Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Not-So-Tall Tales

with 3 comments

There are my friends, and then there are my friends. To make it into bold face fame, there are a number of things you can do to jump from a Lackluster Lolita to a Fabulous Familiar. If we have a history together, like if you witnessed me crapping myself whilst pushing the monster out of my uncooperative front parlor, you’re in. If you’re smarter, funnier, or cooler than me, you pass – just barely – but if you’re a beauty queen on top of everything else, you’re a liability to the group. I also appreciate a good storyteller, especially when the story ends in shenanigans.

Bangs McGee once told me about a girlfriend of hers who accidentally cut off her labia with the kitchen shears, in preparation for shaving. When she began telling the story, I had a lightning round of woman’s intuition that screamed THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL, but I was committed because Bangs spins a pretty good yarn. Apparently the friend just lopped it off like an errant piece of sandwich meat, freaked out, threw it in the toilet, and flushed. I laughed like a hyena on mescaline through the emergency phone call to a drag queen named Kahlua Ice (“Girl, I just cut off my vagina”), all the way to the end where it was revealed that labias DO grow back (weird!) ‘like a motherfucking starfish’, end quote. And that’s why her nickname is Starfish, which made me wish the story was about me and my Go-Go Gadget Labia. Alas.

Miss Peachtree shared a great tale of tragicomedy about her and a friend, Miss Bi-Coastal, on mushrooms in Mexico; it was my favorite kind of story because it just kept getting worse, in the best possible way. First off, they ran into Miss Bi-Coastal’s mom and friend (they were staying at the same timeshare resort), who convinced them – in their sun-and-shroom weakened state – to join a timeshare owners meeting in the cabana; apparently the meeting was held by a Mexican dude who spoke very little English, which was hilarious to my shroomy little friends. What followed was this: mom and daughter were entered into a dance contest by Mexican Dude, the kind where you stop when the music stops; of course Miss Bi-Coastal was on mushrooms, and of course MRS. Bi-Coastal studied modern African dance, or something equally humiliating on a middle-aged white lady. Miss Peachtree had the presence of mind to tell the other lady that they were super drunk – but just thinking about those two girls, wide-eyed like the freaks in Soundgarden’s Black Hole Sun video, makes me poop with laughter. Also:  Miss Bi-Coastal placed SECOND in the dance contest, to which I give her mad fucking props.

Manthony has topped all of these stories by BECOMING a story of his own. After working for what we’ve now deemed COMMUNIST CHINA (which is sadly accurate–although it wasn’t like that in the beginning), Manthony finally accepted a better position at a new spa, and wowed the everlasting bejeezus out of me when he quit with an email haiku.

A new job offer
that I accepted today.
I will not be back.

If that doesn’t get you in through the front door to my friendship, I don’t know what will. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to quit my last job through a jingle, or at least iambic pentameter.

I love my friends.


Written by sn0tteh

August 28, 2008 at 4:34 PM

Posted in haiku, labia, shrooms

3 Responses

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  1. Seriously funny story!


    August 28, 2008 at 10:01 PM

  2. I thought a haiku would be way classier than a limerick.


    August 29, 2008 at 3:57 AM

  3. They always are.

    Snotty McSnotterson

    August 29, 2008 at 2:26 PM

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