Dog-napping mayor gets slap on the wrist,

or, The Shih Tzu Hits the Fan, Part 3.

Well, the Puppygate saga seems to be at an end, now that the former mayor of Alice has pled no contest to a Class B misdemeanor of filing a false police report. She's not getting any jailtime, just deferred adjudication.

This comment on the Caller Times site is almost Joycean in its confusing wordplay: "Let the axe mayor keep panchitos fleas to remember him by. She has done enough to in bare 's' Alice."

Overheard in Corpus

1. 

Girl #1 in mall: I really want to go to Express. 

Girl #2: If you don't mind, I'll wait here. My arch-nemesis works there. 

2. At buffalo wild wings (why was I there? Watching the Eurocup final), a long, long tirade about how the third season premiere of Quantum Leap was one of the best season premieres of any show ever. I didn't know it before, but I know now that this is apparently the episode on which the quantum leaper jumps back to his own past and has the chance to save his brother (or something?) in Vietnam. Who knew that anyone, anyone knew so much about Quantum Leap. 

3. Tonight at the grocery store, the greeter came up to me to say, "Wow, you look just like--"

Now, at this point I was fully expecting him to say that I look like one of the local newscasters. Three people in the last two weeks have told me this. Seriously. Unclear if they mean her, her, or her. They're all blond, which seems to be all it takes. ¹  As long as it's not her, I guess it's ok with me.²  Anyway, he did not conclude with any reference to local news. No, the end of his sentence was--wait for it--Aphrodite. Yes, a man in the grocery store told me I look like a goddess. I'm starting to like this place.

¹I know this because the security officers at the courthouse still confuse me and Anne ("the other blond one"). For the record, I'm fairly sure that to her, I'm "the other blond one." I'm not trying to suggest any secondary status for her.

²Now that I look at her, she's not unattractive. She just looks older than me, and I'm getting touchy about that, especially after Sunday when the pedi-cabbers who were all flirty became very un-flirty upon finding out that I'm 29.

Woo. Hoo.

Brief update to state that I won my bracket in the final Rock, Paper, Scissors qualifying round last night, so I'll be competing in the finals. 

In prior rounds, at least a few people attempted decent names: The Handyman, The Handgun, etc. Last night however, perhaps due to the later hour and increased drunkenness, it was just sad. In order to achieve victory, I beat people playing as Ballz and Chimpy. 

Oh Corpus, you disappoint me so regularly. The winner of the first bracket, incidentally, against whom Anne and I will both compete Tuesday, was Titties. She had many male admirers. 

Really, I had only the posse with whom I came rooting for me. And the amazing hostess, Heidi, who is a big fan of mine now that I've volunteered to help her plan a pub night in downtown. Yes, that's right people, I am actually on a Dtown committee. But that's a tale for another day.

Something else gross (in a different way)

I've been competing in the local Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament. There are 3 qualifying rounds for the Finals at the end of June. In the first qualifying round, I was eliminated in the semi-finals by Anne. (Especially given that her RPS game was Lady MacDeath. Hot.) Fine. There's nothing undignified about that particularly. Last week, however, I was defeated in the first bout by a dude playing as Edward Sassorpanties.

Edward Sassorpanties. 

Panties. I know I'm not alone in my dislike of that word. 

Sassor. Sassor? Um... sassor. "Sassor" is not a word. It does not even sound like a word. At all really. 

Again, panties. Can I reiterate that this was a man?

Now, I had considered playing as Emily Scissorhands. Because "scissors" and "hands" both relate to Rock, Paper, Scissors. However, Sassorpanties has nothing to do with RPS, because, again, "sassor" isn't even a word and panties weren't involved, because it wasn't Strip Rock, Paper, Scissors. (If you'd seen Edward Sassorpanties, you'd understand how happy I was that no stripping or panties were involved.) So yeah, Sassorpanties removed everything that was great about referencing Edward Scissorhands and kept only Edward. Poor choice, Sassor.

Sigh. Sassor.

You may be wondering about my Roshambo name. The first time I played as The Striking Viking and this time I played as Courtney Glove. So I'm still pondering my best name. I mean, I could reuse one of those, but they haven't panned out that well I guess... Other considerations: Em.C.Hammer, Lindsay No-hands, The Paper Doll. I'm accepting suggestions.

Things that are gross

I bet you were thinking that I'd totally love anything that involved bacon. Or alcohol. Well, two items to prove you wrong:

1. Canned bacon. 50 slices, pre-cooked in a can. This probably doesn't make sense, but it turns my stomach just looking at it. In a way that seeing globs of fat floating in vodka apparently does not.

2. Sourtoe cocktail. Which is, apparently, champagne with a preserved human toe in it. A Canadian tradition? Oh, Canada.

Further adventures in bacon

Wednesday I made bacon fudge. And it's pretty good.

That's all I have to say about that.

Say what?

Old people say weird things. Fine. But my boss has a way of coming up with stuff that totally overwhelms the giggling 6th-grade boy within me. 

"Figured I better get high behind and do it." 

Huh?

And then he always registers my confusion and wants to talk about it, forcing me to (1) try not to speak to him like I think he's a crazy old person; and (2) not giggle while repeatedly saying and hearing phrases like "high behind." 

I correctly used context clues to understand the phrase as "hurry up." And then got his invented etymology on it about how when a jockey rides faster his ass is in the air. (And again making me want to joke about him looking at jockeys' asses...)

Fine. We have exchanges like this all the time.

But this week, he really went too far. Referencing a defendant, he said, "They're gonna jerk his pen/pin." They're gonna what?!? 

No context clues this time, so I have no idea what he's talking about. He registers this fact and offers the following explanation: 

"It's what fraternity brothers do to one another. "

Seriously.

In what way would that conceivably clarify? And can I take a moment to congratulate myself on not DYING laughing at that point?

(The entire meaning of this one remains unclear. Apparently at some point in time when you wanted to kick a frat brother out you took (jerked?) his pin. What connection this has to a medicare fraud defendant... that's anyone's guess.)