Elisson’s first mistake was giving me a set of keys to the place. His second mistake was going out with the boys for some Kreplach and leaving me enough time to swoop into the Casa d’Elisson to get a rare and highly prized interview with the most attractive and charming Mrs. Elisson a/k/a “She Who Must Be Obeyed,” a/k/a “SWMBO.”
The following is a transcript of the interview:
Jimbo: Good afternoon, SWMBO. I know we’ve met before, but I’m not sure you remember me. I think I might have been drunk at the time.
SWMBO: What would your having been drunk have to do with my being able to remember you?
Jimbo: Good point. I’m a little nervous here.
SWMBO: Anyway, I do remember you. It’s the great flamookin’ hair.
Jimbo: I think you mean great “farookin’” hair.
SWMBO: Oh, right. Sorry about that. So, what is it you want?
Jimbo: Well, Elisson mentioned that youse guys were going to be away, so he gave me a set of keys to his blog. I thought it would be a nice surprise if I were to post an exclusive interview of you.
SWMBO: Oh, yeah. His blog. Oy! It seems he spends the better part of his life putzing around with the damned thing. OK, I have a few minutes before I have to finish packing. Ask away. Oh, can I get you a little something – perhaps some 75-year old single malt? We have a shitload of it around here.
Jimbo: That’s very kind of you, but no thanks. I’m driving. What shall I call you? Do you prefer Mrs. Elisson, or SWMBO?
SWMBO: Please just call me “S.”
Jimbo: Great. So, let’s begin. Exactly how long have you been married to Elisson?
SWMBO: Damned if I know. Sometimes it seems like forever.
Jimbo: I’m surprised to hear you say that.
SWMBO: Surprised? Are you shitting me? Do you have any idea what it’s like being married to a guy who walks around the house with a colander on his head?
Jimbo: I can’t say that I do. But, I thought that kind of thing was part of his charm.
SWMBO: It was funny for the first three or four weeks, but now he never takes the damned thing off his head. He’s even taken to strutting around the house with the goddamned colander on his head and wearing nothing else but his boxer shorts. He strikes this silly muscleman pose in front of me and insists that I call him “Ahnuld from Zircon.”
Jimbo: That sounds a bit … strange.
SWMBO: It’s way beyond strange. It’s downright creepy.
Jimbo: Maybe he has a lot on his mind, and this is a form of stress relief. Besides, I assume that he restricts this kind of behavior to the privacy of your home.
SWMBO: I only wish! The other night we were at a fancy restaurant having dinner with friends, and in the middle of the salad course, he poked his middle finger through the napkin. Through the goddamned napkin, and treated our friends and everyone else in the restaurant to a twenty minute diatribe on “The Cultural Anthropology of Ass Wipage,” which, as he further demonstrated with the linen napkin, included the “bi-fold,” “quarter-fold” and “crumple” techniques. I was freakin’ mortified.
Jimbo: Oh, my. Did he actually drop trou in the restaurant?
SWMBO: He started to, but he stopped when I threatened to gouge his eyes out with the salad fork.
Jimbo: I can see how that could be a bit unsettling, but maybe it’s a sign of genius. We all have come to know that he is exceptionally smart. It must be interesting having the opportunity to chat with someone as smart as Elisson every day.
SWMBO: Interesting? Baloney! You ask him a simple question, such as “How would you like your eggs?” and he gives you a 100-word story. The son-of-a-bitch can’t even say “Good Night” without a story that contains 100 words – not 99 goddamned words – not 101 goddamned words, but exactly 100 goddamned words! One day last week, I totally freaked, and he told me to calm down – using exactly 100 goddamned words!
Jimbo: I had no idea...
SWMBO: You don’t know the half of it. When he’s not dropping his 100 word verbal shit bombs, he answers questions with silly little poems about turds. You know … “Turd in a punchbowl, zip, zap zop. Turd in a punchbowl, call a cop.” The man just ain’t right.
Jimbo: Perhaps you could suggest that he do things that are not so verbal, such as spending more time on his photography. He certainly takes beautiful photos.
SWMBO: Oh sure. You just THINK he takes great pictures, because he only posts the few that come out. What you never see are the zillions of photos that look like crap.
Jimbo: Really?
SWMBO: Oh yeah. I remember one weekend he spent all of Saturday and Sunday setting up lights, tripods and cameras around the house just to capture what he called, “The Perfect Shot.”
Jimbo: That sounds interesting.
SWMBO: Would you still think it’s so goddamned interesting if I were to tell you that he spent the entire weekend trying to take a photo of his own asshole? You damned sure didn’t see any of those photos, but I sure as hell did, because he had prints hanging up all over the house for days trying to decide which one best “captured his essence.”
Jimbo: Oh, my. This all comes as quite a shock to me. I thought you two were the perfect couple.
SWMBO: Perfect – Schmerfect! I’m in therapy, you know.
Jimbo: No, I did not know that. Perhaps it is best if I leave you to your packing. Thank you very much for your time, S.
SWMBO: You’re welcome. Hey, aren’t you the guy who lives in the House by the Parkway?
Jimbo: That’s right. Why do you ask?
SWMBO: Do you think I could rent a room, perhaps in your basement?
Jimbo: Sorry, S. I don’t think that would be a good idea.
SWMBO: Why? I wouldn’t be any trouble.
Jimbo: I have two colanders.
The following is a transcript of the interview:
Jimbo: Good afternoon, SWMBO. I know we’ve met before, but I’m not sure you remember me. I think I might have been drunk at the time.
SWMBO: What would your having been drunk have to do with my being able to remember you?
Jimbo: Good point. I’m a little nervous here.
SWMBO: Anyway, I do remember you. It’s the great flamookin’ hair.
Jimbo: I think you mean great “farookin’” hair.
SWMBO: Oh, right. Sorry about that. So, what is it you want?
Jimbo: Well, Elisson mentioned that youse guys were going to be away, so he gave me a set of keys to his blog. I thought it would be a nice surprise if I were to post an exclusive interview of you.
SWMBO: Oh, yeah. His blog. Oy! It seems he spends the better part of his life putzing around with the damned thing. OK, I have a few minutes before I have to finish packing. Ask away. Oh, can I get you a little something – perhaps some 75-year old single malt? We have a shitload of it around here.
Jimbo: That’s very kind of you, but no thanks. I’m driving. What shall I call you? Do you prefer Mrs. Elisson, or SWMBO?
SWMBO: Please just call me “S.”
Jimbo: Great. So, let’s begin. Exactly how long have you been married to Elisson?
SWMBO: Damned if I know. Sometimes it seems like forever.
Jimbo: I’m surprised to hear you say that.
SWMBO: Surprised? Are you shitting me? Do you have any idea what it’s like being married to a guy who walks around the house with a colander on his head?
Jimbo: I can’t say that I do. But, I thought that kind of thing was part of his charm.
SWMBO: It was funny for the first three or four weeks, but now he never takes the damned thing off his head. He’s even taken to strutting around the house with the goddamned colander on his head and wearing nothing else but his boxer shorts. He strikes this silly muscleman pose in front of me and insists that I call him “Ahnuld from Zircon.”
Jimbo: That sounds a bit … strange.
SWMBO: It’s way beyond strange. It’s downright creepy.
Jimbo: Maybe he has a lot on his mind, and this is a form of stress relief. Besides, I assume that he restricts this kind of behavior to the privacy of your home.
SWMBO: I only wish! The other night we were at a fancy restaurant having dinner with friends, and in the middle of the salad course, he poked his middle finger through the napkin. Through the goddamned napkin, and treated our friends and everyone else in the restaurant to a twenty minute diatribe on “The Cultural Anthropology of Ass Wipage,” which, as he further demonstrated with the linen napkin, included the “bi-fold,” “quarter-fold” and “crumple” techniques. I was freakin’ mortified.
Jimbo: Oh, my. Did he actually drop trou in the restaurant?
SWMBO: He started to, but he stopped when I threatened to gouge his eyes out with the salad fork.
Jimbo: I can see how that could be a bit unsettling, but maybe it’s a sign of genius. We all have come to know that he is exceptionally smart. It must be interesting having the opportunity to chat with someone as smart as Elisson every day.
SWMBO: Interesting? Baloney! You ask him a simple question, such as “How would you like your eggs?” and he gives you a 100-word story. The son-of-a-bitch can’t even say “Good Night” without a story that contains 100 words – not 99 goddamned words – not 101 goddamned words, but exactly 100 goddamned words! One day last week, I totally freaked, and he told me to calm down – using exactly 100 goddamned words!
Jimbo: I had no idea...
SWMBO: You don’t know the half of it. When he’s not dropping his 100 word verbal shit bombs, he answers questions with silly little poems about turds. You know … “Turd in a punchbowl, zip, zap zop. Turd in a punchbowl, call a cop.” The man just ain’t right.
Jimbo: Perhaps you could suggest that he do things that are not so verbal, such as spending more time on his photography. He certainly takes beautiful photos.
SWMBO: Oh sure. You just THINK he takes great pictures, because he only posts the few that come out. What you never see are the zillions of photos that look like crap.
Jimbo: Really?
SWMBO: Oh yeah. I remember one weekend he spent all of Saturday and Sunday setting up lights, tripods and cameras around the house just to capture what he called, “The Perfect Shot.”
Jimbo: That sounds interesting.
SWMBO: Would you still think it’s so goddamned interesting if I were to tell you that he spent the entire weekend trying to take a photo of his own asshole? You damned sure didn’t see any of those photos, but I sure as hell did, because he had prints hanging up all over the house for days trying to decide which one best “captured his essence.”
Jimbo: Oh, my. This all comes as quite a shock to me. I thought you two were the perfect couple.
SWMBO: Perfect – Schmerfect! I’m in therapy, you know.
Jimbo: No, I did not know that. Perhaps it is best if I leave you to your packing. Thank you very much for your time, S.
SWMBO: You’re welcome. Hey, aren’t you the guy who lives in the House by the Parkway?
Jimbo: That’s right. Why do you ask?
SWMBO: Do you think I could rent a room, perhaps in your basement?
Jimbo: Sorry, S. I don’t think that would be a good idea.
SWMBO: Why? I wouldn’t be any trouble.
Jimbo: I have two colanders.
SWMBO: Get out. Now!
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