Tuesday, August 26, 2008

'Tis the Season

The Democrats in Denver. The Republicans in Minneapolis-St. Paul. And the Fibertarians in the smaller of the two party rooms on the second floor, near the fitness center.

I came home from the gym this morning to find a Fibertarian Party round table in progress. The convention’s right around the corner, you know. Next weekend. If you can’t be here, I think they’re broadcasting it on Chicago Public Access. Or maybe Animal Planet. I can’t remember.

Dolores was there, of course, along with Mrs Teitelbaum, Harry, Victorine, and a sheep I’d never seen before.

Dolores had the floor, by which I mean she and Victorine were exchanging simultaneous streams of bilingual invective while Harry blew on his rape whistle and called for order. Mrs Teitelbaum jumped up and hustled me back into the foyer.

“This is a closed meeting,” she said. “Unless you have one of the little access passes you better scoot. I don’t know how you got past the security guy anyhow.”

“Mrs Teitelbaum, it’s me, Franklin. I live here.”

“They said no exceptions. You better scoot, I know how to use this!” She rummaged in her wicker purse and whipped out a tazer.

“Harry!” I shouted, flattening myself against the wall, “Please tell the delegate from apartment 1507 to stand down and let me in!”

Harry hustled over. “It’s okay,” he said. “He’s with me.”

Mrs Teitelbaum looked disappointed. “I thought we were having a security breach,” she said glumly.

“No,” said Harry soothingly. “Maybe next time.”

“You said that when they delivered the sandwiches,” she pouted.

In living room, glass shattered.

“Uh oh,” said Harry. “They must have moved onto the next agenda item without me.”

They had.

Fibertarian Planning Meeting

“You’re just in time, cupcake,” said Dolores. “We’re almost out of beverages. Take a coupla fifties out of my lingerie drawer and go get us something with backbone.”

“Not for me,” said the Unknown Sheep. “Four bottles of spring water, Icelandic. Thinly sliced lime, organic. Why are you not writing this down?”

“Meet my new image consultant,” said Dolores. “My cousin, Lana.”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Franklin.”

“Should I care? Wait. No. Don’t care. Lime. Organic. Now.”

“Gimme the latest from the key demographics,” said Dolores. “How am I playing with the elderly?”

“Well,” said Mrs Teitelbaum, “Yesterday after Senior Yoga I asked around and most everybody thinks you’re just a slut.”

“I’ll write ‘no change,’” said Harry, scribbling on his note pad.


“Way up,” said Harry, “Because you accidentally slipped Julio a fistful of twenties during Mucho Guapo night at the Lucky Horseshoe.”

“Super,” said Dolores. “Now, wardrobe. We were in the middle of discussing that when Mademoiselle Chanel here got uppity.”

“Eef you lahk,” said Victorine pertly, “Ah go back to Québec zeese eenstahnt.”

“Stop being a primadonna and show me the sketch for my acceptance speech.”

Victorine pushed a half-eaten pizza out of the way and propped up a large drawing of Dolores in a navy blue suit.

“Is she supposed to run for president in that?” snorted Lana. “Or host a Methodist bean supper?”

“Eet ees classique,” sniffed Victorine. “Eet weel flatter zee feegure.”

“Don’t talk to me about her figure,” said Lana. “The last time I saw that much real estate in ruins I was inspecting the Lower Ninth Ward after Katrina.”

“Should I write that in the notes?” said Harry.

“No,” said Dolores. “Let the record show that the candidate feels very confident about her level of badonkadonk and that the image consultant is not exactly an oil painting, herself.”

“Au contraire,” said Victorine. “She look to me lahk a Monet. Eef you get too close you see she ees beeg mess.”

As Lana reached for Victorine’s left ear with her teeth, I decided to go spend the rest of the day at the coffee shop. But when I opened the front door, there was a loud WOOF and suddenly I was on the floor underneath seventy pounds of dog–Tom’s Boxer/cannonball mix, Augie.

“Security breach!” screamed Mrs Teitelbaum.

“Hi, Augie,” said Harry. “Augie’s our new chief of security.”

“You’re kidding me,” I sputtered, trying in vain to push the security chief’s slobbery tongue away from my glasses.

“Nope! He volunteered! He’s even working for free.”

Augie woofed proudly.

“I think,” whispered Harry, “that he has a crush on Dolores.”

“Great,” I said. “A little romance. That’s all we’ve been missing around here.”

“Hotcha!” said Harry.

“Woof!” said Augie.

To be continued.


Linda said...

Whoa...first... nice!

Can't wait for the continuing saga!

Ted said...


Perfect. Love it.

Muriel said...

This is gonna be good. Fasten your seatbelts and ensure your tray is in the upright position.

Ginaagain said...

Delores and her level of badonkadonk scare the lint out of me...

lucky knitter said...

I'd like to sign on the dotted line to join the partee!

Samoofish said...

Confirming again that I shouldn't read your posts while at work. Random laughter scares the cube-mates.

quinn said...

Dolores puts the baaaa in badonkadonk.

Kristen said...

"Boxer/cannonball mix" Oh. My. God. My grandmother used to raise boxers. You've hit the nail on the head! Every boxer under 5 I've ever known is like that. You had me giggling remembering how many times I was knocked off my feet by an exuberant Boxer when I was a child.

Jen said...

love Harry's Agnes Gooch comment!

La Cabeza Grande said...

You're a hoot and a holler, I tell you what! I love the comments, too.

Kitty Mommy said...

"[T]he candidate feels very confident about her level of badonkadonk"


Cheryl said...

I've always felt very confident about my level of badonkadonk as well.

Joy said...

Too funny! Franklin, I hope you survive the campaign!

Evelyn said...

“You’re just in time, cupcake,” said Dolores. “We’re almost out of beverages. Take a coupla fifties out of my lingerie drawer and go get us something with backbone.”

How do you do it? You capture that personality with a few swift strokes!

FiberQat said...

Sounds like a normal convention, complete with smoke-filled room.
Better go take a few days and stay at a friends until the festivities are over. And update your insurance policy to cover hoof marks on your credenza.

RedLetter Rev said...

I won't tell you how I got here but I am SO bookmarking your blog. I haven't laughed this hard in ages. Nothing like good creative writing and you are, ah, passing creative.

One country gayguy passing as a wedding officiant in the wilds of rural NC

Anonymous, too said...

This doesn't bode well. Is your apartment haunted by the ghost of Irwin Allen?

Miss Knit said...


I needed that. Thanks.

Tiggywinkle Knits said...

Priceless, Franklin, absolutely priceless? Are you sure you don't want to escape the Convention and come out to Oregon Flock and Fiber? Oh wait, that's not where the convention is, is it????

Puss-in-Boots said...

Oh, j'adore Victorine...ze accent, ze flare...magnifique!

meezermeowmy said...

Absolutely the most interesting political story of the year!

Andrea said...

Why wasn't I invited to that party? I want to go. Wait! no... I think I'm kind of scared!

Kate G. said...

Poor Franklin. It's painful being a roommate to the politically active, BUT it does make for great material.

Victorine is a dream. It takes a born critic to give Monet a fleecing. Now go get those limes and remember to bring back a bone for Augie, (that is, if you want to get back in the door).

Nancy said...

Oh yes, that mystery 'something', that special 'it'. You either have it or spend a lifetime in desperate envy of -- badonkadonk!

Be still my heart! Sign me up!

MIchelleinCO said...

Love the Katrina comment--I need to save that, never know when it might come in handy again! Thanks for the laugh today! Previous entry with your assessment of your knitting was also funny. So glad you're here with us!

Jo Anne W-M said...

I am sure the same scene is taking place at the McCain headquarters with a slightly different cast of characters. I'd love to have a video camera planted to record it.

Sandy said...

Confindence in one's own badonkadonk is crucial to one's own success, if you ask me.

And Delores has Got It.

Heidi said...

My face hurts from laughing so hard.

And--enquiring minds WANT to know how redletter rev made his way here...

dale-harriet said...

i thnk i just wet my pants. i'm so glad to read this. the fibertarians around here tend to the leather-and-harley-hog beer-drinking sort (they made up a song about "Do-LOOOOO-ros, the Candidate with Thongs" but I didn't take it down). Wonder how her groups are doing in other states? And yeah,I'm curious about the redletter rev my own self. (most of the workers in this precinct are cats, by the way, and don't even ask about the smell of a closed room of catnip-smoking-beer-drinking-leather-wearing Fibertarian campaigners....and the litterbox is down the hall)

katilo said...

I can't wait until this becomes the newest Saturday morning cartoon!!!! LOL

Tiny Tyrant said...

I"m asking again.

When are you gonna write a children's book?

Or even just an adult fiction book.

Your stuff is hilarious. I'm gonna get in so much trouble at work.

Gail said...

Um, so, is it still safe to carry the Dolores 2008 bag in public?

Rene said...

I took my 1.5 year old son to the zoo, and we heard a sheep that I'm sure is related to Delores. "Baaaah," said the other sheep. "BeeAAAAAArgh!" said this sheep. "That sheep sounds like she's been hanging out inside a smoky bar for the last 30 years," said my husband. My son started to cry and we had to leave.

I was already thinking "Delores!"

Rene said...

Gah! Don't know why I always want to put an extra e in her name. Dolores, of course, not Delores.

Alwen said...

Boxer? Tom has a Boxer?

That reminds me, what do you call a poodle with an allover short clip?

a tighty whitey

I'll just go away now.

Deborah said...

“The last time I saw that much real estate in ruins I was inspecting the Lower Ninth Ward after Katrina.”

When will I learn not to drink anything while reading your post! You are the best!
p.s. what IS up with redletter? How did he get here?

Lynne said...

A convention classic, will never watch another without thinking of Delores. And what she can do to the publicans.

terri said...

Just one of the many reasons I love this place!!

David said...


I don't mean to scare you, but have you seen this?

: p

kmkat said...

I just want to know which is the sheep in the Mohawk.

Marlene said...

For God's sake Franklin...Will you PLEASE write a Dolores book?!?!?!?

Anonymous said...

Badonkadonk? Is that English?

Franklin, you are really funny--right up there with Stephanie McPhee!


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cara mengobati wasir dalam said...

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