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Posts Tagged ‘Nudity’

Dear Kara,

Thanks for inviting me to Drag Queen Meat Bingo yesterday. It was one of many commitments I had for the day, but it was BY FAR the most fun.

I will be honest: I thought the “meat” part of the event was going to be the eye candy that one typically finds at drag events. Like Ru Paul’s Pit Crew.

But no, it was meat as in bacon, ribs, three chickens in a sack, etc.

Though it was slow to get going, the roof deck at Sasha’s Wine Bar was lovely. We were supposed to be able to see contestants in the Great Forest Park Balloon Race.

We saw two.

You don’t see one? Let me help.
Yes, it was underwhelming.

Bingo seemed to really pick up after Dieta Pepsi saw her old boss from the mortgage company where she used to work.

Odd for him, great for us.

Then you won a prize drawing.

The prizes? Hostess cupcakes and a Fireball shot.

As we were both committed to being sober, you had to get a designated chugger.

Look at this absolute legend.

The very next round was your round. Criss-cross applesauce = five pounds of pork steak.

Thank you for donating it to the cause: The family gathering at my house coming up in three weeks.

This platter of piggy barely fit in my freezer!

Add this run of yours to us winning Pajama Pawty trivia last week, and I’d say we are lucky together.

So thanks for inviting me. Looking forward to next time!

Love,
Your sister

*So does Arby’s.

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Dear Kate,

Thanks for telling me about the World Naked Bike Ride.

I would never have known about it. That’s what neighbors are for, I guess.

I had no idea that hundreds of naked people would be riding along the street that is perpendicular to mine: tits and bits mere steps from my front door.

Naturally, we pulled out the chairs to watch the procession.

I had a moment of concern as I had Gideon, 16, with me. But I’m not prudish, and he has access to PLENTY through his phone.

Here they come!

I needn’t have been worried at all. It was not, IN ANY WAY, a sexualized, deviant event.

In fact, the ride might have put all of us off sex for a very long time. 😉😂

There they go.

Good for all the riders for promoting body positivity and the reduction of our carbon footprint.

And thanks, neighbor, for making sure I know about crucial local events. This one was (as you well know) right up my alley.

See you Tuesday for game night!
Beth

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Dear Leo,

I’m so glad you came into my life. You bring me so much joy.

Your personality is distinct. You are nosy, noisy and aggressively cuddly.

Who are you? Gladys Kravitz?

And weird. You are SO weird.

To look at, for one.

Look at this alien foot!
Your back = brain surface
Where are your whiskers?!

But also, the way you sleep is unlike any other cat I’ve ever known.

Who sleeps like that?
Cats don’t sleep on their backs!

And you always have to have your paws on my face.

Or be ON me somehow.

You look annoyed even when you are sleeping peacefully.

Here you look annoyed, but you have a right to be: I’m harassing you with a gift from Charlotte and Nate.

I love it when your tongue gets stuck.

I know you hate this collar, but it’s better than the cone of shame. I can’t have you licking your surgically enhanced paw.*

Despite the fact that you are a bizarre creature (or probably BECAUSE of it), I’m so happy to share my life with you.

Love,
Your human

*Leo came to me declawed. The person who did it needs a refresher course as he/she left part of his dewclaw. It got infected. He’s had surgery and is fine now.

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Dear Dominic,

Thanks for going on a road trip with me to bring Eddie some stuff that ended up with me in St. Louis.

It was a great bonding experience for you and your new brother.

It took nearly 16 hours of driving (should have been 12), but we made it manageable with stops in Chattanooga (no time for towing, sadly) and Atlanta (so you could harass all your school friends).

Barb the Minivan (rental) served us well. She was spacious enough to allow for a litter box for Leo’s bathroom breaks.

It turns out that he’s good on car trips.

Just so everyone knows, I don’t usually put clothes on pets. But Leo is naked, and it was cold when we left St. Louis.

So thank you for making the trip with Leo and me. Next time, I promise we will stop in at a ridiculous museum that will amuse us both.

Love,
Mama

*Thanks, Willie.

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Dear Gladys,

I enjoyed meeting you for five minutes outside the Greenville, S.C., airport as I adopted your cat son Leo. Thank you for posting him on a rescue site and choosing me as his new parent.

He’s not happy. At all.

You may have saved my sanity. Seriously.

As I mentioned, I’ve been living alone for a few months — visiting family when I can.

Those after-dinner hours (7-9 p.m.) are really quiet/lonely. I can only watch just so much “Ozark” and “Great British Baking Show.” And my house is VERY clean.

Isolation has breathed life into my workaholic side, for sure. Plus, I took on a freelance project and am taking courses online toward various credentials.

Still.

I found myself talking to — and responding to — myself. Out loud. Uh oh.

And I missed taking care of critters (i.e., Dominic and Gideon).

I haven’t had a pet in 11 years. It’s been 16 since I’ve had a cat. That’s weird in itself, as I had a cat or cats my whole life. At one point, Eddie and I had four dogs and four cats.

We had a temporary cat at the time of this Christmas card photo, and Maggie the Boxer hadn’t joined us yet. The photo gives you an idea of the craziness, though.

I’ve been wanting a Sphynx for more than five years — haunting rescue sites because I wasn’t about to spend more than $2K on a damn cat.

Luckily, you started to travel more and felt guilty about boarding him all the time.

So now he’s mine. Traumatized, but mine.

Things are going great.

He is aggressively cuddly. He gets right in my face. Breathing in my mouth to steal my soul.

And has to be ON ME at all times.

I mean. LOOK AT HIM.

Look at this FOOT!

I don’t know how you were able to give him up, but I’m so glad you did.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Beth, Leo’s new mom

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Dear State of Missouri Government:

LAWD have mercy. Y’all make being street legal SO DIFFICULT. Worse BY FAR than Georgia, and I didn’t think that was possible.

My suggestion for a new Missouri slogan: More backwards than Georgia.

Let’s recap:

I bought a car. In Ohio. The finance company owns the title. (So I thought, because that’s what the dealership said.)

Your tag office wanted me to have the finance company fill out a special form, have it notarized and sent back to me so I could take it to you.

Your tag office also wanted me to get a property tax waiver.

Your tag office sent me here:

It came pre-highlighted!

But they needed the form from the finance company too.

I spent two weeks trying to get a human being at the finance company to help me. No luck.

Then one day I come home from work, and there’s a FEDEX envelope on my welcome mat.

It’s from the dealership. It’s my official car title. Sitting RIGHT THERE in front of my door for the world to take.

Good LORD!

So I make an appointment and go back to the highlighted office.

Nope.

That’s the COUNTY office. I need St. Louis CITY. Downtown.

The County office gave me a helpful slip with the info.

Fine.

I take all my paperwork and go to City Hall.

It’s not Room 110.

It’s Room 115.

Room 115. Let’s take a closer look at that sign.
I can assure you that there are no cards anywhere. There also isn’t a suggestion box.

Once I got the waiver, I went to Room 111 to get the actual tag.

My view while waiting for service.

Then I waited again to get my Missouri driver’s license. Y’all charged me $28 for the privilege. And took two hours of my life.

Good news: It’s over. Lamar and I are legal.

(Lamar is my “new” whip. 😉 He and I are getting along just fine. But I did cry when the junkyard came to get my old girl.)

But I now see exactly why so many people here drive around with temporary tags.

Please add that suggestion box. I’ve got thoughts.

Your exasperated new neighbor,
Beth

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Dear Friends and Family,

As many of you know, I’ve been taking what I’ve termed “murder-prevention trips” during the pandemic. As I’ve mentioned, I’m an extrovert who likes to travel. The pandemic was hard for me for those reasons, as well as the fact that my children and I were all up on each other trying to work/study.

(First-world problems, I know. We did not have nearly the issues that many, many other people had. But this was my reality, and I’m acknowledging its difficulty.)

I’m not an indoor cat.

Look at what Dominic got me (on his own!) to commemorate my latest trip:

When he is good, he is very good indeed. (And when he is bad, he is horrid.)

Where did I go? England. Boris said I could.

Plus, my favorite band was playing their first gig in a billion years (i.e., 18 months).

I am such a huge Anglophile — constantly amused and/or impressed by the things I find. This jaunt was no exception.

An all-in-one station. You don’t even need to move your hands. Genius!
If it’s needless, why is it there?
Ew! No. That’s an assault on humanity.
I asked the waiter what this was on the saucer. He said, “Flake.” I said, “A flake of what?” It’s chocolate. We Americans don’t have that.
Brilliant!
I love that it’s a “Demand” button instead of the more polite “Call.”
I’ve never seen a toilet shaped like this.
Well, OF COURSE there will be nudity. It’s the UK and “naked” is in the title.

I’ve promised Gideon a birthday trip there in May, COVID willing. Maybe he’ll be as delighted as I am with the cultural differences.

Have a great week!
Beth

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Dear Skin,

I need you to calm the F down right now. I’m not sure why you feel the need to clamor for my attention, but perioral dermatitis is not a good look for me.

I guess I should be happy I can hide it behind a mask right now.

But I’ve been dealing with you on and off for three years.

These are all the options I’ve had over the past three years to fix you.

The latest dermatologist said that this flare up was NOT due to my nickel allergy, but to the ointment the prior dermatologist told me to use.

She was horrified when I told her I was using it twice a day every time the rash popped up again. As instructed.

Fantastic.

I’m on a new antibiotic and have a new cream to get you to settle. But she said you would get much worse before you got better.

She was right.

I can’t even wear makeup right now. #nofilter Clearly.

Dear GOD.

So please start behaving.

Kthxbyeee, Beth

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Dear Rod,

Thank you for your life’s work: raising awareness of colon cancer. Because of you, I listened when my doctor said it was time for a colonoscopy.

No one ever has good things to say about them. Certainly not Eddie, who complained his way through the fluid you have to drink before the procedure.

But it had to be done.

Add flavor packet. Fill with water. Drink all of it. Stay close to the bathroom.

But you know me: I like to enjoy myself.

I’m bougie.

It did not taste bad at all. It was like a weak lemon-lime Gatorade.

Anyway, it had the required result.

I went to see the doctor clean as a whistle. The nurse got me ready, said one thing to me, I felt tingly, then woke up back where I started.

Easy peasy.

I’m completely healthy and won’t have to go through the procedure for 10 more years.

But thanks to you, I know I’m good.

Miss you,
Beth

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Dear Jeff Foxworthy:

Congrats on your new show. It sounds like a lowbrow “Antiques Roadshow.”

Dare I say it’s the redneck version.

That tracks. You made your money by calling out the kind.

I have a terminal degree in my field, work in higher education and wear suits/dresses to work (even in the age of COVID-19).

You’d trust me to teach and mentor your college-aged children, right?

But under the collar of my professional lady clothes, my neck is red.

Proof:

  • I’m barefoot even as I write this. When we lived on a lake in Savannah, I could go days without wearing shoes. I never let myself get Jiffy Feet, though. That’s gross.
  • I sincerely miss the annual Dublin Redneck Games.
  • I like taxidermy. Specifically bad taxidermy. Preferably things I stuff myself.
  • I used to drive a crappy Ford pickup truck. Stick shift. So old the shine was gone from the paint. I recarpeted it myself. Sometimes when Eddie drove it, I’d roll down the window and stick those bare feet out of it.
  • Give me a beer over a cocktail any day.
  • I don’t have anything against boxed wine.
  • My favorite summer outfit features a concert T-shirt and cutoff jeans. (Not Daisy Dukes, though. I have kids.)
  • My idea of fun is tubing down a river.
  • I carry hot sauce in my bag.
  • There’s local moonshine on the liquor shelf.
  • I own overalls.
  • I used to have chickens, all named like pets. (Trish still appears as the header on this blog.)

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