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2005-04-24 @ 12:09 a.m.
car condoms, its all the rage....

I was very happy my car started this morning. It did rain after all, and recently that seems to have been some kind of new deterrent to my car starting. Rain touching my car. How did I notice this? Because three weeks ago, after a heavy storm my car wouldn't start. And then when the sun came out it started. What a freakin' diva. I don't have a garage, so I really don't have much of a choice about rain drops touching my car. I think it has something to do with moisture getting on the battery. I thought of putting a large plastic garbage bag on the car hood, but then how stupid and impractical would that be. And I could just see my nosy landlord looking out and asking her grumpy ass husband, "I wonder why witty has a garbage bag tucked under the hood of her car? If she really wants to get rid of that piece of crap car why doesn't she just leave the keys in it?"

I've actually thought of that. I was discussing that with the cab driver who took me to my art class a few weeks ago. I said I could drive my car down to the ghetto and throw my car keys up in the air in the middle of a bunch of desperate crack addicts and probably no one would try to grab them. Instead they would all just look at me and then at my car and start to laugh and then go back to listening to NPR News and smoking crack. Because after all, that's what crack addicts do.

I really need something larger to cover my car. Something more comprehensive. And then I came up with something absolutely brilliant! A Car Condom™! I haven't quite figured out the logistics yet, like how I would actually put it on my car, but how cool is that? A large automotive prophylactive? I would hope that it wouldn't rip, letting any unwanted fluids leak around the hood area.

And if you're like me, you would probably want to color coordinate your Car Condom™ with your vehicle. I have a white car, for instance, so I would probably want a fuchsia or purple colored Car Condom™, so that I could be both fashionable and color coordinated with my outfit. Whether it was ribbed or not, would be entirely up to you. But in the winter when things freeze up and get hard, having something to grab onto, might not be such a bad idea.

And of course, there is size to consider. Something I never knew, until the ever effervescent "A" told me about it one day, was the fact that there is no such thing as a size small condom. They only come in is Size Large and Extra Large. And I suppose in the case of someone like Donald Trump, Size Massively Colossal. Of course, I was never really sure why "A" told me about that, but it was an interesting piece of trivia and most useful in the planning of my future venture.

Of course if guys get to use this creative measuring system, I think girls should too. I think we should abolish the A cup bra size and just rename it "D". So like when Harrison Ford goes shopping at Victoria Secret for little sexy doodads for Calista Flockhart, he would no longer have to shyly grin and ask for an "A" cup for Calista, but instead boldly ask for a "D" cup. That's not to say, everyone got the memo about the new sizes. So lets say the sales clerk who waits on Harrison, quietly goes in the back and calls in a scoop to the National Enquirer that Harrison Ford is buying naughty nighties for a stripper with big casabas. And then a reporter is quickly dispatched to Calista's location to ask her if she knows Harrison is cheating on her with a stripper with big casabas and she starts screaming. And then a paparazzi simultaneously surprises Harrison while he patiently waits for the clerk to reappear with Calista's new "D" cup bra, which will accompany the diamond encrusted nipple clamps he has in his pocket. And then...and then....and then....

See what happens when it rains on my car and my car won't start?

But it did start today...although a little roughly and I was able to get down to work and CO-facilitate my Saturday group with "J". I had seen "J" yesterday when I was out walking. He's the married man I work with. His son had sped off on his bike along the park path and he was nervously looking for him. But he had still stopped to talk to me about his vacation down in D.C.

Today's group was pretty small. Just me, "J", Cat Girl, the Keith Richards look-a-like, the Old Poet and the Vincent Gardenia Guy. Oy...the Vincent Gardenia Guy. I think I might just rename him Rainman. He virtually never stops talking about totally useless information. If you want to know what year Pope John Benedictis Pamplonis XII was elected and what his middle name was, ask Vincent. If you want to know how much it rained on Tuesday, April 12, 1963 in Dirtwink, Texas, ask Vincent. If you want to know how many centimeters the earth is at the 27th parallel, ask Vincent. He would totally kick Ken Jenkin's ass in "Jeopardy". What does he do for a living? He's a janitor.

I could have killed "J" this morning too. We all got there at the same time, but he wanted to stay downstairs with the Poet Guy to have a smoke, so he sent me upstairs with Rainman to stand in the tiny area outside of our reception area. I don't know how to shut off our alarm, you see, so I just had to stand in this 7X7' elevator ramp area, listening to the Human Encyclopedia talk about 1) state laws regarding blah, blah, blah (I wasn't listening), 2) him reading the birthdays of all our employees 3) him reading everything off our entire bulletin board including all the job listings one by one, including closing dates, telling me whether it was supposed to rain on that day or not 4) him telling me about the pulley system in the elevator and how they work and the safety ratio Vs. the number of times the button is pushed 5) the weather for the next 6 days, including the highs and lows, estimated rains totals, with the possibility of snow Sunday into Monday 6) him mumbling about god knows what else including...income taxes, the Pope, the burning of a local apartment building, bus tokens, the square root of tuna fish sandwiches. I don't know. All in the time span of about 5 minutes. I was so happy when I heard the elevator kick on, because at least I knew others were coming and I would soon be saved from Rainman-o-rama.

Group was pretty good. I like to tease "J". Three times though, Rainman said that I was using "evil and cruel humor to make my point". Yup. That's me. Purveyor of evil and cruel humor.

And "J" certainly made his point when he leaned over and touched my leg with his hand and I was kinda like...

I guess because I haven't had anyone touch anything in several weeks. It just really sent a bolt of electricity through me. A touch on the knee. I am so horny ready for some attention from someone nice that even the slightest bit of attention, had me go directly to a Code Orange.

Psst. witty. Psssst. witty...he's married. Yeah. I know. No more married men. Got it. I GOT IT!!!!!!!! Sheesh.

Anyways, after group I went to the movies since it was rainy out. I haven't been to the movies in several months and I still had a movie pass my aunt had given me for Christmas, so I went to see the movie "The Upside of Anger". It was a really good movie for me to see, because of the subject matter: Seemingly unmanageable anger which is ruining my life and destroying the possibility of anyone ever entering into my life and making it better. It was a very wise movie. And even when I left the theatre, I was saying, ya know, getting angry at things is really stupid. I should try to be more tolerable of things and people. I should be nicer to my mother. I should be nicer to drivers in parking lots. I should be more forgiving to the people in my support group. I mean I was even on the verge of walking through the yuppie grocery store and hugging every last one of them, but when I was paying for my groceries at the counter, I was told I had put my groceries on the conveyor belt wrong.

Huh? I put my groceries on the conveyor belt wrong? I was already a little steamed because the woman hadn't greeted me when I had walked up to the counter. I'm rather grumpy about things like that. I like being greeted at counters. I'm funny that way. But this woman didn't even look at me. And then she berated me, because some dork behind me, started putting all his groceries on the conveyor belt and they bunched up, while I was still getting stuff out of my basket. And then she said, "That wouldn't have happened if you had put your groceries on the conveyor belt right..." Huh? It was the guy behind me's fault. But since I'm the person who uses evil and cruel humor I just looked at her and said, "I guess it looks like I flunked Grocery shopping 101 then."

Well, so much for lessons learned from movies. Maybe it'll get a little easier tomorrow.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty