“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 172: Scat, Fork, Douchebag, & Dada

March 25, 2014

Today I’ll be jumping from subject to subject, so be alert, stay with me Invisible Journal Reading People…

I got a text from Emma a few days after her birthday saying that she’s sorry about what happened because she doesn’t want to lead me on.   I texted back, “np” even though that is kind of a problem for me.  It means she regrets what we did because it didn’t mean anything to her.  She says she was caught up in the moment.  Yeah, np, that happens.  I thought maybe I should apologize as well, but I decided not to, because I was kinda hurt by that, but whatever.  I’ll get over it, keep it peaceful, no resentments, stay friends, and move on.  Because if I leave it awkward, then she won’t want to hang with me, and since we’ve just started to talk more and see each other more, I don’t want to ruin that.  I still won’t give up, but it’s got to be smooth, not forced, and at her pace as well.

Blues Monday was yesterday.  Mean Joe scatted.  No, I don’t mean he shit himself or anything.  He got up and sang and scat.  It’s pretty cool, but what I want to know is, how do people know what to say next when they scat?  Is it written out like lyrics?  scoobeedoo batbadapa dopbedoo whatthefuckanotherscoobeedoo bowwowyeaahhh

mhm scoobeedoo bowwow is pretty much the kind of thing they say.  Or like Marilyn Monroe’s version of scat, dobedo beboopydoo bedopoopoopedoo ooh

I kind of don’t like those words coming out of my face so I can never see myself scatting, unless I was to do it in my mock Louis Armstrong or then there’s Louis Prima shoobedo shoobedoshoobedoo

But I don’t know…

Wall Grimm ponders…

Yeah so Saturday.

Saturday before I visited Bogart, I went out to breakfast with Pete, Morgan, and Danika.  Sweetheart didn’t want to come.  I was reminded of a personal lesson that morning:

NEVER SAY ANYTHING TO FEMALES THAT CAN’T BE COMPLETELY INTERPRETED AS A COMPLIMENT.

I should have remembered that, but every now and then it slips my mind.

I said to Morgan, “you have some clumps on your eyelashes” or something like that.

She was like, “it’s clumpy mascara, it’s supposed to be that way.”

Danika said, “yeah it’s fashionable, men don’t know anything.”

Well maybe I don’t know anything about fashion, but I know what looks good, I think that says something.  Of course I didn’t say that or I’d have gotten a fork in my forehead I’m sure of it.

I mean, it didn’t look bad, it just looked…ummm…clumpy.

I did say, “I know plenty there missy, and I didn’t say it looks bad, I just thought…”  Then I didn’t know what to say without putting my foot in my mouth.  But I saved myself by saying “missy” because that amuses these two particular girls for some reason.  I reserve it for times when I’m getting into trouble, and it usually works to divert their attention from the situation at hand.  And of course the situation has to be trivial.

And Pete chimes in that he likes the mascara.  Pete, being gay, can do no wrong with these girls.  But I’m just a ‘typical guy’ and guys ‘know nothing’.  Why is that not sexist?  What if I said to the girls, “typical women, don’t know anything”?  Yep, then I’d have not only a fork in my forehead, but I’d also have a display of cutlery sticking out of my balls.  Then they’d call it art, Dada or something, and tell me I’m just a typical Neanderthal who doesn’t appreciate art.

Ah, women make life interesting that’s for sure.

The point is, it’s good to phrase things properly to guard against any possibility of misinterpretation.  Or castration.

Also on Saturday, I got a call from Dave.  He was desperate and needed me to go over there, he was freaking out and I’m the only one he trusts.  I believed him, so I met him at Dunkin Donuts because I didn’t want to be on his turf.  He said that this whole curse thing has been causing him a lot of anxiety.  Fucking pussy.  So now he’s on this new medication, and after a week he finally read the information for the prescription and the side effects are causing him further anxiety.

He says, “does my face look ok to you?”

“What?”

“Look at my face?  Does it look real?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Then he showed me the prescription insert.  He’s taking Buspirone and one of the side effects is “mask-like facial expression”.  I laughed aloud, which is rare, but it’s good to laugh aloud at Dave.

I said, “so you’re asking if your face is mask-like?”

“Yeah, am I moving it?”

Then he starts making all these strange movements with his face.  So I told him, “no, you’re not moving it, why, what are you trying to do?”

He said he was trying to be sure it wasn’t stiff and incapable of making expression.

I told him to just do that as much as he can to be sure he doesn’t lose that ability.  I couldn’t help myself.

Then he asked me if he’d be able to get some kind of anti-mojo to protect him from my curse.  I said no, but he said he would look into it anyway.  I said what does he plan on doing that he needs an anti-mojo for.  He said, “I don’t know, break your fingers?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yeah, break your fingers and bash your fucking face in.”

“Why?”

Then he paused…”I don’t even know anymore…I forgot.”

“Are you that desperate to have me as a consumer?”

“We were friends, Grimm.  You fucked me over.”

“How did I do that?”

“That’s what you did.  You broke up my shit and fucked me up.”

“And you didn’t deserve that?”

“You did something else too, I think I owed Tony money because of it.”

“You’re a douchebag.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re a douchebag.”

“Fuck you.”

“Your face doesn’t move when you say that.  Are you trying to express anger?”

“Oh man, this is fucking bullshit.  I’m out.”  And he left.

I went home, popped some valerian and drowned myself in chamomile tea.  Not really, but those are my drugs of choice as of late.  I did however visit Ayla and get a blow job.  And I’m pretty sure I was making a lot of facial expressions throughout the process.

My theme song is by Dada, because I mentioned Dada and it made me think of Dada.  I also mentioned chamomile and it made me think of Dada.  But my theme song isn’t “The Ballad of Earl Grey and Chamomile” it’s “Dizz Knee Land”.  By Dada.

*******

previous Grimm 171: Emma’s Birthday part II & the Premature Boom http://wp.me/p41c99-I7

next Grimm 173: “Sharknado” & What Did Great, Great, Great Grandpa Grimm Do? http://wp.me/p41c99-Jo

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page http://wp.me/P41c99-J

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

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Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

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7 thoughts on ““The Journal of Wall Grimm” 172: Scat, Fork, Douchebag, & Dada

  1. Reblogged this on SageDoyle.

  2. you scat just as well as the mother of scat, ella fitzgerald!

  3. I can’t stop laughing.
    First – “I kind of don’t like those words coming out of my face”
    And second I burst out laughing at work at:

    “Look at my face? Does it look real?”

    “What the fuck are you talking about?”

    Then he showed me the prescription insert. He’s taking Buspirone and one of the side effects is “mask-like facial expression”.

    • lol yeah that is a real side effect. Someone I know recently started taking that medication and she was reading the info on it. We were laughing so hard because we’d never heard of that side effect before. I mean obviously it’s a real thing, but the description of it had such comedy potential. I told her I had to use that. I’ve been holding onto the idea until I could think of the perfect character/scenario to use it on.

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