Saturday, October 25, 2003

It's the Girls Are Pretty Stakeout Weekend!

On Friday, October 24th at 7 AM, Prettygirl rented a Ford Taurus and parked it on a residential street on the Upper East Side of New York City. The Taurus is currently parked with a clear view of a third floor apartment window. The man who owns this apartment is Prettygirl's Uncle Morris. Uncle Morris' seventieth birthday is coming up soon. Prettygirl has no idea what to get him for a gift, but she wants it to be something special. Therefore, it is necessary that his day to day life be monitored, charted, and that conclusions be drawn as to just the kind of man this Uncle Morris truly is, and whether he would prefer a roll-neck J. Crew sweater, or a Tivo.

Thus far, Prettygirl has learned that Uncle Morris will not put on pants unless it is absolutely necessary. Additionally, his groin is itchy.

Not a lot to go on, which is why your personal regression assignments might be given to you on a less than regular basis, as Prettygirl is primarily alone on this Stakeout. Except when a boy named David visits the car so that she can run to a public bathroom or a Kinkos, then run back to the car to make out with David until he has to go back to class (he's studying to be an astronaut).

Yesterday's and today's assignments are below. Keep your head down and pass the donuts.

Saturday, October 25, 2003

King Libido Day!

Today, King Libido will leer out from his throne and decree, "Everybody come up here and rub upon me." And all shall obey.

Happy King Libido Day!

Friday, October 24, 2003

She's Way Fucked Up Day!

You fell in love with her on her first day of orientation at the museum. You showed everyone in your training group where the bathrooms were, and she said "Man, I'm gonna be spending a lot of time in there today. I've been sick to my stomach for three years now."

She's the prettiest museum guard you ever did see. And after months of shuffling your days off, you finally got it so that you're both in the Degas room on Fridays, and you both get off at six.

You'll ask if she'd like to grab a beer and she'll say, "I'll drive." You'll spend hours at the bar. The conversation will be just as perfect as you imagined it would be. The kind of ease with a person that you haven't felt since the last time you fell in love. You'll both have had quite a lot to drink, but alcohol doesn't make this kind of thing happen. You'll blame your hearts.

Finally, you'll suggest that the two of you get out of there. She'll say, "I'll drive." But she'll be way fucked up, and when she hits an icy patch she'll send the car into a ditch. You'll both live, but she'll have a horrible scrape on her face from the airbag. You'll wait inside the car for the police to arrive, holding each other for warmth, smothering each other with gentle kisses upon the face and neck. It's going to be wonderful.

Happy She's Way Fucked Up Day!