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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted October 12, 2005 08:36 AM |
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LoL
Yeah I got that email too. I don't think she realizes I'm still on her email list. I thought to myself, "Hmm art eh? It's all so subjective. Who am I to judge?" Then I thought I'd better stick to the Portland area but silently wishing well wishes. 
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Roses Are Red And So Am I
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 12, 2005 05:12 PM |
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Yes Consis --
I did intend to send you the e-mail. But as I said, for those of you in HC out of city, state and/or country, I didn't expect you to come but just wanted to let you all know what was happening.
Imagine my surprise when The Great Gootch turned up on my doorstep...
<Recalls the moment she fainted dead away>
BTW, if you click on my "Home" icon at the bottom of my post you can get a sampling the the aforementioned "artwork."
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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Conan
Responsible
Supreme Hero
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posted October 12, 2005 05:26 PM |
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I'd like to see this artwork ... but I don't see a link? perhaps you should put it in your PP?
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Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service.... us. - Star Trek TNG
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Russ
Promising
Supreme Hero
blah, blah, blah
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posted October 12, 2005 06:06 PM |
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Conan
Responsible
Supreme Hero
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posted October 12, 2005 06:15 PM |
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I don't know, but there is quite a few of us from Ottawa, 5 hrs away.
(including me!)
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Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service.... us. - Star Trek TNG
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The_Gootch
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Kneel Before Me Sons of HC!!
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posted October 13, 2005 09:46 PM |
bonus applied. |
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You'd think that flying into Denver on Hooters air would have been a fine experience. And it was. Mixing boobies, cheap cocktails, and decent legroom to me is a surefire business plan. But the Hooter's girl was boring(usually they come in pairs and ostensibly feed off of each other's energy), and made it easy for me to think about what it was I was doing.
Peacemaker and I have known each other for a couple of years here. Sure we became friends. But I was on friendly terms with a number of people here. I'd never really seriously considered going out to visit them though.
Romana's tenuous command of the english language would hav efrustrated me to no end. And considering how grating a baby's crying is to me, I can only imagine my misery being compunded from a crying baby sporting a dutch accent.
Come to think of it, most of the euros would have probably chided me on how much of an idiot my president was and how horrible the US as a whole is. My only defense to that of course is, "Friggin' foreigners! Go back to where you came from!"(this might perplex some of you as I'd probably engage them on their home turf but trust me, the thought process is still there).
The UK members are only marginally better. Cat is perpetually 18 in my mind...eye candy and nothing more. Furthermore, she's been AWOL for too long now. Ph? Heh...I'll reserve my thoughts on him for later. Arachnid may have been interesting to meet...but considering how godawful the scottish brogue is, I might as well be talking to Romana. Asmodean probably would have been a hoot. His kind of people are reknowned for throwing a hot and happenin' parties.
As for my American bretheren, most of the ones I could stomache are gone. LichKing and Bort I'm sure I would have gotten along with swimmingly. Khayman too once we got past his crap about the Clintons. Maybe he could tell me what happened with Mocara and how his life is going.
Canadians don't count.
And so all these thoughts were going through my mind when I touched down into Denver. Almost immediately I started feeling loopy from the oxygen deprivation. Since Peacemaker couldn't show me the common courtesy of picking me up at the airport(she gave some flimsy excuse about having to pick up her son from school) I had to take a shuttle into downtown Denver. After a bit of haggling with a shuttle driver, I was off on my way.
This lull gave me even more time to think about the woman behind the stupid water elemental avatar. We'd had a good rapport and if a laymen looked at some of our role-playing, some tension. Personally, I had no designs on someone obviously my senior, happily married, and 1000 miles away. But considering the fact that I'm in the midst of a 16 month dry streak and therefore reduced to dry humping fire hydrants, there was no telling how I'd react in her presence. I don't have to pursue it, but if wagging tail falls into my lap, well, who can blame a guy?
We met finally, having arrived almost simultaneously at the dropoff. To hammer home her point of having had to pick up her son, she brought him along for the fateful first meeting. I was still skeptical. We said our nervous 'hellos', piled into the car, and drove off.
To those of you who are interested, yeah she's hot. She finally took my advice and did away with the late 80s perm she had. She was tall(not taller than me), but tall; about 5'8". What was irritating to me throughout the weekend was her insistence about wearing stretch pants that flattererd her. I mean, women her age are supposed to be wearing what has been affectionately termed 'mom' jeans...the kind that don't fit right and have a horrible taper down the legs. Trying to walk in her midst while looking up at the sky or down at the ground was hazardous to my health, and many times I ran into obstacles that normally could have been avoided.
I had no interest in her past but she insisted on showing me her old stomping grounds. Trust me, this activity is only marginally more interesting than taking a guided tour of some city you'll probably never see again. But I figured to be a sport about it, kept my mouth shut, smiled, nodded, pretended to be interested, and asked the appropriate probing questions. As of this point I was wondering if Sunday was ever going to come.
It never ceases to amaze me the capacity some women have to run their mouths, and Peace was no exception. I wondered how she was able to do it and concluded that it had something to do with living in Denver; that one learns to function without so much air. Consequently, she could yap and not have to pause for something as mundane as breathing.
We did some shopping for some booze. I of course, had to foot the bill for whatever it was I wanted. At this point it occurred to me that all she was going to provide as the host was a roof over my head, if that.
There was a vending machine there that had pistachios. You know those kinds of machines..where you pop in a quarter and get a gumball, slime, M & Ms, or, in this case nuts. Her son had asked for some and watching his mom spoil him, I knew he was going to have problems in the future. One job that a parent has is to deny their children even the smallest of creature comforts. If they don't, they might as well be writing letters of apology to the citizens of their state for the inevitable strain their child is going to put on the penal system.
The first night was one of those awkward get-to-know-yous. In spite of the knowledge that her son's pic was soon going to be plastered all over the local post offices, I found him to be rather charming and likeable.
Peace's husband was an entirely different matter. The man gave me a strained greeting. Obviously a mark had been called on him and this was him putting his best face forward given the circumstances. He seemed affable, if a bit dorky. And he certainly didn't fit the mold of the man who won the heart of this veritable firebrand(or nuthouse depending on your own sentiments). He seemed a real pushover and I salivated at the thought of showing him that a new alpha was in the house.
So that first night after the boy was sent to bed, we all sat down on the back patio to enjoy some smokes and cocktails. I brought a pack of Cuban cigarellos with me as something of a gift for the house. Conversation was casual, nonoffensive, and virtually sterile. No wonder these people drank as much as they did. They needed anything they could get their hands on to kill the boredom.
After her husband went to bed, we spent a bit more time talking, enjoying the evening, and I dunno, bonding. We touched up on what was going on in our lives and what last minute preparations were needed for the next day's festivities.
As I was falling asleep I thought that maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.
To be continued...
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted October 13, 2005 11:15 PM |
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Nicely Written . . .
I thought it was a pleasant brain teaser. I enjoyed it.
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Roses Are RedAnd So Am I
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Jebus
Promising
Supreme Hero
TheJester akaJeebs akaJebfoo
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posted October 13, 2005 11:47 PM |
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funny...
to me it just explained why Gootch has had a 16month dry spell! 
(especially from our Canadian women)
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"You went over my helmet??"
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 14, 2005 10:52 PM |
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... I am trying desperately to keep my trap shut here until he's done but there's just one thing I gotta say...
If running at a bloke, throwing your arms around him and practically knocking him to the grass constitutes "saying our nervous 'hellos'..." well...
But please, please -- do go on with your story. I'm eatin' this up.
(more later)
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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Conan
Responsible
Supreme Hero
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posted October 15, 2005 01:58 AM |
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QP!
QP given to The_Gootch for creativity and skill.
That was a great post and I think you entertained many with that! Good job.
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Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service.... us. - Star Trek TNG
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 15, 2005 05:20 PM |
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It's about time!
(Now give the man about six or seven more and we'll almost be caught up to where we should be...)
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 15, 2005 05:31 PM |
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I just looked "bloke" up in the English (U.K.) Dictionary.
It says that in virtually every respect it's the same as the term "guy," with the single exception that it can't be used to refer to one's friends.
(I've decided to leave the post as is for now...)
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted October 15, 2005 06:56 PM |
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Very Well Indeed . . .
I do agree whole heartedly with the Qp award. The_Gootch wrote a very stimulating piece. He obviously has more talent than most of the people I've read online. (Sorry Pandora)  The_Gootch is a talented writer with a gift for elaborately contrived humor; all the while keeping good with his relationship with his true friends; making sure they know it's only a harmless joke and he cares deeply for them. After reading and re-reading many of his pieces, I've finally come to understand his wit. (at long last Consis gets a clue) My problem was that I judged him far too early. I should've been more understanding and less judgmental. I only hope he could forgive me for my arrogance.
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Roses Are RedAnd So Am I
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 15, 2005 07:08 PM |
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(Interlopes again)
Not to speak in The Gootch's stead, but Consis, you really amaze me, man. You're very frank and honest, and I for one appreciate your willingness to admit error.
I have previously referred to The Gootch as "Doonsbury with testicles." Glad you get what's going on here. I hope others do as well.
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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The_Gootch
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Kneel Before Me Sons of HC!!
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posted October 15, 2005 09:07 PM |
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Any thoughts I had about Peacemaker being a good and decent host were thrown out the window the next morning. There was no call that breakfast was being served. There were no frosty mugs in the freezer waiting to have orange juice poured into them. In fact, aside from her hubby already having left for work, I was the first one up.
It took me 20 minutes to get the coffee grinder to work. It was the cheap 8 o' clock coffee too, somewhere in the ranks of taste between sock water and Sanka. So while I dined--alone I might add-- on instant oatmeal and a horrificly bad espresso, I started considering what was going to happen today.
That I was going to be forced to work was a given. Somehow I got roped into helping with the hors d'euvres. This wasn't what I'd had in mind about coming to visit her. I can prep food back at my house. I wanted something special, unique. And that was when the lightbulb went off.
I laughed to myself about the ease of it. Bagging her inside her own house... I couldn't think of anything more disrespectful than that. It was perfect! A new trophy...a notch on the bedroom post! It was something for the record books. But my window of opportunity had narrowed. Her mom was coming in and going to stay at the house for a few days. And if there's one thing children want to do in front of their parents after they've gotten over their teenage hangups, it's to put on a good front.
After Peace and her boy got up, she decided she wanted to show me the Capitol building and some of downtown Denver. I feigned enthusiasm and waited for them to get finished with their morning routine.
You've seen one Capitol you've seen them all. Denver was no different. I just had to be sure to 'ooh' and 'ah' at all the right times. This included but wasn't limited to the places where she used to work.
After the tour was over we decided on little downtime while waiting for her mom and her mom's friend to get into town. Peace's son had been itching for me to play with him since I'd gotten there. But I had to make sure I was going about it the right way. Even though women melt at the prospect of a man bonding with their children, you can't be too obvious about it. Figuring that I'd paid enough attention to her, I set my plan in motion.
They had a huge trampoline outside in the backyard. The thing even had safety netting to prevent bad accidents. I played with him on this thing, at times launching him above the safety netting. Did he get scared and want to stop like he was supposed to? Not on your life. He laughed, giggled, and wanted more more more. I would like to add though at this point that he was the first one to take a break. You think it's easy to wear out a nine year old? You give it a try. Anyway, my plan was starting to work. Mom was in the background, watching the two of us. One can only imagine what was going on in her head.
Finally company arrived. Peace's mom and her friend presented an interesting dichotomy of personalities. Peace's mom was cold, imposing, and obviously looked as if she'd ruled the family with an iron fist. I wonder if the author of Cinderella had used her as the inspiration for the evil stepmother. She shot me steely looks and almost crushed my hand when she shook it. Not bad for an 80 something year old. She was definitely going to be a problem.
Her friend was the complete opposite. She had not one bone of malice in her body. I'd been warned that she was an empath, so I did my best to disguise my true motives with her. Peace set us to work while she went off to take a nap. I didn't mind. The woman was a basketcase from the stress of preparations and wasn't very good company anyway. Her getting a breather just meant she'd go to bed later that night--much much later.
If you don't think that the state of Colorado does something to people, you're mistaken. I was gabbing with the mom and the friend, getting an earful of bizarro, new age fluff from the friend. And once she told me the earth's poles were going to reverse in 300 years it reminded me of my old friend Pat.
I'm going to take a moment now to demonstrate what I mean. Pat was a drinking buddy of mine from high school. I was friends with his girlfriend and she introduced the two of us to each other. I spent many a night passed out in his basement. Unfortuntately, his girlfriend decided to start cheating on him with his best friend and confiding in me about it. If I'd known him first I would have ratted her out but since it was the other way around it put me in an awkward spot. The guy code didn't cover this sort of dilemma.
I lost contact with Dawn(the girlfriend) after she'd graduated from high school. I never expected to hear from Pat but call me he did. He gave me the sob story of her illicit affair, and their resulting breakup. He also wanted to invite me into his inner circle. That was fine and good. The guys were good company but one drunken evening I opened my yap and fessed up about what I'd known. For some inexplicable reason he called me a 'girlfriend stealing bastard'. I kind of felt cheated as I'd never done anything with Dawn. As for the name itself, I can safely say that it wasn't the last time I was called such a thing.
So anyway, Pat was an ice skater. He skated pairs in the category of ice dancing and was on the verge of going to senior level. Colorado had some teriffic facilities and coaches so he left Chicago for a few years to hone his craft and take a shot at Olympic greatness.
The man who left had a mullet that would have made the boys from Def Lepperd proud. He was a headbanger through and through. We'd listen to his Guns n' Roses and Metallica CDs in the basement while getting boozed up. The cat that came back was not the one who left. He'd grown out his hair and grown a goatee. He quit skating(much to the chagrin of his parents, who'd dropped some three quarters of a million dollars on his skating since age 3), wore tie-dyes, and became a deadbeat.
Think I'm being harsh? It was bad enough that he became a hippy. But he bragged to us about taking welfare checks and buying loads of wonder bread and velveeta cheese. He'd follow the band Phish and sell the grilled cheese sandwiches at concerts for a huge profit and use the proceeds for whatever illicit trash he wanted. He sold food stamps to his buddies...$40 worth of food stamps for $30. And on top of that, he told us that the earth's poles were going to reverse in the year 2012 and that we'd all be dead anyway. Colorado man...I tell you.
So I chatted up the friend and the parental unit. We talked for a bit about the Iraq war and a myriad of topics. Her friend asked me if I would want to stay at her house in the mountains--rent free of course--while she was waiting for it to be sold. At times I'd look at Peace's mom only to find her staring at me threateningly while holding a knife. The message was unmistakeable.
The clock was winding down for this event. We all went through our own preparations. I threw on a pair of blue jeans and a blue sweater. I've been blessed with blue eyes and women just love them. They can't resist them. In fact, I've had to wear glasses the last few years just to give the impression that they're dull. It kinda makes me feel like Cyclops from the X-Men. I just got tired of trying to speak to women, only to find them staring at my eyes the way silly little 12 year olds stare at the posters of their boy bands du jour.
Peace's son was spending the rest of the weekend with his dad and Peace's husband was going to meet us at the show. Peace insisted on taking two cars, which led me to believe she and I were on the same wavelength. The gallery was small and there were works plastered everywhere. It wasn't just Peace's works being hung but several other artists as well.
Though I am loathe to hand out genuine compliments, she is truly an enormous talent. Seriously, the attention to detail she has is reminiscent of the renaissance artists of yore. That her work was displayed in this gallery with other amateurs as opposed to a museum shows either extreme laziness on her part(most likely) or that the citizens of Denver have got no taste(almost just as likely).
I got to meet the rest of her tribe. I met her dad, brother, and sister. I made my yearly quota of in-laws just through her family. It's a good thing I don't have anymore weddings to go to this year. Her husband came a little later--just as I'd predicted the day before--with a lovely bouquet of flowers. I didn't ask Peace if he'd done this previously but my hunch was that I was the inspiration for him willing to shower his love with gifts.
We didn't get to spend much time with each other, Peace and I, during the showing. Instead I flitted around, becoming more and more convinced that artists are absolute loons. I ended up having a decent conversation with Peace's sister-in-law. I was so grateful to meet such a grounded person that everytime a topic was starting to die down I'd jump onto another one. She was one of the few bright points to this wretched trip.
After the show was over some people wanted to go out for drinks and whatnot. Peace's hubby offered to take Peace's mom and friend back home and let us go out for some cocktails. After one last death-dealing glance from Peace's mom, the 3 of them were gone.
Now it shouldn't amaze me that artist types don't go to places like sports bars. That's fine and good. You want to be in a place with like-minded people. Hence, artists hang around artsy-fartsy, beatnik style establishments. Did these people have to choose such an awful place though?
The bar/restaurant was divided into two. On the left side there was a stage for poetry slam's a la Mike Myer's 'So I Married an Axe Murderer'. On the other side was completely nonsmoking restaurant. The chairs were uncomfortable. The bread at the table was organically grown and environmentally friendly. In other words, it sucked. But hey, there were skirts with purple dreadlocks and multiple body piercings.
Because of the whirlwind of events(scathing glares from the mom didn't help either)going on I didn't really get a chance to take a look at Peace's outfit. But now I was able to. She was dressed in a magnificient, full length, black cocktail dress with a matching shawl she'd draped across her hips. It is so refreshing to see women who don't have saggy arms. She wore clear heels and literally glided as she walked.
Peace's friends also ranged from somewhat quirky to outright bizarre. One of them is a rak'ki(think that's how it's spelled) master. In other words she'll give you a massage without even touching you. Allegedly she massages energy. Had I never experienced it first hand and with palpable results, I would have called the men in white coats on her.
The other one was railing about her 19 year old granddaugher. The girl was stubborn(19 and stubborn? Go figure) and ignorant of what dressing like a skank does to men. It was interesting to hear men getting a 'you're hard-wired for visuals' break from a woman. I'd seen the girl at the party. She was gorgeous, but at 19 who isn't? And she was also dressed in a sexy, sophisticated way that belied the hip huggers and halter tops that were in her closet.
The other couple at the table was an interesting mix. Interracial marriages I'd think are still something of a novelty, at least between blacks and whites. The woman, another artist type, became instantly memorable whereupon when she was asked if she had a pair of jeweller's pliers(needlenose for the rest of us) she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair. I vowed to never, ever be surprised by what I'd find in a woman's purse again. Her husband was much older, a 'nam vet and a peacenik. Not only did he sing some good ol' fashioned pinko music but he also had some original works. One of them(might as well beat her to the punch) got me a little choked up.
So this was the gang of ne'er-do-wells I had to deal with. The grilled me. They teased me for not having already been divorced and implored me to hurry up and get it done.
The night finally started to wind down. Peace and I said our good-byes and strode to the car. We couldn't smoke in the car so we sat on the rear bumper, finishing our stogies and gradually drawing nearer to each other. Up till this point she'd put on a very good public front. But without the prying eyes of friends and family around I'd finally be able to start working her.
It was when she asked me to drive that let me know she wanted an opportunity for her hands to wander. I was more than willing.
I was in the process of doing the things, making the slightest of motions to show my true intentions, when we came upon the scene of an terrible car accident. Trust me, there are few things to kill a mood(besides her laughing at you) than a car wreck. Being the goody little two shoes she is, Peace directed me to pull over to see what, if anything could be done. Curses! Foiled again!
We got out. Peace made the call while I apporached the driver. It was a nearly new Mitsubishi Eclipse and the front end was completely crumpled. The air was thick with the acrid scent of antifreeze and steam was emnating from the ruined radiator.
The girl was in a state of shock. I directed her to get out of the car if she could and asked her if she was ok. She insisted she was, though she constantly clutched at her chest in pain. Peace gave her her leather jacket to try and keep her warm. Some dudes came over and one of them gave Peace his own jacket. I shot him a look that said, "Yeah, I might be a jerk for not offering mine up. But that's ok. I'm warm. You're not."
Cops, paramedics, and a fire truck came. Having done our good deed for the day(I try to space mine out to just once a year) we were back on our way. There was no more hand holding going on. The mood had effectively been quashed.
We got back to her place and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Let me go slip into something a bit more comfortable."
"Hot dang!" I thought. And immediately visions of Teddys , rose petals, truffles, and D'Angelo playing in the back ground came to my mind. Alas she came down in something more comfortable, stretch pants and a sweatshirt.
We drank copious amounts of wine and smoked continuously while sitting outside. I figured it was now or never and immediately decided to try one of my old tried and true tactics. The tactic is simple...reel'em in and knock'em out. In my case, it's The Gootch's patented tell'em-some-fake-childhood-trauma-to-show-you're-sensitive-while-rubbing-their-feet.
Amidst-their-cooing-look-at-them-straight-in-the-face-and-ask-"Wanna Shag?"
Unfortunately in Peace's case, after I told her(something appropriately self-pitying as my mom as a drunk) she started weeping for me. Sigh, this wasn't exactly what I was shooting for. I can get sympathy back in Chicago. But nope; sympathy, empathy, and more rated PG hugging than I could imagine was in store for me. I tried my darndest to steer her away from that for the next 3 hours. Alas, my efforts proved futile.
Grrrr, this was goin to be tougher than I thought.
To be continued...
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Romana
Responsible
Supreme Hero
Thx :D
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posted October 15, 2005 10:32 PM |
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LMAO
Well..ok so I don't speak english that well.. I'd like to hear you try the dutch language
ps: it's Reiki
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The darkest skies show the brightest stars
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gorman
Promising
Legendary Hero
Been around since before 2003
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posted October 16, 2005 05:01 AM |
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Hmm...and to think my parent's are going out to Colorado around June or so of 2006.... Reading all this really wants me to join them.....heh..... *shudders*
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When all else fails... Take notes.... ALL the time... ESPECIALLY when playing D&D.... or Pokemon in my case
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted October 16, 2005 06:38 AM |
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Edited By: Consis on 16 Oct 2005
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LoL
You're a cad The_Gootch. It's the short and skinny of a man more human than gentleman. Hehehe, but don't get me wrong; doesn't mean you're a bad person; merely human. And in this cold-gadgeted wire-filled virtual pixel world, I'd say it's more than good to know real people with real livelihoods come here for their what-have-you's.
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Roses Are RedAnd So Am I
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted October 16, 2005 04:19 PM |
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The hysterical fact is that so far, nearly all of this is true. However just to twist the knife, I will refrain from sorting out the accuracies from the exaggerations and fabrications so's to avoid totally blowing The Gootch's online persona.
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I have menopause and a handgun. Any questions?
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gorman
Promising
Legendary Hero
Been around since before 2003
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posted October 30, 2005 08:49 AM |
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I sure hope The Gootch finishes it sometime so we may all read it. I may be sounding impatient but I'd like to know how the ending will be!
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When all else fails... Take notes.... ALL the time... ESPECIALLY when playing D&D.... or Pokemon in my case
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This thread is pages long: 
