2000-10-19 - 6:02pm

On the internal soundtrack: Spinal Tap's "Big Bottom".

I'll refrain from political commentary today. However, if you want to hear another libertarian's response to Gore's "richest one percent" crap, click here. It's easy reading.

Actually, most of their daily commentaries are interesting and fairly easy to read. Nothing more annoying than good ideas bogged down in hoity-toity prose.

So, I'll tell you how Poindexter and I have fun together. (No, not that kind of fun; I'm not telling you about THAT.)

The following may contain TMI for some people. You have been warned.

First, some background.

1. Poindexter is an ass man. He says he married me because I had a perfect butt. I believe him, because he tells me all the time and he is physically incapable of walking past it without grabbing or smacking it. He squeezes it a lot. It's his favorite part of me. After my brain, of course. You knew that.

2. As I've said before, in the last 1.5 years I've made an effort to gain some weight and keep it on. I seem to be doing okay. My BMI has gone up a full point. Although I should say that I think the whole BMI thing is full of crap because it doesn't take frame size into account.

3. Problem is, none of my jeans fit anymore. My perfect, wonderful, comfortable jeans are now too tight. Including my cutoffs. It's better that I have the extra weight, but I'm cranky because finding perfect jeans is difficult. They are always too tight in the butt, too loose in the waist, and too long in the leg, and don't even get me started on that boot cut crap. On my small frame they look like mid-70s bell bottoms.

So last night I'm griping to Poindexter about how my jeans don't fit, and he says,

"That's because your ass is so big and fat."

Now, I understood that he was kidding, and even if he wasn't, I'd just give him a baleful stare. I'm happy with my ass. Either way, I took no offense, but I decided to pretend that I did.

So I shrieked that if my ass was so big and fat, he could just quit looking at it and touching it. Off limits for you! You've lost access because you didn't show proper respect for it! No more satisfaction for your butt jones!

This led to a chase into the bedroom and a wrestle on the bed with Poindexter trying to get at the forbidden fruit. Despite my best efforts, he always ends up winning. I did managed to kneel on him and bounce a bit. I think he lets me do this, because he's a lot stronger than me, but occasionally I can use my wiles to make him lose his balance or whatever. I managed to get him to fall off the bed, which I considered a small victory.

Things calmed down for a while, until Poindexter came in and said, "You make the rockin' world go 'round" and set me off shrieking again. It's a line from Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls". At some point he also sang "The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin'" from Spinal Tap's "Big Bottom".

Then later as I was washing my face (eyes closed; my fateful mistake), Poindexter grabbed it while I was defenseless. I shrieked a lot, and later threw the washcloth at him, but missed.

Throughout he kept trying to get near and I kept trying to fend him off. I have no other way of doing it than to threaten him with snot rockets and by kicking. I don't actually want to hurt the family jewels, so I do this weird kind of straight-legged kick, right-left-right-left that makes him laugh hysterically because it looks like goose-stepping.

Finally, I put on some leggings and stuffed a bath towel in there so my butt was stuffed and Poindexter couldn't get at it. I looked like Donald Duck. But it allowed me to brush my teeth in peace. At least until he started pulling the towel out.

I'm sure you had to be there. But this kind of thing has both of us laughing the entire time. It's just ridiculous fun. I know there are married couples out there who don't "play" together like this and frankly I think that must be a tad boring.

I saw the garbagemen again today. Hustle, hustle, hustle. One of them was wearing khaki shorts with a very loose waistband, and he had to keep hiking them. Run to garbage can, hike, pick it up, move to truck, hike, run back, hike, put it down, run to the other, hike. It was slowing him down! Somebody give that man a belt!

I went to the liberry again and got Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and The Road to Serfdom by F.A. Hayek. I do like my visions of dystopia, especially when they're caused by socialism or Big Government. Has anyone ever read a book showing a vision of individualism leading us to ruin? Or any other good dystopia novels, including science fiction? If so, please refer it to me.

You know how moms cut food for their children in little, tiny pieces?

I haven't outgrown that. It's awful. I cut my food into tiny bites (even spaghetti). I cut my apples in quarters, then julienne them. And now I'm thinking of cutting my pear into half-inch cubes.

I'm so weird. Well, I have a little mouth. I don't like fruit juices and sauces dripping on my chin. So there.

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