Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about the families (part one).

THE PROMPT: "The Finch-Martins were a popular, ___________ family until they met the ______________(s)"

Good evening fine people. It's that time of the month again. I'll spare you all some of the crude humor associated with that last sentence. I won't even whine about it. Y'all pretty much know how I feel about this silly game of non-blogging within a blog. But it's cool. I'll put on my big-boy pants and act like I'm concerned. Here we go.

The Dirtbombs were a popular, if not particularly proper, family. At least they were, until they met their new neighbors, The Floppositionists.

Ed and Grace Dirtbomb had the "new millenium" typical American family: Sure, they weren't the brightest, they didn't make the most money and they didn't have the greatest kids. But they all had heart, spirit, sense and perseverance. They were honest and well-intentioned; rough around the edges but supportive and dedicated. They were fighters, and the neighborhood folks took a natural liking to them.

The Floppositionists, who moved in recently just across the street from The Dirtbombs, seemed normal at first. They kept to themselves and were hard to get a read on. Their lawn was perfect...it seemed like they never had to mow it. Pleasantries were hard to exchange even in passing because there really wasn't any passing. Through the window The Dirtbombs could see the well-dressed couple move from vehicle to door and back again once in awhile. After a few weeks, Ed looked at Grace, who was always very sociable with the other neighbors, and asked, "Gracie, do you even know their names?"

Grace thought for a moment, cocked her head and said, "Ya know what? No...I really haven't had an opportunity to welcome them to our street." This seemed to puzzle her, until she realized their paths hadn't crossed yet. "I'd say hi to them," she said, "and I'd give them a chance. They're probably new to the area."

Ed was non-plussed. "Yeah, well, they kinda creep me out. They seem so secretive and stuff. And those cars...those freakin' hybrids! Who do they think they are movin' into our neighborhood with that? Aren't they afraid someone might steal them, or break in to their house? I mean, you can see the 60" tv right in their living room. What do they do? They're gone all day and then stay up all night. And I swear, if that dude stares blankly at me one more time when I wave hello to him, I'm gonna-"

"Honey, calm down!" Grace said, always Ed's voice of reason. "You're ranting again! The kids are gonna wonder...little Ndugu didn't eat for a week when he thought we were getting a divorce because you were so upset! It took all I could to convince him that you were really just hurt that The Festoons sold their house and that you weren't gonna see your buddy anymore, and that Arch still owed you $20 for that bet about the teaspoon of cinnamon."

"Yeah, well, I just don't get those Floppositionists," Ed said in a disappointed, hushed tone. "We'll see if they're at the Block Club meeting next month. And that bastard! Why'd ya have to remind me about Arch? Maybe I'll-" Ed's growling was again cut off by his voice of reason and the flipping of the calendar's pages.

Grace, relaxed as ever, turned to Ed and reminded him that the next meeting was on the first of the month...or the second day they'd be on their vacation. With The Festoons.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

It's not really related to the story, but it provided the inspiration for Ed's son's name. "I have a mission, I have a goal, that's why." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgodBXsTf6o

VITAL STATS:

Yup, justjessica1's at it again. She's got her ladyfriends over and it's a candle party. Damn. She needs to look at the Sabres' schedule before she plans these things. I swear, between her and her friends, they all sell different stuff. Jess has handbags and stuff like that, one's got candles, and one's got food. Can one of them sell beer and beef jerky? Cuz I'd be all about that party being hosted in our house. Eh, well, on the plus side, I get to make a meal out of dips and cheeses and crackers and pepperoni and beer, while Jess makes a few extra bucks on the side. That, my friends, is what we call a "win-win situation" in these parts.

That said, I'm a little afraid to go upstairs right now. Ya know how there's that smell of dust burning for a couple minutes after you turn on a space heater that's been sitting for a day or two unused? Well, whatever smells I'm smelling that have wafted down into the basement from the sacrifice of candles upstairs has totally usurped the space heater. And the one time I looked in on the happenings, there were a lot of different pieces of wax that had flames coming from them. This can't be good for the fabric in any home.

Jess' reminder yesterday that she was having a party tonight (what guy can actually claim to remember any of this stuff?) immediately prompted me to bust out the infamous Biz Markie non-lyric in this song...plus it's a fantastic excuse to post it. http://www.wat.tv/audio/03-boys-makin-with-the-freak-9vpr_2j7ez_.html Hope that link works...it's the imported version, so bear with the non-English at the beginning...damn shame it's not available on YouTube.

Speaking of all these girls selling all this different stuff, can we get a reality tv show about it? Hollywood TV execs, are ya feelin' me? "Chicks Sellin' Stuff Wars"? "Home Sales Parties"? We'll get the behind-the-scenes footage of all these girls setting up their parties and inviting all of the other different party hosts, and let all the action unfold. And can I play the supportive significant other, who helps a little with the party set-up, then retreats to his ManCave, only to resurface after the "party" has started to make himself a meal of their snacks and wine? I think I might be good at that role. Hollywood, I'm on line 1. And yes, I'll hold.

And that's my cue...the party has started clearing out and I'm ready to start hitting the snack trays again. Tomorrow I'll unveil part two of our little serial. Not that I had a plan in mind or anything. Cuz I didn't. I do my best work under pressure. Oh, and by "unveil", I mean "build off of the shit you just made up". So until then, have a great night and a greater tomorrow....peace out homies, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_X8i8zbCYQ