More Canadian Lily and Lobby Confessions.

Yes, I know “Canadian Lily” sounds like a brand of alcohol, but I was in the zone. Shut up.

If you haven’t read Lily Morgan’s 5×5 installment yet, you’re cheating yourself. Go back and do it – NOW!

 

Lily knocked herself out for yours truly (oddly enough, most women prefer it that way), and while she got 41 “likes” – which rocks, of course – I think she deserves better. Then again, I’m biased.

 

Moving on…

Stuff I’ve already overheard in the lobby today that makes me want to re-evaluate my membership in the human league:

I’m not going to identify the speakers, folks; their words require little context. And besides, we have enough barriers between us; let’s just agree that at times, we’re all dumbasses.

1)  “I’d shake your lovely hand, young lady, but I just hand my penis in my hand.”  (The most disturbing aspect of this sentence? This yahoo was nowhere near the bathroom for fifteen minutes before he met up with friends and their college-age daughter!)

2)  “He wanted to put it ‘there‘, but I made him promise to at least think about getting me a promise ring next year. Oh, and since we ran out of lube we had to call room service for some jam. It was a wild night!” 

Two things: 1)  Thank God young ladies don’t care who is listening while they rummage through their luggage before storing it.  2)  Thank God I hate jam.

3)  “I can’t find my baby boy! (Her “baby” was ten-going-on-serial-killer.) He was running around the lobby and now he’s gone! Do you think the dingo ate my baby?  Ha ha!” (It has to be said: Even dingoes have standards.)

4)  (In a whispery tone.)  “Never. Again.”

5)  (While banging furiously on our brand-spanking-new white elephant revolving door.)  “HELP! I’M TRAPPED IN YOUR DOOR AND I CAN’T GET OUT!” CALL THE COPS! OR ANYONE WITH AN AXE”

6)  “Yo, cracker!  Where the garage? Where my car at?”

7)  (While reading the room bill.)  “Ten bucks for eggs?  You better jerk me off first if you’re going to charge me ten bucks for eggs, motherfucker!”

8)  (After walking into our brand-spanking-new white elephant revolving door while reading the room bill.)  “Son of a bitch! Now I got a sore head and I still paid ten bucks for eggs!”  

Unable to hold back any longer, I was forced to yell out across the empty lobby: “And you still didn’t get jerked off!”  Which led to…

9)  “Yeah! I got a sore head, my bitch already left, I paid ten bucks for eggs and I still didn’t get jerked off! Motherfucker!”  (On the plus side, he laughed a bit while saying all that.)

10)  “Why did we buy all these extra Christmas presents? Our kids are ungrateful, unruly, hyperactive, soul-sucking leeches, anyway!”

11)  “Is everyone ready to go? Hey! Where Pookie at?”  (It’s been far too long since I’ve heard of anyone traveling with a Pookie, I’d almost forgotten how lazy people get when it comes to nicknames.)

12) “There’s a lot of Asians here! Is Niagara the Tokyo of Canada?”

And on that semi-racist note, I think I’m going to head out and return to my duties as a gratuity-slave. Tomorrow is not only The Big Day, it also marks the start of two blissful work-free days for The Hook. I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t feel as Christmasy (yes, that’s a word, I just used it), as I should. I may seem one-dimensional at times, folks, but The Hook has layers.

Oh well, be well, my dear friends.  Each and every one of you rocks and your friendship and support has give me countless minutes of pleasure.

Kidding!

You are the fire that burns in my creative furnace, giving me the power to move on and set back to work on the second installment of my book. “The Bellman Chronicles: Book Two. Now with less suck!“.  Of course, I’ve spent the last two weeks concentrating on 5×5 – in-between being a husband, dad and bellman, that is – but next week I’ll be back at it.

In other news, Sarah’s illustrations for “The Misadventures of Misery” are complete and now we can move into the production phase.  I’d still give just about anything to get Ellen’s attention, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.

Overall though, my life is pretty sweet. Here’s why:

• I have a dream job, designed for a soul who loves to “people watch” – and write.
• My wife really is my best friend.  I drive her nutty, but she knows I mean well, so we’re good.
• Sarah is the best daughter anyone could ask for.  (Yes, everyone says that about their kid. But they’re wrong. I have the best kid and I’ll dispatch a Dalek hit squad to the home of anyone who disagrees.)
• I am protected from the elements by a cozy dwelling. (The furnace died two days ago, but we recovered nicely.) Fortunately, I’m not douchey enough to undervalue the importance of that in a world where millions will be sleeping in the streets tonight in various parts of the planet.
• I have food in my Canadian belly and a song in my heart.

That’s it for now, folks. Have a Merry Christmas or whatever celebration you observe. (If you worship zombie unicorns, have a happy Pointy Day.)

See you in the lobby…

I WROTE A BOOK.  HERE’S WHAT THE BACK LOOKS LIKE.