she was a fan of Mr. Barker of Price is Right fame and did her own deals like this on a regular basis. People who favored the number one got the raw end of the deal.      

Leaving the store with two cases of gift boxes, the sales rep states” Now, Mrs. P if there is ever anything else you need you just let me know”. “Why yes, dear, ribbon and tissue paper – you almost forgot to give it to me.” Only my Grandmother. She was a classic.    

 

So each year, it became my job to package and wrap these “gifts”.

I do a beautiful job of wrapping presents by the way (what do you expect, so I’m gay, I also climb on the wings during pre-flight to check fuel but you don’t hear anyone accuse me of being straight).

I would put a little strip of paper on the outside telling what was on the inside. I never printed anything like ‘melted lipstick – looks like a rough summer blend’ or ‘melted lipstick – obviously the lipstick melted in the sun at the sidewalk sale as the carpet was being removed from the store for non payment and therefore can’t be twisted up for application’.

Yes, lipstick was the only thing on the tag. Or nail clippers. Or a set of emery boards with the TWA logo on them or Pan Am eye shades or BOAC drink stirs, a set of five in light blue (BOAC was the British Overseas Airways Corporation now known as British Airways).

She traveled the globe and I firmly believe that her carry on baggage was empty when brought on board and stuffed to the max when she deplaned.

We had more airline items than you could imagine. Yes, when she passed away, she still had smoked almonds in packages that still had the NAVY Piedmont Airlines logo on them and a picture of a spiffy DC-7 on the back.

Of course, there were also the famous Planters Dry roasted peanuts in the baby blue and white packaging with the guppy on the back – 737 with air stairs providing service to her open air, six gate airport – I am not kidding – where only gates one and five were ever used.

One was Piedmont and Five was United. Occasionally Hughes Airwest shared gate one and I think all of the other gates existed because of the spacing between the concrete pillars and the fact that a bored airport employee really wanted to use the numbers two, three, four and six as well to stay busy that day.

Oh the stories I can tell about that airport and Aunt Janie. I must find the pics and re post this.

This year I saw my Mom drift into that Category.

She did alright for Christmas – I got flannel sheets but no flannel boyfriend. Hehe.

Oh, but my Birthday gift was classic – a can opener she bought in 1983. Do you realize that some of my contacts here were not even born in ‘83 yet? Strange.

I have never owned an electric can opener so I placed it somewhere special — under the sink where the cleaning supplies are. Now Audrey (my housekeeper) can open the cans of Comet and Ajax with flair. Hehe. Yeah, I really do use that stuff. Mix it with Kaboom and that will take the paint off the walls, or the skin off your b*lls! hehe oops- and this is why I don’t blog openly because of slip ups like that one.

Wait, I’ve got it. I will establish another site here. Private but will let almost anyone join it. I will not share my name and pic or maybe I will. I have racy material.

Again, I am not always trying to be an angel and do enjoy making others laugh. But I have so many conservative gay friends. Yeah, that could only happen to me. Their idea of sex is comparing notes over the phone of college admission website pics. hehe.

(C) 2008 Graham Squared Media LLC

 

 

The Gore-Rilla Boys…… My Friends Craig and Clay

I am from the South originally.  I have a lot to say and have no real life so I love to share things that are on the brain – just a little too much at times I am afraid.

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Take my friends Clay and Craig. These guys are like saints when it comes to listening.

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Craig calls in the mornings from time to time on his very long commute to another planet for work where he teaches ten year olds something or another.

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He is the only person I know that owns an industrial hole punch machine capable of punching holes in 2500 sheets of paper at one time.

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Craig is the type of friend I love to have cause I can tell him anything, he laughs at my lame jokes, and he has a killer smile – oh yeah, his boyfriend is hot, too but I wouldn’t ever in my entire life want him as a teacher. Those poor kids. They don’t have a chance. Sometimes I think he chains them to the desk to be sure no one attempts a massive walkout during his class.

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He documents everything they do – even the hole punching thing is so they won’t lose anything – ever. He probably has a pet that sits there and scans each student’s work so a final copy is never altered.

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And he is very smart – never debate this man. You will never win. His family wanted him to be an attorney but he decided he would share the powerful gift of knowledge instead thus guaranteeing him a life of under-payment and under-appreciation.

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He is the only person I know who speaks more languages than I have fingers. And if your first name is Habib and your last name has 21 consonants and one vowel in it, chances are not only can he properly pronounce your last name because he once lived in your native country, but can also tell you about your crazy aunt who was the talk of the village.

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He is short – not real short put it is like a package deal. Knowledge is power and I wouldn’t want to challenge him to anything that I didn’t know like the back of my hand.

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The most frightening thing he ever said to me was “well, I disagree and let me tell you why….” Yeah, I froze in my tracks.

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Hehe – if you are reading this Craig you know I love you like a neighbor who doesn’t mow their lawn – ever! hehe, again, just kidding.

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Talking to Craig is cool cause he never interrupts – verbally. But the noises I hear in that car are something else. They are so bad that I used to have to stop and ask what was going on. Now I know most of the sounds by heart.

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I can point out a bad truckers, a squealing pedestrian, a fist pounding on the window, the sound of the breeze as he putters down the highway like a 747 on a short field take off – translated, he thinks his spouse drives fast – well, either that is some really loud Texas wind or Craig lost a foot years ago and couldn’t afford a prosthesis so he opted for an anvil instead.

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No doubt in my mind that with 20 degrees of flaps and that boy’s one hour commute would be a ten minute cruise under IAH airspace. A morning without Craig on the phone these days, requires me to drink tea as something has to get my adrenaline going. Talking to him does that.

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I now know a really unique sound which is the sound of him opening the car door at a tool booth. Why would one do such a thing if the window works? To collect loose change that has been left on the ground or in the change receptacle.

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I firmly believe that the citizens of the great state of Texas purchase snacks for Craig on a daily basis by way of failing to collect change. And he says that this is legal. I guess so. I wouldn’t make a u-turn on a 16 lane highway with four HOV lanes two bike lanes and four service lanes to go and pick up that nickel I dropped. I’d have to think twice if it were a quarter, however.

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Now, about Clay, he is just too sweet to tell me to shut up that he is bored. He goes and gets in the car but doesn’t drive anywhere – to my knowledge. He smokes so maybe he is being kind to his hubby by not doing it in the house.

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And I am sure that there are periods where he falls into REM sleep but I never know it because I never shut up long enough to take a breath and listen to see if HE is still breathing better yet snoring.

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Clay is younger than I but I do look up to him as a father figure, well till he told me what he said in Wal*Mart one day. Yeah, I LMAO at that one. I’ll put a link here somewhere and you can ask him what he said.

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So, when I can’t bother Craig and Clay (I was lost this morning as Craig wasn’t driving to work and I had no one with whom to share my occasionally odd thoughts), I want to blog.

But my thoughts at times are racy and can be of an adult nature though sometime interesting and informative in content. Yeah, along the lines of “Everything you wanted to know about (insert something related to sex, gay people, or aviation here) but were afraid to ask”.

 

 

 

 Craig and Clay

 

 

 

(C) 2008 Graham Squared Media LLC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Maybe We Can Make Friendship Under Blanket….”

Playlist to go with this blog (right click on POP OUT PLAYER and select open in new tab) then click back onto this page and you can read while you hear the music. This works best in Explorer 7.

“Maybe we can make friendship under blanket”

 

 

Yeah, okay wtf?  I joined My Partner dot com a while back and got a message on my phone that this  guy named Gary, yeah, GARY sent me a message and wants to know more about me.

 

This is what I saw when I opened my mail:

 

 

 

 

***If you can’t read this due to the small print (this site limits the size of pics) here is what it says…….

 

“User Offline

 

I’m Gerey from Asbury Park, New Jersey, US and I have a message for you:

 

Received: Mon Feb 18, 2008

 

Subject: Hi……….

 

Hello!

How are you?  I have noticed your profile and I like it.I have decided to write a message for you.I never thought that I will write first.If you not against ,we may know each other more.Say me, what do you think about it? I hope we can make the correspondence with each other.Iwill wait for your letter or any answer at paradiko25atyahoo dot com

 

The best regards,Mihail…”

 

*All typos as they appeared in the message

 

 

What the f*ck!  Pardon the expression.  This is the worst of all the dating sites I have ever tried.  This guy goes by three different names.  I’m not sure if the guy in the picture even speaks English or knows what his real name or screen name or alias is.  But I don’t doubt that he was full of Vodka when the pic was made.

 

 

 

Let’s face it, I am no Greek Adonis Prized male.  I’ve worked really hard to lower my standards.  I have them down as follows:

 

1.         Must clip nails – fingers and toes

2.         Shaves at least once every three days.

3.         Must shower daily

4.         Chews with his mouth closed

5.         Speaks English on a first grade level (I can either teach him more in the future or he can just remain quiet around me).

6.         Is breathing, has a pulse.

7.         Has some form of ID – Driver’s License, State ID, Passport, VISA, Green Card (to him he is thinking a hot AMEX card), Illegal Alien Summons,  Speeding ticket, Parking ticket, whatever. 

8.         Proof of residency:  Power Bill, Phone Bill, Cable Bill,Garbage Bill.  If he can’t produce one of these, then a cut off notice or collection notice for any of those companies will suffice.

9.         Has some type of income (no, I don’t want to know how he got it, just don’t expect me to pay for everything).

10.       Has at least one living relative on the globe.  Anywhere.

11.       Is housebroken.

12.       Doesn’t do drag (I know three people that now hate me with this statement).  Sorry, I just can’t accept or understand that one as hard as I wanted to try.  I’ll make an exception for Halloween where it is just a known fact that that is the one day of the year that a gay man can let his inner girl child come out.

13.       Knows how to operate a hammer without a picture based tutorial

14.       Won’t make passes at the yardmen or the housekeeper.

15.       Can identify and operate a toothbrush and toothpaste at least three times a day.

16.       Doesn’t have a drug habit and is not a card carrying member of Alcoholics Associated

17.       When he opens his mouth, his purse doesn’t fall out.  Translated – sounds so gay that you are tempted to ask if he plans to run the local GAP store.  Yeah, I am pissing off people right and left at the moment.

18.       Has some religious belief.  So I am gay and still believe in God.  I don’t have time to justify or explain all of that in this blog/complaint/bulletin/gripe session.

19.       Has a firm handshake

20.       Owns and wears at least one pair of white underwear (and if all he owns are black, he can keep walking).

21.       Looks?  You must be kidding.  As we speak I am surrounded by lamps that all burn 7 watt light bulbs.  Any other lights in the house are on dimmers.  Mixed with four drinks and they will look like Prince Charming when the sun is down.  I don’t think it is realistic to ask for a guy who is attractive.  That’s more like a wish and I’m over the whole wishing thing.

22.       Common sense.  Yeah, I can over look that one, too.  Dumb as a box of rocks?  If he owns a pair of overalls, was found working on a farm, or is from the country/hills, then he is exempt from that one as well.

 

 

 

And to think, that is after I narrowed my 23-Chapter handbook down to a list.

 

Well, I could list more but, this has been a joke.  I spend more damned time trying to market myself then I do work it seems.  And that is a job in itself.

 

 

Where the hell is the entrepreneurial spirit for a company like rent a date or rent a boyfriend or lease a husband?  Or in my case, finance a significant other for life.

 

Maybe I should be starting that kind of company and not a charter airline.  Pissed, mad, irritable, crotchety, frustrated – did someone call me?  Maybe just a little.  Sure I will answer to any of those words along with geek, nerd and fag.  Though I’m not real big on fag.  I will NOT answer to girlfriend or princess, however.  Bitch I will answer to for my straight friend Kevin because it is his way of showing acceptance – again another blog for another day.

 

I am convinced that all of the good guys are taken.  I have four here that I really like but two are taken (with each other but I love them and forgive them for screwing up the whole concept of  a typical gay relationship where one guy is hot and has no life ambition and the other one is less than attractive and keeps his boyfriend up – they are both hot, have jobs, and are kind people – how in the heck did that happen?  Just kidding Gore-Rilla peeps – you know I still love you both.)  Another one has a boyfriend but dates other people and the other has no idea that I still like him though I expressed it some time ago.  The last one is single but he likes someone.  I think he lost interest in me some time ago.

 

Well, it is official.  Anytime I need an excuse to drink alone, I can go to mypartner dot com and read my one and only letter that was a response to their long ass survey about me and what I am seeking in life.  200,000 men and I can’t even get one that speaks English as a second language.

 

Yes, his email is on the clip.  Do you really think I care?  I am sure there is a staff of Russian men working for peanuts that write these letters, throw some pics together from Clearasil that were marked “BEFORE” and reply to loser members like me to make us feel that our $39.95 was well spent.

 

Believe me, no reply would have been a better sign.  That letter makes me think of someone who went on the Price is Right and almost won a car but instead got stuck with a goat.  Well, that would have been “Lets Make A Deal” but some people aren’t old enough to remember that show.

 

This is the last year that I will be in my 30’s and it has gone down hill since my birthday. 

 

I’d buy a blow up doll but with my luck, he’d either have a leak somewhere or I would cut my self on some jagged plastic edge that the factory worker forgot to trim and melt down.  I really don’t need a cut on any private area of my body. 

 

And I don’t need to go see a urologist for a second time in my life.  The first time I was in college and my girlfriend decided to sprain my penis during the height of the moment to be sure that it was as good for her as it would have been for me (had that incident not taken place)  Yeah, she was the one with the great orgasm that day and I was the one who wanted to cry after sex. 

 

I went to my best friend’s dad who told me he had seen “tons of purple penises” in his practice and that is was a simple sprain. 

 

Let me tell you, there is no such thing as a simple sprain when it comes to that body part.  And seriously, that kinda stuff could only happen to me.  That was the last female I ever slept with.

 

Okay, I vented.  Now I need a bottle of Peppermint Schnapps and a straw.  Yes, my very gay side, my inner bitch just came out.  And I don’t say that often.  Often enough, I am now thinking.

 

I can name 12 people right now that if they read this would not only delete me but also block me right after sending their letter of hate to me.  Oh well.  Guess I am still bent out of shape a bit.  I’ll get over it.

 

And there is your proof.  I can be a nice guy but sometimes I have to be human.  And my human side is in a bad mood at the moment.

 

 

***Ignore typos – I just write this stuff.  If I read it, I’d be more depressed than when I started.

 

 

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Basically I should just go suck a lemon (here is the way I’d do it):

 

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His Incentive to work (Gerey, Gary, Miahil, Paradiko, or whatever his real name is)….

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My Incentive to lower standards…

 

 

 

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Be sure to throw these in (no need for a glass):

 

 

 

 

 

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 And, as a side note, here is a copy of the email I just received from myPartner dot com, who refused to refund my money (after several people told me they got the same e-mail from this “Gary” dude and made the staff at MP aware of the situation – so no, this wasn’t a real reply but it was the only one I got after writing my life story and wasting $39.95 to have it posted)……..

 

 

Dear friend of myPartner!  (I am not a FRIEND, rather disgruntled victim)
 
myPartner.com is looking for couples who have met via our website!
If you know of men who have fallen in love after meeting on myPartner.com, please contact our offices ASAP! We are planning something VERY SPECIAL for one lucky couple on July 25th in San Francisco.
 
We’ll need both men’s full names, addresses, email and phone numbers.  Their myPartner user names will also be needed (however not initially).
 
Sincerely,

 
Adam (withheld out of minimal respect)

Concierge
 
 
myPartner dot com
415.000.0000

 

 

***And for the record when I told them I would blog this, using a screen capture, they said “Go Ahead, we don’t care” followed by, “where can we see it”.  I told them to google their site and maybe they’d eventually find the link – you know, the way they eventually found me stupid enough to enroll in their service.