Make me an offer.
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More by Dame Ruth, Chief Executive Elitist D. |
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More by Dame Ruth, Chief Executive Elitist D. |
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Comments: 59
If you are afraid that my kitchen might be dirty, and therefore are not comfortable eating anything that came out of it, I can trade you one make your own cat shit volcano kit.
If you do not want to make your own cat shit volcano, I can trade you a night with my husband and the pink, fuzzy shackles.
If you do not want a night with my husband, I can trade you a bunch of crappy children's artwork to hang on your refrigerator.
If you do not want crappy children's artwork, I can trade you a crock pot full of vomitous bilge. Or the cookbook it came from.
If you don't want any of this, I'll think of something else.
Dame I will send you the homemade Chili Sauce made from a recipe my grandma have me. You will love it to pieces. Actually it's much better on a burger than on pieces, but whichever way you chose you will be happy you made the deal.
I only have two skills: Writing and, well... yeah. Is this article flagged?
How's about a comic book written by Yours Truly? It's all I have "in stock," so to speak.
I can trade you a folder full of bad poetry. Or unfinished articles. Or a feisty 10-year-old child. I'd offer up my husband a la Andrea, but I don't think he could handle you.
What's the diff?
Fair enough.
But, I could trade you Sophie for a signature!
In return I would pledge the undying allegience of myself and my two cats in the event that you were to run for the position of Mayor of Detroit.
I will also send you a glow-in-the-dark Bart Simpson skeleton and three seeds from my Crocosmia Lucifer.
Have all the pictures been finalized? Any room for a kilt-clad couple of leathermen?
Way to bring a gun to a knife fight, Andrea-Pandrea...
\wanders off, grousing
I would offer a naked photo of myself but I actually want the book. I am afraid that a photo of me naked would certainly kill the deal.
The bouquet could then be displayed someplace close to where you hover and remind you of pheromones and sweetly rumpled sheets.
Andrea: Since I have a live-in chef and a couple of feline shit machines, your first two offers would be redundant, as would be the crockpot full of vomitous bilge (I occasionally try to cook, when Jess has a day off). The fuzzily shackled husband, on the other hand, is still in the running.
Sharon: I'm sure grandma's chili sauce would be a treat, if I hadn't lost my sense of taste during my last hospitalization. Unfortunately, unless and until it returns, condiments do nothing but mess up the plate. What else you got?
Heather: I've got a fruitcake sister of my own. One per family is quite sufficient. The crapmobile, however, might be of interest. Will it work as ammo in a cat shit volcano?
Penny: Having misspent ten years of my life as a Louisiana resident, the books were probably "borrowed" by "friends" who were too cheap to buy their own copies. As for bad poetry and unfinished articles, what is there about "I'm a writer" you don't understand? A second-hand ten-year-old might be useful for chasing nine-year-olds away from my yard, though. I'll put him on the 'pending' list, along with Andrea's used husband.
Shannon: See preceding sentence.
Like Sandy, I've got nothing. I'd be willing to steal something though. What would you like?
April: A definite maybe.
Lainie: You want me to autograph Sophie?
Michael Kitteh: As to the mayoralty of Detroit, if nominated, I will not run...if elected, I will not serve. Detroit: feh! However, glow in the dark skeletons, especially of Bart Simpson, are a secret fetish of mine, but I'd rather have seeds for cannibus indica than Crocosmia Lucifer, lovely though they may be.
Panties, my friend: I've got undying admiration out the yin-yang *yawn*...Handmade comic books, on the other hand, are in somewhat short supply Chez Dame. Another definite maybe. P.S. I don't care for grousing...or pheasanting, either.
I wonder how many stamps I'll need to paste on his ass.
Regards,
Doyle I <~~~~~
Selene: Good title. Tell me more.
Nick: I don't understand how a guitar pick would help me escape the Law, but flashing a naked picture of you might scare them off. Definitely worth thinking about.
Sandy: You've already earned at least 50% of a book by your loyal pimping and stalking. The other half will surely accrue shortly.
Sharon: Pheromones and rumpled sheets!? I'd have to consult my cardiologist before accepting an offer that exciting.
Crap.
I will have to find out what a person can only buy in the Ozarks that Ruth might want.
Errr . . . partial list, right? . . . umm . . . not that I care. Heh heh heh.
Dame Ruth: I had no idea you'd spent so much time in Louisiana. Where can we find the stories of your exploits?
And of course, I fully realize you are a writer (and a damned fine one, at that!), hence the offer. I'm sure someone with your skills could turn my trash into treasure.
As for my snotty comment about being a writer, I didn't mean to imply that I am any more skilled than anyone else in stringing words together. What I did mean was that every writer has half a ton of scraps of poems, ideas, articles, books, journals and grocery lists lying around, and I'm no different in that respect. I feel sorry for whoever has to go through my stuff after I go to the Big Recycling Bin in the Sky....they'll be reading garbage for years!
I would offer my husband as he is a great cook, funny as hell and adorable, but I have only been married to him for 3 months so the honeymoon is still on.
Oh, Bill and I are rockhounds/jewelry makers/lapidaryists. How about one of these? Basket of stone eggs? Geodes? Filled with crystals or solid agate? Pendant fossil set in sterling?
Any of these things can be yours. I will send you an autograph too. ;o) Never know, it might be valuable some day
Rather than approaching the Dame, allow me to make my offer to the person who actually receives her book.
If you receive Dame's lovely book, I'll offer you the same deal*-- Bart Simpson glow-in-the-dark skeleton, 2* votes for Mayor of Detroit, and a few seeds from my crocosmia lucifer.
* = ALMOST the same deal. I'm not gonna short-change the Dame.
I have nothing else to offer but your own private drummer boy.