humor

I’m not an oven mitt—just a douchebag

My Fellow Inebriates,

How embarrassed I was when the Executive Assistant from Best Brands, the company that manufactures the Cuisinart Puppet Mitt with Silicone Grip, contacted me to offer a “care package.” You see, I’d dropped a number of F-bombs in the original complaint letter—mainly because I was in a frantic state of sobriety when I wrote it, beset by a paranoid fixation on the idea that my mother might (having rejected the Puppet Mitt) reach for me as an oven mitt. I don’t know if any of you have ever had a fear like this, MFI, but mine was so extreme that it spawned a letter so nasty that I certainly didn’t expect a response—much less one from Head Office, exuding professionalism at every syllable. Yes indeed, I felt very embarrassed when it popped up in my Gmail.

Cuisinart reply from LG to LB

I did my best to apologize for my letter and pin as much of it on my parents as I could. After all, I need their human dexterity to type (and open bottles, etc.).

Cuisinart reply from LB to LG

And the next day Ms Goldberg sent me a tracking number for the coming swag. I feel like such a douche.

BOOMSMA YONGE GENEVER—Here’s to you, Miss P, poor kid

My Fellow Inebriates,

Miss P accidentally left her spelling words at school today. With a ten-word test looming tomorrow, we had no choice but to try to imagine what ten words might be on the list. Our only clue:

The words relate to the province of Ontario.

“How many do you remember, P?”

“Um, none.”

“You don’t remember any words on the list?”

“Zero.”

Wow. This from a kid who remembers the name of every damn pony in that kingdom of ponies she and V are collecting. OMG, what the hell are those things called? I can’t remember.

my filly

Fortunately, as we tried to guess P’s spelling words, she was able to confirm when we hit one. By bedtime we’d scored seven:

  • Ontario

  • Niagara Falls

  • Toronto

  • Great Lakes

  • Ottawa

  • curling

  • hockey

She didn’t want to do it, but Dad made her copy each one out multiple times. In the morning she’ll at least have seven under her belt, and she can try to cram the other three into her brain when she gets to school.

Except Dad had spelled “Niagara” like “Viagra.” Which meant P had copied “Niagra” ten times on her practice sheet, effectively cramming her head with a misspelling.

bOOMSMA

By that point she didn’t care. She’d already had too much drama. Forgetting your spelling list at school is apparently a big deal, and she’d cried actual tears. Four hours earlier she’d been stung by a bee. She was stressed about the odor her orthodontic Schwartz appliance container has taken on (it’s bad). And Mum had suggested she eat vegetables.

If I could have offered P a gin-and-tonic I would have. But I couldn’t, so I had one myself. Made with BOOMSMA, now down to the dregs following our recent Shoot-Out, it was pretty good. Not BROKER’S good or even GORDON’S good, but pretty good. BOOMSMA is a creeper. It’s light and slightly sweeter than typical London Dry gin, which tempts you to add more to your tonic, which I couldn’t because everyone had emptied the bottle. When it was gone, I felt a little like P. Worn out.

Come on, bing

My Fellow Inebriates,

Google disappointed me last week, so Indra suggested I try bing.

bing free liquor

Come on, bing. What have you got for me?

bing free liquor 2

Nope.

no-alcohol