Oh. I'm sorry. Have I been absent for a while? Turns out I was kidnapped by tranny secret agent space pirates AGAIN. If I never see another anal probe it'll be too soon.
Also, I had to put together a memorial service for R Man. Did I want to put on a memorial service? No. Did I pout like a little girl about it? Possibly. Still, our friend Gaye pointed out that "It's not all about you" which is still as patently untrue as the first time I heard that line, all those many years ago.
We had a deli cater, we had champagne and bourbon (R Man liked both,) all our friends dropped in and were all very supportive and sweet. Even Diane von Austinburg came back in town to help buck me up, which I most appreciated, since I needed plenty of bucking. I was dreading the whole thing right up until it started and then was immensely glad it was over once we were done. I got through it just fine, thank you ativan, and I even spoke a brief eulogy.
Most of the speech consisted of my not making eye contact with anyone who was crying, looked like they might cry, or even had moisture in their eye. Pretty much, I just looked at the cat. It was very much the same as any other public speaking I've had to do, just start at the beginning and blast on through to the end and don't think too much about what I'm saying.
I also included a firm caveat that there would be no chance for other mourners to speak. You know the bit that has sprung up recently at funerals for everyone to take a chance at "remembering" the departed by offering clumsy attempts at humor at the dead guy's expense so that the whole thing turns into a funereal roast? R Man hated those, so I nipped any idea of it in the bud. Afterwards, several guests thanked me, so yay for heavy handedly laying down rules.
Anyway, it wasn't awful, and afterwards we had a bunch of sandwiches left, although all the petite fours were long gone. Bastards.
So, I've been hanging around, refusing to shave or answer the phone and claiming to be going through a "rough patch." Actually I'm just lazy. Still to make up for being so slack in blogging, here's a humpy houseboy as a token of my apology.
That's not enough? OK here's another one, complete with MeeMaw's couch.
Oh, all right, here's that gay rugby guy.
I hope you're happy.