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[about the author]

i actually like speaking in front of large crowds. freakish, eh?

i work crossword puzzles in ink.

i am the american nigella lawson. or maybe the american eddie izzard. can't decide, really.

i would be a really good mom, but i'm cool with being a really good aunt.

i am sometimes more perceptive than i would like to be.

i am fiercely loyal. sometimes, stupidly so.

i never play dumb. never.

i am way too hard on myself.

i am a change agent.

i sometimes cross that fine line between assertive and aggressive.

i am not afraid to tell people that i love them.

i am militantly pro-choice.

i am pro-adoption.

i know a little bit about alot of things.

i typically enjoy the company of men more than women.

i am capable of being really mean and nasty, but i fight it. hard.

i am a lifelong cubs fan. do not laugh.

i have been known to hold a grudge.

i have hips.

i am not my sister.

i am lousy at forgiving myself.

i am an indoor kind of gal.

i am a bargain shopper. to the point of obsession.

i am 32 flavors. and then some.

 
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[all content copyright 2007 by tequila mockingbird. seriously.]


 
10.09.2002  

just a suggestion
this morning, as i boarded my red line train to glenmont, via downtown washington, i settled in for a nice morning commute. but, a few stops later, my bliss was rudely interrupted by the man who sat down next to me. this man had, truly, the most foul breath on the planet. bar none.

there really are not words big enough to describe the smell coming out of this man’s mouth.

plus, he was a total mouth-breather, so i was doubly screwed.

now, i’m no metro virgin. i’ve seen some things on public transportation in my day. i’ve seen a man give himself a manicure – cleaning about two pounds of funk out from under his nails and flicking it on the floor…followed by the nail clipping. hell, in new york i’ve even seen people relieving themselves – and pleasuring themselves on the subway. thankfully the bright orange circa 1974 rec room carpet we have on the metro seems to dissuade most people from those activities. so, here’s a line i never thought i’d type: thank the sweet lord above for bright orange circa 1974 rec room carpet.

for some reason, people seem to think that when you get on public transportation, you've entered your own private world where you can do things too disgusting to do in the privacy of your own home and you're magically invisible. well, snap out of it, people.

and, even if he was invisible, i'd be able to spot this guy because of the aura of funk surrounding him. kind of like when you spray the invisible man with a fire extinguisher and you can see his outline. actually, it would be just like that, except this guy would be outlined by glowing green cloud of funk. really, this man’s breath was un.believe.able.

how does this happen? i can understand if you can’t always be spot-on. like, if you don’t have time to wash the hair, up it goes in some sort of clip, or out comes a hat, or you put baby powder on your head (it’s true)…something. and, believe me, i’ve done the spray-it-with-downy-wrinkle-release-and-throw-it-in-the-dryer-while-i-make-this-pop-tart-and-it-will-look-just-like-you-ironed-it thing. actually, i’ve done that one a lot. this morning, even. but, is it possible to forget to brush your teeth after a night of, apparently, poo munching?

and, let me be clear: i am not some uptight american who isn’t willing to accept some cultural differences with regard to hygeine. i hope that doesn't sound shitty, but i'm just trying to say that i know certain things are more acceptable in other parts of the world. don't fire up the hate mail. what i'm saying is that this was no cultural difference. unless there is some country where it’s culturally acceptable for your mouth to smell like rank ass sweat.

(note to self: if it turns out there is such a country, do not – repeat, do not – plan to visit.)

i’m just saying that, if you open your mouth and a bright green mushroom cloud of funk comes billowing out, brush your damn teeth.

that is all.
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