Candy Rant

"I killed a rat with a stick once."

Friday, March 23, 2007

Everybody Outta the Pool

Today is the final day of spring break week from the big obnoxious university. I'm in Phoenix with my fiance Scott, and this is my last visit. Because next time I come here, I won't be a visitor. I'll be moving in. This is the weirdest feeling in the world. I truly feel as though I'm in full jettison mode from one planet to another. More on that as the panic ripens.

The point right now is, the pool has been too damned cold to swim in all week. I've done my best. The water temperature, to be really comfortable and cool and refreshing and delicious is 86 degrees. On the hottest day this week that I tried, tried to get into the water, it was 70 degrees. But I desperately wanted to swim.

I stepped cautiously onto the first concrete step in the pool. This means that only my feet were in the water. At least they had been my feet 5 seconds before. Now they were frozen fish fillets turning vein-blue and pulsating like the penises of madmen. I don't know how those particular penises pulsate. I just wanted to say "the penises of madmen." It's been a dream of mine.

No big deal. I was still gutsy. I wanted to swim. Swimming would perhaps offset the 7 billion calories I'd taken in from the masterful cooking Scott does for the wretch that is me. The wretch who enters her own kitchen only to feed the cat but is quick to gobble up any scrumptious treat the fiance slaps on the table.

I was going to the next step down. Ready, ready...GO.

I did it. I was in up to the knees. My breathing was rapid and LaMaze-like. The penises of the madmen were flailing for life in the arctic acid bath. I started to hallucinate. I saw a legion of mutated fruit flies lined up on the edge of the pool. They were the size of cantaloupes and rubbing their hairy fly-paws together in grim mockery of me. I was freezing, freezing, freezing. I saw the spirit of Nell Carter step out from behind the poolhouse. "Get on in dat water, girlfriend! Don't you be no baby-ass!" I started to compliment her on her attractive muu-muu but just then my ovaries launched up from my pelvis and ricocheted off my brain-pan before they shot out of my nostrils and into the water, slicing through the yellow blow-up raft and leaving two puncture wounds that may as well have come from a Loch Nessian sea snake.

It occurred to me that the water was too cold.

Scott, brave guy that he is, decided to be a man and jump into the deep end. I have never heard the howl of a bludgeoned coyote, but the sound that seeped from his mouth must have been very close. We are still waiting for his testicles to return home. They sent a postcard from the high desert mountains where they landed. It said (they are fond of Pig Latin) "Uck-fay ou-yay, astard-bay!" I just love getting postcards.

18 Comments:

  • At 6:51 PM, Blogger Gail said…

    You people are nuts. Or are your nuts people?

     
  • At 7:55 PM, Blogger EB said…

    That was the. greatest. post. ever.

    My long-numb diss writing brain thanks you.

     
  • At 9:51 PM, Blogger prairie biker said…

    Scott,

    Should your nuts happen across my nuts somewhere,


    never mind. whatever I was gonna say, it was a bad idea.

     
  • At 9:51 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Indeed we are nuts. I can no longer deny it.

    EB, get dat damn diss done!

     
  • At 9:52 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Dang, PB! We done collided on the interweb!

     
  • At 9:55 PM, Anonymous Scott P said…

    I have no nuts. Just a postcard I can't understand.

     
  • At 7:29 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Don't worry, I found them. I was going to run a few lost and found ads around town. I was walking down Central the other day and the poor things were hobbling down the street on makeshift crutches. Because of the shape they were in I was afraid to pick them up so i trapped em in one of my dogs' scoop bags. If you can identify them you can claim them cause I really don't know have a place to keep em.

     
  • At 9:31 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Scott,

    Are you sure you'd even want some crippled, Pig-Latin speaking nuts at this point? They may do more harm than good.

    I hear that disco balls are the latest craze in prosthetic devices. Plus, they would really come in handy for your wedding reception! Just a thought. Talk to Candy about it.

    Futuresis

     
  • At 10:08 PM, Blogger Pixie said…

    This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

     
  • At 10:37 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Oops. Someone tried to out me. Back into the witness protection program I go...

     
  • At 10:33 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    stiffled laughter...and then, outright snorting. my office mates are wondering if I've just snucked my sinuses into my kidneys. They just don't understand the power that a good testicle image has over me.

    Perhaps Scott would like, as a replacement, one of the products on http://www.usatoday.com/tech/science/2005-10-09-ig-nobel-winners_x.htm. Perhaps there's something here Candy would like as well.

    CKnuckles

     
  • At 9:25 AM, Anonymous Tony from the Bronx said…

    Dear Candy,
    The loss of her fiance's testicles may well trouble any bride-to-be. Luckily Science and the Internet have demonstrated that a newly-married couple can achieve a perfectly satisfactory love-life without the complete assembly. So say your vows in a loud clear voice and keep smilin'.

     
  • At 11:39 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Tony, I just love science and the internet, don't you?

     
  • At 6:13 AM, Blogger Steve B said…

    Found you via Carin's Blog. Hilarious. I want to write like you when I grow up.

     
  • At 6:43 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Welcome, Steve! But make no mistake: There is not even a tiny hidden corner of me that is grown up. I'm a mental and emotional pygmie.

     
  • At 4:49 PM, Anonymous Scott P said…

    WE WANT CANDY!!!! WE WANT CANDY!!!!

     
  • At 7:35 PM, Anonymous chubbyknuckles said…

    Candy, it looks like the crowd is getting...um, hungry?

    We ain't getting in our Easter baskets what we find on this here blog. Gimme, gimme, gimme.

    CK

     
  • At 10:24 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    I done been rousted outta mah cave again.

     

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