itzdahomeboyz&grrlz (or… making obscure gestures with our hands is fun!)

Intermittently I like to gather together my friends from here and there in my life ~ workmates, playmates, bus friends, circle sisters ~ integrating all the aspects of my life ~ the sacred, silly, serendipitous and saucy (as my workmates tend to be).

Today is one of those days.

We go for pancakes. (again)

Not all of them know each other, so i bring paper nameplates, and we write our names on them to call each other. Porn star names that is.

And I do believe I have one of the best porn star names possible (following the Name of First Pet, Name of First Street Lived In convention):

Pussy Station.

We order our usual (Lunch Spanakopita and Hot Ball), me taking great care to ask in an accent for “Lunch Spanking and Hot Balls.” I’m sure nobody in the history of the Pancake Parlour has ever made such hilarious and ingenious innuendo before. I pride myself on such originality like that.


Nick savours his hot balls

Then we tear up small pieces of paper and everyone writes a question on them to put into the Dream Rainbow Beanie, then we all take turns to pull out the questions and everyone answers.

This is the Leonie Way Of Connecting People.

Or should I say, the Pussy Station Way of Connecting People.

The question is asked
“Whose Your Daddy?”

(Okay, okay, it was my question).

We all go around saying “My Dad’s name is Bob and he’s a train driver!” (like we are in Year 2)

We get to me and I say “Well, I’m actually named after my Dad!”

Ben (or should I say Rainbow Lagoon) quips “Your Dad’s name is PUSSY?!?!?”

(Ben also happens to create the funniest comics possible… his latest creation of “You Stink and I Don’t Volume 9” has me laughing into the wee hours. Good good GOOD fun!)

Another question is asked:

“What superpower do you have?”

It becomes a discussion on Heroes (which I have no idea about, too gory for this delicate petal).
Nimpho Nads decides she wants the superpower of the Heroes dude who can talk to ATMs.

Deciding electronic power could be useful, I think I may just want to have the Superpower of being able to charge my Ipod. (What is with that? Always out of power!)

We decide to have a homegirrl&boyz portrait taken afterwards, balancing it on a high chair. A cutey patootie Swede walks by and offers to take it for us. In exchange, I proclaim him my New Best Friend, and have a Arm-Stretched-Out-Classy-Self-Portrait with him. Only later do I realise he could be my brother. Where are you, oh Swede brothafromanothermotha?

After all that, I really could have gone for a leisurely horse ride on the carousel as per my usual habit. They were having a rest and a bath though.

Maybe next time…

May silliness rupture you clean open and sparkling,
Love,
Pussy.