An Evening with Vaginas in Their Various Guises

Such an evening. So many things.

WARNING--THIS POST CONTAINS SOME VERY EXPLICIT, FOUL-MOUTHED LANGUAGE.

Enjoy.

I left work @ about 4pm, headed just a few small miles west...to Century City. We had tickets to a one-time screening of "The Exorcist"...BUT FIRST--

We headed to a place called Pink Taco. It was our first experience of the evening w/ the many synonyms for the female version of the human anatomy. It's a Mexican place, and we were to meet Mr. McCaleb there for a pre-movie dinner. The food was great, the innards were pink (if you catch my drift) and we had a coupon. Good times. They even had a statue of the Virgin Mary, with a paint job surrounding her; in the form of--well, it looked like a vagina (perfect "appetizer" for "The Exorcist" just a few moments away--convenient!) Pink Taco--new one to me. Gross.

The information on our tickets for the film (oops, PICTURE--I want to call them PICTURES from here on out!) said there would be behind-the-scenes footage, but didn't mention that it would be BEFORE the 7pm showtime! Like, DUH--would have been good to know. So, we arrived a couple of minutes before the start, only to find Linda Blair talking about pea soup, or some other slimy anecdote (on screen, not in person).

The PICTURE (caught it this time) was filled with its usual greatness, and there was a continuation of the behind-the-scenes goodies afterward (don't know HOW I held my bladder that long). It was "the version you've never seen", but I noticed a missing "flash" of Pazazu that I specifically recall seeing in the later version when it was released back in 2000. Hmm. A few things. Did you know that Max Von Sydow (Father Merrin) was in his 40's when he played the exorcist? Neither did I. Also, the woman playing Father Karras' mother (Vasiliki Maliaros) was either chosen from the street, cuz she was so real--or is simply one of the best actresses that has ever appeared on film. I had to marvel @ her performance, cuz it wasn't one. Just realism. Watch her the next time you screen the PICTURE. Her brief exchange w/ Damian when he's bandaging her leg is marvelous. And, Father Dyer is a big old queen, and I'm surprised he didn't molest Karras after he removed his shoes and stole his half-smoked cigarette. Yes, I went there.

So this brings me to our second encounter w/ the vagina. "Do you know what she did? Your c***ing daughter?" What was the other line...something about letting Jesus do something, right? Oh, and what the doctor said about Regan's cursing. Lots of talk about lady parts.

Finally, the film (dammit, PICTURE) gave a couple of fun ideas that could be incorporated into the script which Mr. McCaleb and I are working on...well, that we WERE working on, since I've been nothing but a lazy writer with not so much an excuse as a simple "writer's block". Oh well.

We dropped off Mr. McCaleb, and headed on down Sunset, hitting a snafu of traffic toward Wilshire (which left me utterly impatient and angry)...and then--much closer to home, we were REAR-ENDED.

Here's where the third instance of our bush (excuse me) brush with the vagina comes into play. Interestingly enough, it was the "C" word again. We were @ a light, completely stopped, when we felt a hard bump and heard a "kuuuu-runch". Immediately, the other half got out and moved toward the car; which contained a woman (lady parts), and in anger (as many would do, and certainly HE would do) shouted something along the lines of "you stupid c***!" Needless to say, I was also unhappy, cuz I just wanted to come home and blog for all of my avid readers (of 0)! A couple of witnesses were on the scene, one of whom was a nice guy who came up to protect the woman who had rear-ended us. Being that we, two hopelessly effeminate gay men, were clearly going to attack her (gimme a break). While I appreciate his valiant knight routine, there was really no cause for alarm. We may have trucker mouths, but we're not violent, for Goddsake. Besides, I once shaved my legs for a drag stage role.

Anyway, things calmed down, and information was exchanged, but not before the rear-ender felt the need to cry (cuz she was called a name in anger-grow up, shall we?), and not before the valiant white knight got in the other half's face, and not before the rear-ender had the opportunity to play to perfection the part of the "victim" as yesterday was her birthday. I find this whole thing similar to the "noise issues" we're currently experiencing @ home. Quick history--we have neighbors who insist on playing their crappy, loud THROBBING dance music @ ridiculous hours of the day (i.e 4am on Sunday mornings--note the PLURAL) leaving us w/ little option but to write copious letters to our landlord, asking (BEGGING) that something be done. Our latest trip to speak to said landlord, to find out what is being done, only served to reveal that the NOISE-MAKERS wrote some form of complaint letter ABOUT US! Yeah, I don't get that either.

The connection here, is that I'm SICK AND TIRED of standing up for myself, and then the wrong-doers (makes me think of W.'s "evil-doers") attempt to make themselves the VICTIM. What is wrong in this world? You effed up, take responsibility, say your sorry and KNOCK OFF THE STUPID BEHAVIOUR!

The rear-ender proceeded to state that "she wouldn't have said such horrible things." Let me address that. We're not you. Everyone reacts to situations differently. You screwed up, not us. Get over it. She also said that she was "paying attention." Huh? PAYING ATTENTION? That's the best you can do? What kind of stupid thing is that? Who says something that dumb? Oh, you do, when you're in a stressful situation, cuz you just say what spills out of your mouth...hmm, JUST LIKE WE DID. Moron.

Of course, I'm left to stress about this, just as much as I am stressing about the noisy neighbors. I've read enough news reports, and watched enough Keith Olbermann to see that so many injustices happen in our legal system and in our society. The real victims get dragged around cuz the perpetrators (for lack of a better word) make a big stink, as if they were wronged. What was that case from years ago, about a burglar who sued the owners of the home he was robbing; cuz he slipped on their floor, or fell down their stairs, or some other ridiculous claim--and he won, if I recall. But, I don't have all the details. Maybe I'm just re-upping an urban legend. Whatever. You know it has happened, and it proves my point.

And in all of this, our precious Junior (our beloved truck) has his pride (not to mention his backside) hurt; cuz someone else was too busy texting or praying or eating or applying makeup or talking on the phone or looking in their glove compartment or changing the radio station or picking their nose or dying their hair or checking their watch or microwaving a burrito--to actually drive correctly.

This shit pisses me off, and maybe this is why I'm gay. I had a great evening with vaginas, but the ending portion of my journey to the other team ended w/ gunk on my face.

Ewwww.