Hittin’ the Red Terry

The other day I was chatting with MiniMe about her trip to Ireland. She told me she likes Jameson. A day or two later she asked, “Were you disappointed that I drink or that I like Jameson?” I replied, “That you like Jameson. My blog is GrigioGirl, not JamesonJezebel.”

MiniMe stayed at my house while I was in Seniorville. Apparently the mouse in the house, aka MiniMe, ate my ice cream. Yes, my freezer burn ice cream. The ice cream I was saving to enjoy with the muscat. OregganO replied, “That sounds really good, but I can’t eat ice cream.” So, we just drank muscat and observed.

From where OregganO was sitting, she could see Red Terry and PhD in Sponges. From where I was sitting, I could see drive-bys. A lot of drive-bys tonight. Even had a few ding-dong bys. No black men today. Last time OregganO and I drank in the house, and the doorbell rang, OregganO ran for the door, “ate shit and fell”, while making the backroom corner, only to tell me, “there is a black man at your door.” I do know some “black men”, but outside of Dr. BJ, most of them don’t have my home address. Not yet, anyway.

OregganO and I pulled out the binoculars to observe activity taking place, approximately 20 feet from our said position. I thought we (OregganO and I) were both involved in a mutual conversation when she said, completely out of context,  “Hand gestures, pencil flipping, eraser biting, eyebrows raised, they’re weird.”

“I really wish I could see that,” I told her. “We have to see how long they sit at the table without pulling out a calculator and a tablet of paper,” she retorted. Hmmm. I think I may have to binoc OregganO and Cream of Tartar’s asses. Sounds like they’re kinky.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” blurted OregganO, “She is workin’ it in the red terry, working isn’t working for her or him, but the red terry, oh yeah!”

A few seconds later, OregganO proclaimed, “What about a couch? I used to be a davenport, only because I used to be in a play, don’t tell MiniMe.” Later she said, “It’s almost like PhD in Sponges has a real job:  hittin’ the Red Terry.”