The Flip

as summer begins to heat up, and my cornchip puppiness begins to really kick in, i'm happy to say that everything is still going amazingly well for mp. it's true that i don't see her enough monday through thursday, but she always gives me most of the weekend. even better, she spends the time she doesn't give to me with the chickapea. i really love that girl; she knows where all the great gourmet puppy treats come from. last week's specials were barklava, puppanoli, and paddywaggins.

it's so nice to know that mp will be coming home at 3 or 4 sunday morning, panties in one hand, a bag of snacks for me in the other. it's true, i am pimping her out in a way... but my person doesn't seem to mind. in fact, i don't think i've seen her happier. ever. it's partly because of her professional strides; it's partly because she's just generally happy these days. but, it would be foolish not to acknowledge that some of the smiles come from time with the pea.

my person, for the last 7 years or so, has been in the terrible habit of putting the emotional and physical needs of others above her own. neither one of us is sure how it happened. we tried to make a flow chart, but it turns out that we both suck at microsoft excel. then we tried to write a timeline on paper, but we ran out of glitter pens. i guess, for now, it will remain a mystery, and mp will just have to accept all the attention she gets from the chickapea without knowing how she got there.

the flip is intense. sometimes my person is a little freaked out about having someone who is all about making sure mp is happy. it's overwhelming and flattering in turns. mp doesn't get why the pea feels this way-- or why it's so electric when they're together.

sometimes the mystery makes everything better.

You, uh, Lik-a Romantica?

Thank You, Jiggy

this puppy is all wagging tail, twitching whiskers, and floppy ears over the resigning of js giguere. my person was afraid that jiggy would go into free agency and cash in on the current goal-tending drought. i never doubted his loyalty. sometimes, puppies know best.

Na-Na-Nah Nah-Nah-Nah!

pimp-tress has a girl-friend.
pimp-tress has a girl-friend.

of course, the girlfriend comes with the entire cast of a telenovella.

From the Corner

when mp wished her papa a happy father's day, she talked with him for a while about her job, sharing the little details he was curious about. as they spoke, she realized that he was proud of what she did. he tells their extended family, his friends, and anyone who will listen about it. after all the school my person endured, the set backs, the time off she took in her mid-twenties to be a fuck-up... after all that, my person has the most amazing job--ever-- and she has the potential to be great at it. papa never really got past the 4th grade in school, and most of his memories are of standing in the corner as punishment for not being good enough. after a lifetime of working with his hands, of watching people with "authority" from the outside, he has really embraced mp's new position in life. being able to tell people "my grand daughter is a ______________" gives him a sense of pride and accomplishment. since he was the father figure in mp's life, i think he deserves it, and we are proud to be able to give that to him.

I Might Lick My Ass, but You Need a Mint

my person is reasonably tolerant of the occasional hygiene faux pax. once in a while, right guard goes left, breath is not so much "crest" as tumbled over a cliff, and starbucks stains happen-- not to her, of course. when she encounters the victims of these random acts of olfactory violence, she tries to remember that these are good people that are just a little down on their luck of the irish (spring).

having said that, she has asked me to send out a special message of care and concern to someone she sees daily:

stop eating out of the kitty litter box.

Mumbles

sometimes, in the funny doorway that leads to sleep, the convoluted makes sense. oh, sure, it's also where puppies can fly, mountains speak, and the sky is a purple swirl, but that half-conscious place is where fear doesn't shove marbles into the mouth of truth. it's also a dangerous place to be when someone is asking you questions, because they'll get an honest answer-- like it or not. when the pea slid next to mp in that doorway, she fished for something; later, mp realized she didn't really mind being caught.

Straight Boy Nightmare

this is one of the funniest things i've seen in a long time.
i laughed so hard, my tail got a cramp.

"you never make 'em touch!"

watch this with the sound turned on.

Tranquilo

after mp's stroll-n-savor through the girls of southern california, i think she's ready to begin the process of calming down. oh, not that way! my person is still not interested in getting boxed in again; after all, the first part of "settling down" is settling. ...but she's ready to offer a little more to the ones that matter and stop dallying so much with the ones that don't.

"Like a Cholo Dressed up for Easter"

go see knocked up.
go now.

I Think that Sea Lion is Checking Me Out

as soon as mp gets some time off-- from work and being a tramp-- i'll force her at sharp whisker-point to post some video from san diego.

then again, since i'm not in it, why would anyone care?

Who Knew?

she called. after too many days of phone checks, chp finally called mp.
my person was just wrapping up at work, so she invited chp to join her at pimpy's. (really, you're no one to mp if she hasn't taken you to pimpy's.) as they sat there, mp ran through her checklist:

still bitchy?
check.
hot without the uniform?
check.
decent sense of humor?
check. (okay, half a check...)

but as mp sat there, half listening to chp, she realized that chp would sleep with her-- in the swinging monkey way, not the pillow top mattress way. and while mp was definitely interested (chp's boobs were surprisingly robust without her vest), she really wanted to be with the chickapea. yeah. i know; it surprised the hell out of me, too. after a while, mp excused herself and headed home to mull over what it might be like if she offered the pea... more.

Oompa...

when mp woke up this morning, she was excited to see that the morning news had been replaced by willy wonka. then, just as we began to sing, she looked closer. that was no oompa loompa! that was dallas raines. the guy is orange-- no need to exaggerate, ted turnerized, technicolored, orange-- and perpetually hunkers down like he's straining in the bush. it's a little scary.

Public Service Announcement

tonight, on a very special cleopuptra...

PIMPTRESS: hung over?

MP: a little. i think i walked home in my chonies.

PIMPTRESS: oh, my god. you should not be drinking by yourself. you become a reckless tramp when you drink.

MP: i got to meet my neighbor. it's too bad that's the first time we've ever really spoken.

PIMPTRESS: do you remember your thoughts on the pea last night?

MP: no. but i think i told somebody "i love fucking you bestest" around 2 this morning.

PIMPTRESS: you were contemplating committing to her.

MP: oh. that would be bad, seeing as how i just played "wontcha be my neighbor."

PIMPTRESS: tramp.

MP: i think i might want to be committed to someone again... eventually. just not right now.

PIMPTRESS: yesterday you seemed kind of okay with the idea. take the risk!

MP: yeah, i probably was okay with it. then i got naked across the street. i doubt missa chickapea is okay with that kind of thing.

PIMPTRESS: yeah, but to each their own. was sex with your neighbor special?

MP: no. but the gingerbread man sharpied on my ass is.

The Great Sangria Experiment aka Love Thy Neighbor

after returning from her san diego adventures with the chickapea, mp was feeling restless. everything went well down south-- maybe too well. all of a sudden, my person was thinking about the "what ifs." what if mp just hopped on the straight bandwagon and settled for meaningless acceptance? what if she offered the pea exclusivity? what if she committed? it was getting ugly. contributing to the problem? the great sangria experiment.

see, mp is less than half the girl she used to be. in order to keep it that way, she's ha to modify a lot of things-- and alcohol intake is one of them. however, she started talking to the woman across the street about the power of a glass of good sangria, music, and dancing. it should be noted that mp has not really spoken to the woman at all in the years they've been neighbors. how did this conversation start? the woman pointed to the pink chucks that pimptress hates and said, "nice shoes."

hmmm. i'm a sheltered puppy, but i think that may have been a play on "nice shoes; wanna fuck?" then again, she may have just been tossing out a little sarcasm, because, well, the shoes are pink. since mp and neighbor girl were both lit an hour later, the world may never know.

the recipe went something like this:

two cans of Hansens Diet Tangerine Lime soda
one bottle of 2 Buck Chuck cabernet
one sliced apple
about one can diet Sunkist soda (more for a sweeter drink)

it sounds absolutely foul-- but it tasted fabulous! so fabulous in fact, that after neighbor girl and mp got drunk enough, they played a few games of strip candyland.

i'm pretty sure neighbor girl was cheating, because she always seemed to be heading for lollipop woods before mp even made it to the gumdrop pass. before you could say, "i'm lord licorice, here to spank lolly in front of king candy," mp had to keep taking things off. luckily, mp has always been a good loser.

The Happy Camper

it turns out, is not so happy.
somebody get that girl a nap- stat!

ah, well, mp has too much on her plate as it is.

chp watch, day three: no call as of yet, but we're not losing hope.

Hockey Dating 101

"Aren't you afrai of rejection?"
"You are crazy!"
"How do you know if they're gay or not?"
"Have you no shame?"

my person gets a lot of comments about her personal dating style these days. most people express amazement at what they perceive as fearlessness. some are just curious about how to fine-tune gaydar. others are looking for tips.

there's no secret.
mp has taken a hockey-style approach to dating:
throw a lot of shots at the goal, and eventually something will go in.

mp, for all her self-effacing humor, is decent looking, intelligent, funnier than a sharp stick, comes with great eyes and a goofy smile, and has a job that chicks totally dig. (if you don't know all of this already, don't worry-- she'll tell you.) when she sees something she likes, she busts out with amazing pick-up lines such as, "hey. i like you. wanna go out?"

it's the most outrageous approach to dating ever-- but my person just barely pulls it off.

Old School Love

my person's love for the ducks has endured seasons when they couldn't buy a goal.

here's her 24" 'wild wing' from the early days.



























wild wing flying a 'fowl towel' from the '97 playoffs.


























yup. my person's a total dork.
it's part of her charm.

Ducks Won! Ducks Won!

teemu finally got his cup!

Seriously

FLIGHTY: why is your blog only about dating, sex, hockey, and music?

MP: what the fuck else is there?