2003-10-31 @ 6:45 p.m.
|So I went to the zoo today. Was kind of hoping the animals would be dressed up for Halloween. Like the chimpanzee would be George Bush and the jackal would be Donald Rumsfeld.
But disappointment was mine once again.
I like the zoo though. I have my favorites. The fruit bats for one. They have like 30 bats in this 12X12 dark lit closet. They're all flying around bashing into one another. Kinda like Courtney Love's bedroom after the liquor store guy drops off a shipment.
I also like the lemurs. Their enclosure today looked like San Francisco during the Summer of Love. Eight lemurs all piled on top of each other, tails entwined, arms around each other, snoozing. It was really sweet. I was kind of wishing I could jump in and join them, but I figured the authorities would be called.
And then there was the poor meerkat nearby. The Bob Newhart of the animal world. This poor little guy was all by himself in a cage. But he had a little stuffed tiger. It was nearly as big as him and he had his arms wrapped around it sleeping. Honest to God. It was so freakin' cute I almost went into a sugar coma.
Of course over at the tiger compound they had their Roy Horn squeeze toy.
...Yeah, I know, I'm going straight to hell.
And speaking of going to hell, I heard that a Bishop apologized today for some priests who sexually abused some minors. On Halloween. Doesn't that seem a little ironic? Especially when he kneeled down and asked for forgiveness. Isn't kneeling down what got you guys in trouble in the first place, padre?
Boy, I'm really going to hell now. But hey, I'm just reporting what I read in the newspaper.
I remember when I was in kindergarten, we were on stage once and we were all being asked what we wanted to be when we grew up. It was a Catholic kindergarten and everyone was saying, "nun...priest...nun...priest".
Well, I was extremely introverted as a child, especially in front of a crowd. So when the priest got to me, I stood there totally petrified. I looked at him. I looked at the audience. I looked at him. He asked me again. I swallowed really hard and finally said "A priest, Father."
The audience burst out laughing and then applauded. He smiled too, and said, "Well that's good honey, we need more priests."
I really wish I could go out trick or treating. Or at least be walking the streets of San Francisco checking out drag queens. The East Coast is so sedate. They just don't know how to "do" Halloween. I saw a few costumes today. A little kid dressed as a kangaroo at the zoo. A guy with a soccer ball as his head. I also saw Quasimodo dragging his leg along the main street. Or maybe it was a homeless guy.
I went to the bank today. There was a sign on the door. "Dear customer: Please take your mask off before you enter the bank." Well, that was mighty odd. What if you were just naturally ugly and still waiting to get on "Extreme Makeovers". It would really be embarrassing to have the teller to look up and say, "Excuse me miss, you'll have to remove that" and you'll have to show her your license.
My mom and I were also talking about this nutty old woman who calls into the local radio station she listens too. This woman IS Halloween. She shows up at local events dressed in knee length Lady Godiva wigs, wearing polka dotted dresses with streamers and flags hanging off them. And she always carries a huge purse. So she can steal stuff. Anything she can fit into her purse. And she hates my mom. She hisses "bitch" everytime she walks by.
But last year at Halloween, she showed up at the piano bar we go to, dressed as a cat. Well, it was sort of a cat. Well, maybe a cat from a David Lynch movie.
First of all, let me explain what she looks like. Four foot, 9 inches. Bad perm. She's only about 60, but looks about 75. Sometimes she wears her teeth. Sometimes she doesn't. Sometimes she just throws them in her purse if she's in a hurry.
So she walks into the piano bar, which is at this yuppie country club on a golf course. She dressed in all black. Black tights, black turtle neck, and a black BRA on the OUTSIDE of her turtle neck. When somebody asked her why it was on the outside, she said she wanted to make sure everyone knew she was a girl cat
And then she had a piece of black cloth GLUED over her face. I mean, you could see her eyes, but it was glued over her nose and mouth. Yeah Glued. As in, to the skin. I was not there that night, but I guess everyone just looked at her in amazement.
The only problem was, that she had come for dinner. And she had black cloth glued OVER HER FREAKIN' MOUTH. So they had to send a waitress to go look for a pair of scissors to cut a hole in the material so she could FREAKIN' EAT.
So yeah, it was truly a dream table to wait on. A kleptomaniac she-cat. And I doubt if Freakish O'Kitty left a tip. She never does. She usually just steals the pepper shaker.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty