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2006-03-14 @ 9:10 p.m.
flippin' mitten


Recently, I’ve been watching those audaciously ridiculous commercial for that new show, “American Invention” where people, like you and me, although I hope they’re more like me, because you -- I’m not so sure about -- invent things that make life easier for people. And I’m all about making life easier, uh huh! Sounds good to me. Where do we sign up?

Except, of course, I have absolutely no original ideas except for my long ago suggestion for a new reality show where they would strap a video camera to George Bush’s forehead and we would get to see what he says and does all day. Of course there would be the obligatory laugh track and loud humorous special effect sounds like “bbbboiiingggggg....splat” everytime he does something stupid that affects gazillionmillion people on an given day. But thus far, there have been no bites on my idea, plus I think the CIA might possibly be monitoring my phone and internet connection now that I suggested that our president’s actions might be invoking laughter and mayhem on some small cable channel.

But anyhoo, back to the idea for the next Great American Invention. Well, its only been about 2 minutes since I last wrote that I didn’t have any, so why are you all sitting there, waiting for me to come up with some brilliant idea. Huh? Okay. I’m lying. I do have one and I probably shouldn’t share it, because Lord knows, you guys seem extremely unstable and unreliable if you choose to read me every day or too. What’s wrong with you? Don’tcha have a life? You do realize this is all smokes and mirrors. Right? You don’t?

Oh. In that case, yes, I do have a totally fascinating life and I’m very healthy emotionally and I really drive a 2006 Porsche and I’m about to open my own art show down in SOHO in New York City with the art work created at the ymca. And guess what the show is called? Go ahead....Guess!! Its called: “art work created at the ymca”. Is that not brilliant? I insisted that all the promotional material be done in all lower case letters, because, after all, that is like a totally cool way to write a title for an art show that is opening in SOHO...where my 2006 Porsche will be parked out front and Johnny Depp will be trying to fornicate me in the backroom while I’m trying to count all my $1000 bills and drinking Diet Coke.

Oh. Sorry. I may be brilliant, but I do have a short attention span. The Idea. It all came to me this afternoon when I was sitting in my Piece of Shit car (yeah, we’re back to reality) at a large intersection and we were in the middle of a big, blowy, snowy snowstorm and I was waiting for a red light. I was first in line and getting ready to turn the corner when it was clear. But there was a lot of traffic. And I suppose my attention might have been slightly diverted by the radio, since I was jamming with the one and only Aretha Franklin, singing “Respect”...

“R.E.S.P.E.C.T. find out what that means to me.....”

And I started to wonder, like I frequently do. Why hasn’t Motown called? Why am I not putting out CDs? Why am I not getting Grammy nominations and wearing my hair in corn rows like Stevie Wonder. But I digress...

Anyways, there was suddenly a very slight ebb in the traffic and I moved forward like 3 1/2” to see if anyone was coming up over the big huge intersection and there was. So I stopped naturally, since 1) I have crappy car insurance 2) The gas tank on my car leaks and if I ever get hit, it’ll be “Hey Roy Orbison, how’s heaven?” and 3) knowing my luck I would get hit by somebody without car insurance...like I always do and possibly be injured near my face and if I don’t have my looks, what the hell else do I have?

Unfortunately the demonbitchfromhell woman behind me thought if I moved those 3 1/2”, it must surely be okay to turn the corner so why don’t I just BLAST THE FUCK OUT OF MY HORN SO THAT BITCH WILL TURN THE FUCKING CORNER.

heh, heh. Have I mentioned my recent bout with anger management issues? Or my lack there of? Oh dear. dear. dear. dear. Because then I did it. Its something I have never done before...at least in public. I gave her the One Finger Irish Salute. And I accompanied it with wild arm waving, crazy face contortions and my mouth was going a mile a minute, as she eventually had the pleasure of passing me. And then I even did the Finger Thing repeatedly, like I was going “SO there, and THERE..AND theeeeere! It was very liberating, except for one thing. I was wearing mittens.

Have you ever flipped anyone off wearing mittens? Its kinda like aiming a hamster at someone and saying, “I’m gonna kill ya, ya bastard!” Because, well, mittens just aren’t very threatening you see. They don’t get the point across. You can’t see the offending finger and what good is flipping someone off, if they can’t see your middle finger in all its malevolent glory.

My sister once learned that the hard way. Unlike me, the delicate soft spoken one in the family, she had no problem whatsoever yelling and screaming out her car window at people. And flipping them off? No problem-o. Her finger was always itching for the spotlight. But one day, when she was driving the mean streets of Miami, somebody did something she didn’t like. It was a car with three Black men. And lets just say my sister also had no problem screaming racial slurs either. I don’t even know how we’re related, since she screamed the “N” word out the window with the word “stupid” attached to it and our three lovely African American gentlemen heard that and started chasing her in their car.

Now I love my sister, despite the fact that as a child she used to ram my head into our dresser everytime I tattled on her about bringing boys in for sex when our parents weren’t home, but she wasn’t very bright that day. Because instead of driving towards a public place or trying to crash her car into a police car to get attention, she drove straight to her house with three angry Black men in hot pursuit. As soon as she got to her house, she jumped out of her car and ran for the house, they caught her at the front door and asked her what she had yelled out her window. She tried to lie of course, because you don’t want to say the “N” word to 3 angry Black Men who are surrounding you at your front door. So at least she was smart about that. I think she finally told them she had a loaded gun in her purse (she didn’t) and they ran off, but honestly. Talk about road rage gone bad.

So what is my invention? The Flippin’ Mitten....

Its for all us meek souls who might like to express some well earned road rage in traffic, but are not sure who’s in the car behind you. I mean it could be the President of a competing Rap Record Label. Or your ex-boyfriend who just saw your wedding announcement in the newspaper. Or it could just be Dick Cheney on his way to his Anger Management Class. What to do, what to do?

Hey, I know....get out your Flippin’ Mitten, which not only comes in stylish colors and designs...



...but you can also use it to flip off all the freakin’ idiots who inhabit the roadways of America. The beauty of the product? Well, when somebody sees you flipping them off and comes barreling towards you in a fit of rage, you just turn up your car CD player and gently explain that you were listening to your Anya tape and suddenly felt the urge to swoon over her dulcet tones and THAT was what they must have seen. Because what else could it have been? You can’t flip people off with mittens. That’s ridiculous!

Naturally, if you want to sell the product, you have to have some kind of spokesperson for commercials. Someone who knows the value of mittens. Someone who might possibly have anger issues. Someone who might even provoke a certain amount of anger from the viewing audience, prompting them to dig into their wallets (sans mittens) to get their VISA cards, just so they can flip off the television everytime this person comes on....you know...

Flippin’ Mittens -- The Home Edition.


Fortunately the list of potential spokespeople was short. My first choice -- Jessica Simpson.



Who doesn’t want to flip off Jessica Simpson and couldn’t you just see the commercials: “Hi, I’m Jessica Simpson for Flip-off Miffins. hee, hee. I mean, Flippy Miffers. Flipper Muffins. Dang, is the camera on yet? Can you see my boobs?“ Jesus, I’m already practicing my flip her off.

And then there’s Michael Jackson, the original Hand Guy...



He was actually a charter member of the Flippin’ Mitten Club, except his were originally kinda sparkley and silver, water-proof (not sure why. Hmmm?) and I’m not really sure if he ever really GOT the concept of the mitten. At least its true use.

But I think the guy who would make the best spokesperson for the Flippin’ Mitten would be country western crooner, Glen Campbell.



He just has that rough hewn, “I’ve used the Flippin’ Mitten over 30,000 times, so fuck off” kind of look to him. He’s like totally perfect. And believable. And why wouldn’t you believe that Glen Campbell could be driving around Galvaston or Los Angeles or wherever he lives with a pair of Flippin’ Mittens on the dashboard of his vintage Pickup truck. I could just see him saluting the Men in Blue, fellow drivers and even an occasional stray music fan who might recognize him at a redlight and roll down the window and ask him for an autograph. And all he has to do is stare at them non-commitally, slowly raise his Flippin’ Mittened hand, as if to scratch his head, but really be thinking "Fuck off NASCAR breath".

I just hope I can figure out how to sell them to people who live in warmer climates. :-)


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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty

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