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The Chicken Up The Nose
Club
G: Chris Welsh came to visit
for the weekend. He arrived late Friday night. We awaited his arrival
by watching the special features on a borrowed DVD of Little Shop of
Horrors, then the movie itself, then the whole movie again with
commentaries. John left and came back from picking Chris up at the
metro about half way through the commentaries. We were up really late.
In the bloopers and outtakes section, there was a tiny snippet from the
original ending of the movie - the ending that follows along with the
original movie's and the Broadway musical's endings - where Audrey and
Seymour are eaten by the plant, and it plus its progeny go on to
conquer the world. There were two sky-scraper sized plants doing
Godzilla impersonations through NY city. I've always wanted to see this
ending, although I probably would have agreed with test audiences at
the time that it was too sad. When the DVD first came out it included
the original ending as an extra, but was quickly pulled since David
Geffen did not approve it being included. These DVDs are very hard to
come by and can sell for over $100 on ebay. I'm hoping someone will
just put the clip on the web - I haven't found it yet.
On Saturday John went with Chris to hang out at the New Deal while I
did my exercise and walked Booda. When I got back, there was a message
on the machine from my brother telling me of some very sad news. Al
Yankovic's parents both passed away on Friday from carbon monoxide
poisoning from the fireplace in their home. I feel awfully sad for Al.
Remarkably, he is going on with his tour. I think that is very brave.
Read Al's message about it here.
After John came home, without Chris who went to Luisa's to help her in
her garden, we hung around the house for a while then repaired our
garden fence. Chris came back and later we all went to Peter May's
house to a pinata busting party. Luisa and Ellen had given Dina a
pinata for her birthday a month before, and Kristen Hughes was in town
from Seattle. Seemed reason enough to have a party. Several people had
fun beating on the pinata, blindfolded. When it was busted up enough it
was just poured out on the ground. There were condoms and candies and
little tiny plastic chickens, of the rubber variety.
I noticed the little chicken I picked up was kind of tapered, about and
inch and a half long. It looked perfect for inserting into...something.
I challenged some people around me to stick it up their nose. Quite a few
did, and so I started inviting others to do so by asking if they would
like to join the Chicken Up The Nose Club. Soon members were high
fiving each other so I figured I'd give it a try. I only stuck the head
in a little, it tickled too much to do it any further. As the
night wore on, and more people joined the club, I started ranking them.
I believe Gary was the first to insert the chicken so that just his
tiny little legs were hanging out of his nose, and I decided that was
Platinum membership. Suzette, Andreas, and I think Dorian were the next
ones to achieve Platinum status. Others were Gold members, where the
chicken was about halfway in.
Now, I
haven't been drinking alcohol except for an occasional sip since last
summer - because I'm not supposed to with my acid reflux. But I did
start off the party with one drink. This is when I started up the Club.
I kept drinking though. I started another club for those who weren't
interested in the Chicken Up The Nose Club, and that would be the
Chicken In The Ear Club. I had so many members of both clubs, and many
overlapping, that now I can't quite remember who was in which and what
level. But they all know. Anyway, I decided that I could do better,
being the founder of the club. By sliding the chicken along the side of
the inside of my nose, I found it didn't tickle and I could get it all
the way up. I was very proud of my new Platinum status, and received
hoots and hollers and cheers of approval from everyone at the party.
But was that good enough? I acquired another chicken, and figured since
one wasn't too hard, I could do two. One in each nostril. I was the
first Double Platinum member - and only a few others have achieved this
prestigious rank. One is Amethyst, another, Rich. There are others, and
they know who they are, but I can't remember.
After my first display of Platinum membership, Kristen asked if she
could get some pictures of it. So in they went again, and digital
photos were taken. I found I had to hold onto the chicken's legs when I
laughed - it felt like they might get sucked up into my sinuses
otherwise. A little while later Kristen said she'd accidentally erased
the photos. So I did it again, and we got a cd burned of all the
pictures taken that night. I think I even tried again and decided my
nostrils were too sore.
I had a great time at the party. I was affectionately called "obtuse"
and "weird" and maybe even "the life of the party." But hey, I would
have just been an annoying jerk if nobody wanted to join my clubs. I
got pretty sloshed, and, surprisingly, so did Kory. He very rarely
drinks, and later said he hadn't been that drunk in ten years. At some
point, someone asked what the chicken's names were. I was shocked that
I hadn't even thought about it. I named them by their differing
defining characteristics; Big Eyes Not Orange Feet - Benof (the
original chicken) and Small Eyes Orange Feet - Seof. After that I
really started noticing how nicely detailed they were. Their little
beaks, combs, wattles, and feet! Adorable! I declared that I loved
these little plastic rubber chickens more than any other inanimate
object. I kept showing them off to people and and trying to get them to
see how great they were. And then I would struggle to - but
successfully - figure out their names again. Anyway.
The next day (Sunday) my nostrils were sore, but I wasn't really hung
over. We spent a little time at the New Deal Cafe, where there was a
fellow by the name of Wynn Paris doing Indian type music. Izolda showed
up too. I told her I wasn't sure, now that I was sober, about the
chickens being my most loved inanimate objects, but then again I
haven't thought of anything else that I could name as such. Jenny met
us there and later Chris went off to help Luisa in her garden more, or
something, John went to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
again, and Jenny and I went to dinner at Chef's Secret. Then we went to
dance night at Alex and Renee's. John showed up later and played Go
with Speaker and taught it to Alex and Jeff. I recruited a few more
members to the clubs. Rich crucified Seof on a matchstick in "honor" of
Easter. I put Benof and Seof in my pocket before going home.
Monday I had a dentist appointment and a doctor appointment. I'm
scheduled to have an endoscopy next Thursday, even though the doc says
there isn't much reason for it. The only thing they can see is if
there's a hiatal hernia or if I have Barret's Esophagus (lots of damage
to the esophagus), but that isn't likely since the Ear/Nose/Throat
doctor didn't see anything in my throat. Otherwise, treatment is the
same as before - taking something like Prevasid.
Later that day I realized I didn't really know where Benof and Seof
were. I had on the same jeans, and they weren't in the pocket. I
figured they would turn up, though. I eventually found Seof on the
bathroom floor, but Benof is still lost...
We got Kory and went to eat at Hard Times cafe. We came home and had a
hilarious game of Why Did The Chicken. One round nearly killed John, he
was laughing so hard. The question: What's the old saying about a
woodpecker and a grave digger? Chris's answer, read by Chris in that
gravely country voice he does: "Don't never invite a woodpecker or a
grave digger to yer funeral - one's no good, and the other's a
bastard." Okay, I guess you had to be there. Chris went back to Philly
that night.
John did our taxes Tuesday night with Taxcut. John Yay! John Yay!
Wednesday night John went with Dorian, Rich, Paul and Jack to Duclaws,
a brew pub in Bowie, for Paul's birthday. They were checking it out
since it was too rainy to ride to Franklin's, and Amethyst had been
there the night before and liked it. I don't think John liked it as
much as Franklin's. He says they don't brew the beer on the premises,
and someone had told Dorian happy hour was until 8pm, but it was only
till 7pm, and even though they got there with 6 minutes until 7pm, they
claimed happy hour was over. Sheesh!
When I came home from teaching my class I found a card with my name on
the envelope on the kitchen counter. It was from John, and also signed
by all of the above folks who went to the bar, offering their
sympathies on my lost little chicken, Benof. Or Seof, they couldn't
remember which. On the front is a picture of a teddy bear in a
nightgown with wings and a halo flying over a forest, holding, very close to
his nose, a red heart that John
transformed into a chicken.
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alfred's
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the green man review
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