Here goes with the speech therapist
Oh, man, shoot me now. Looks like I'm still on Gramps, something abt his speech therapist Christine having Gramps practice his "I" sound while gazing in2 her eyes. Gah, I can only hope 4 a midweek topic change, cuz this mite kill me.
In other news, when Mike finally shuffled in2 the house yesterday afternoon, w/nothing but his little handmade card 4 Mom? U shda seen how pissed Dee was @ him. Boy did she ever hiss! And he acted all baffled like he cdn't possibly have dun NEthing wrong. "Dee, U're not my mother! Mommy is my mother!" Snerk.
Apes
In other news, when Mike finally shuffled in2 the house yesterday afternoon, w/nothing but his little handmade card 4 Mom? U shda seen how pissed Dee was @ him. Boy did she ever hiss! And he acted all baffled like he cdn't possibly have dun NEthing wrong. "Dee, U're not my mother! Mommy is my mother!" Snerk.
Apes
Labels: boring, depressing, Gramps
posted by April Patterson @ 6:18 AM
19 Comments:
At 2:11 PM,
Anonymous said…
yo apes, i wuz hanging out @ mom's bakery again this weekend, so i could flirt w/ the hot new baker guy mom hired. he is super sexxxy. neway, i worked the cash register 4 awhile. peeps luv 2 c a icon like me mixing w/ the "regular folks," it is awesum publicity. i made sure i wuz wearing my stella mccartney halter top, an' javier the baker wuz practically drooling on me.
so, i wuz there when iris came in w/ ur grampa jim.
iris: now, pick out ur treat, dear.
jim: (points 2 a eclair) yes!
iris: no dear, there's too much sugar in that. pick something different.
jim: (points 2 a napoleon) go!
iris: jim, honey, you know you can't have sugar, you're diabetic. pick out something else.
jim: (points 2 a brownie) now!
iris: jim! that is the first time you've said the word "now" in a semi-appropriate context! i'm so proud of you! but you know that brownie has too much sugar. miss, i will have an eclair, a napoleon, and a brownie, and jim here will have a sugar-free sugar cookie made with whole-grain flour.
jim: boxcar! boxcar! boxcar!
iris: no, u can't play with john's trains, dear. we haven't been invited over there since xmas.
jim: boxcar caboose engine!
me: that'll b $11.99.
iris: *tsk* don't u have a senior discount?
me: that's with the senior discount. is that 4 here or 2 go?
iris: 4 here.
me: well, have a seat at ne table, an' i'll bring out ur treats.
so i made up a tray an' brot out the treats. iris totally started scarfing down the eclair an' when jim tried 2 grab the napoleon, iris slapped his hand an' sed, "bad jim! u know u can't have that!" an' she went back 2 gobbling. well, then ur gramps kinda eyed me funny, an' he dropped his cookie on the floor. almost like it wuz on purpose. i bent over 2 pick it up, an' when i looked up, ur gramps wuz totally ogling me! looking down my top an' everything!
i wuz like, "what do u think ur looking at?"
an' ur gramps sed, "eeeeeiiiiyyyyeeesss," as he leered down my blouse.
an' iris didn't even look up frum her munchies, she just goes, "he's saying u have pretty eyes, dear."
an' i wuz like, "sha, rite!"
just so u know, apes, even if he can't talk, ur gramps is still in there. an' he's still a perv.
becks
At 2:18 PM,
howard said…
April,
I remember Christine, the speech therapist from the days when I used to work at the Milborough Seniors’ Living Palace. She did have very attractive eyes, so I can see why your grandfather might want to gaze into them. Unfortunately her speech therapy practices were a little unusual. I remember accidentally seeing one of her presentations on sounding out the word “I”, and from my operatic training I was a little appalled to see her defining the sounds not as the diphthong of “ah” and “ee”, but as “eye” and “ee”. She also tried to define the “ee” part of the sound with a picture of a mouth smiling, which is odd, since I know from my opera training; you use your tongue and not your teeth to form the sound of “ee”.
However, I cannot fault her method of keeping her male clients interested in her topic. She would put the little pictures of mouths right in front of her nipples, and the old geezers were always paying close attention. If she only knew about proper sound production, she would be a first rate speech therapist. I suppose the modern speech language pathology is more about the flash (pretty pictures, and proper use of breasts while teaching), instead of the sound-forming notions I know from my operatic past.
By the way, Becky is right about Javier the baker, being hot. He has excellent buns. You should check them out some time.
Howard Bunt
At 2:37 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Mom loved my handmade card for Mother’s Day and she did declare it to be her best Mother’s Day present ever, especially the poem I wrote in her honour. It goes like this:
My mother, Elly, is the best in the world.
At my head, there was love in the coffee cup she hurled.
When the going was bad, or somewhat icky or rough,
She said, “I’ll takes the Stibbs’ house. You’ll get my old stuff.”
My mother was kindly, when I misbehaved,
And she even had time, to make sure my sheets were shaved.
Her shrieking sounds are music to my ears.
Especially after I’ve had a few beers.
Even when the pets in her life have been treating her shitty.
Mom still finds the time to tell Liz she’s overfeeding her kitty.
In face of a certain Martian teenager who’s an angry nut,
Mom puts her foot down and says, “Dress practical, not slut.”
Mother is friendly and she knows where it’s at,
Even when that “it” is on a cabinet and is a cat.
My mom is just perfect and her puns are a hoot.
Her only fault is she can’t walk on ice in boots.
I thought your readers would enjoy seeing a well-written poem for a change. By the way, formerly little sis, is there some reason why my kids keep saying, “Can I have a puppy, daddy?”
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 2:47 PM,
Anonymous said…
april, honoria got coloured contacts over the weekend. if she asks if u notice nethin’ different ‘bout her, u shud say “eyes” and not “did u have a boob job?”
At 3:31 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Dearest future sister. Honestly there are times when I wonder if I should change my orientation. Boys can be so crude sometimes. I am sure I will forgive my Jeremy flower before the day is out, but I am going to be slightly miffed at him until then.
The Delaney-Forsythe household devoted all weekend to Mater in honour of Mother’s Day. I am sure Gerald has told you all about how we all laboured together to make her weekend special. Gerald knitted her a lovely white sweater. Older brother took a shower, combed his hair, and wore something other than sweat pants. Pater took Mater to her favourite restaurant, the one with the built-in binging and purging rooms. Mater was quite excited to have a daughter in the binging and purging rooms with her, and she showed me her techniques for getting that last bit of nourishment out of you, so you can keep your figure. It was the first motherly thing Mater had done with me in the years since I was sent to the Cashwell Day School and was forgotten by my entire family. She even got me my first feather. I love my Mater. I want to be just like her.
Mater told me the sexiest thing on a woman’s body is her eyes, and so we experimented with coloured contacts. Pater figured out the difference ever so quickly with Mater’s white-coloured contacts. He is so smart. My brothers couldn’t figure it out. Mater said young men were naturally stupid and needed training before they would be like Pater. Mater is so smart when it comes to men. I have all kinds of things to teach my Jeremy flower, and one of them is to look at my face and not the rest of my body when he talks to me. Boys are so crude.
Love,
Honoria Delaney-Forsythe
At 4:53 PM,
Anonymous said…
Dearest sister flower,
I liked you best with the very, very light gray contacts. They made you look icy and heartless. The opaque white contacts just make you look like a zombie.
Dearest April flower,
I was very proud of the white cardigan sweater I knitted for Mater from the finest pashmina wool. The cardigan is very warm yet lightweight. Poor Mater can't wear clothing weighing more than a few ounces, or she can't walk. Also, she starts to worry that she looks fat. But Mater loved my sweater. And, since our brother spilled applesauce all over his white sweatpants at the restaurant, the sweater secured my place as "most favorite son."
I was very happy to see Honoria bonding with Mater. Bonding with Mater usually involves crash dieting and bulimia, and I'm not good at those things. So I am glad to see Mater has a daughter who is willing to join her in her hobbies.
After our meal at the Vomitorium Grille, Mater wanted to conclude the outing by going to see a purebred white show poodle that had recently given birth to a litter of six puppies. Honoria and I were so excited to see the puppies, but Pater and our brother lost many points with Mater by running off somewhere.
As we left, Honoria made her big play for Best Child by saying, "Aren't you lucky, Mater--you only have three!" Mater was very pleased by the thought that it could have been worse--Pater could have coerced her into bearing twice as many "fat little pigs."
On the way home, we stopped at Krystle's Kakes and Pies for sugar-free meringue cookies (only 5 calories each!). I went up to the counter to order. While I did this, this old man stared at Mater and Honoria and said, "Eeeeeeeeeeeys." Mater thought he was complimenting Honoria on her new contact lenses, but given the part of anatomy the man was staring at, I'm not so sure. I was going to beat him up for leering at my sister, but then I realized it was your Grandpa Jim. So I gave him a pass. Just this time, though.
Yours, Gerald
At 5:18 PM,
April Patterson said…
honoria, i notice the coloured lenses rite away! they're v. striking.
becks, honoria, sorry abt grandpa's behaviour. he does have a cree-pee side 2 him, i'm sorry 2 say.
mike, mom likes nething u do, no matter how chintzy. i laid down major buxx 2 get a nice brunch 4 mom, dee, and the littles yesterday, plus i gave mom a necklace i know she has been wanting 4evs cuz she hints abt it whenev we pass the boutique. but u spend 5 mins writing a lousy pome w/crayons, and she acts like it's the v. best gift ever.
apes
At 5:44 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. It’s sad to see the green-eyed monster take over you (and I am not talking about Liz’s cat.) Next Mother’s Day, remember that mom prefers time and not gifts. It was not so much that I laboured over the creation of my excellent poem in honour of mom, but that I was willing to recite it to her in my finest dulcet tones over and over again, until I was getting fairly hoarse. Time, not gifts, formerly little sis. That is the key to mom’s heart.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 5:59 PM,
Anonymous said…
Dearest brother flower,
It is so infrequently that you comment on my appearance, at least in a complimentary fashion, per your recommendation, I have switched to the very, very light gray contacts. I know you said your girlfriend, April’s most common eye appearance was with speed-freak eyes, but I have not been able to find contacts which approximate that look. I don’t know April manages to do it, but you have told me the food her family makes can be extraordinary. Some of those casseroles you have mentioned, I think made me gain a kilogram, just listening to you describe them. Perhaps her diet affects her eyes.
Your enemy and fellow band member, Eva Abuya, had a differing opinion on my opaque white contacts. She said if she had a pair like them, she would look like Storm, getting ready to lightning a criminal to death, and not a zombie. She admired them greatly, which of course meant, as a point of Delaney-Forsythe solidarity, since she is mad at you, I can’t wear colour contacts she likes.
I think I forgot to thank you for threatening to beat up the old man at the cookie shop. Thank you ever so much, my protective brother flower.
Love,
Honoria Delaney-Forsythe
At 7:55 PM,
April Patterson said…
mike, i m not jellus, but i guess u need 2 tell yrself that 2 help 2 get yrself thru the day. whatevs.
apes
At 8:42 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Perhaps in your generation, “jealous” has a different meaning. I mean whatever you call the emotion, when mom says, “Mike’s gift is the best Mother’s Day present” and you say, “But it’s so chintzy! It’s a lousy poem he wrote in 5 minutes using crayons! I just paid for your brunch, and your necklace!” And then mom says, “Time. Not gifts, April.” Then you go storming off to your room, only to find Liz is still sleeping in the bed. That emotion is what I am talking about. When I was a teenager, I would have called it “jealous”, but perhaps your generation calls it “fo shizzle” or something like that.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 8:49 PM,
April Patterson said…
mike, 2 b jellus, i'd need 2 care. i've decided not 2 care. whatevs.
apes
At 8:54 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. So "care" is the word your generation uses. It doesn't sound like it has much street cred, but then again you do live in Milborough. Alright then. You were really "care" mom liked my Mother's Day present more than yours. That is what I was trying to say using your lingo.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 9:22 PM,
April Patterson said…
no, u idiot, "care" doesn't mean "jellus" 2 my "generation." "care" means "care." "jellus" means "jellus."
btw, if i really were jellus, i mite clue mom in on the fact that u totally 4got sunday was mother's day, and that if i hadn't reminded u, u wdn't have thrown 2gether that hasty, thotless mess u call a card. hm, mayB i am starting 2 feel jellus. mayB i'll go tell her all that. unless, mayB u give me sumthing i want 2 keep my distracted from all this "jellus."
apes
At 9:29 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. You are quite confusing today. Is “jellus” your generation’s slang spelling of “jealous” or is “jellus” your generation’s actual slang term for “jealous” or is “jellus” something your generation does with “gelatin”? I can’t tell if you are trying to threaten me, or if you are announcing what’s for dessert. Knowing you, it could be a bit of both.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 9:40 PM,
April Patterson said…
it's just how i spell "jealous." u friggin' knew that 2. don't piss me off cuz i think i want 2 tell mom all abt yr thotlessness. and how i found dee crying abt how u didn't care abt her and how she wda had the worst mother's day ever if i hadn't come thru w/that brunch. i'm getting ready 2 go have that lil talk w/mom cuz i'm sick of yr attitude.
apes
At 9:52 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Mom and Deanna and I are all in the kitchen enjoying some jello, they make in those little small serving sizes. There were quite a few in the refrigerator marked AMP for some reason. We’ve been having a nice conversation about your adoption. I told mom you want to have a little talk with her, and she said, “Not again! When will she learn to work out problems on her own?” I think she is ready for you. Come on down.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 9:55 PM,
April Patterson said…
amp = "april marian patterson."
that does it. i m gonna go find sumplace else 2 live. no1 cares abt me in this stupid house. i will never babysit 4 u again, mike, u foob.
apes
At 10:03 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Well if you’re not going to baby-sit for me again, can you at least pick up some more jello while you are out? This stuff is pretty tasty.
Love,
Michael Patterson
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