Nothing I Can Do About it Now

July 10, 2007

Cristian wants you all to know he’s not nearly as feral as I make him sound, but all these stories are true.

Filed under: Uncategorized — dregina @ 10:50 am


This morning I carpooled to work with Cristian, and the last thing he said to me as he hopped out of the car was, “Ok, so I’ll cook tonight. Dinner at eight. See you then!”

Someone needs to do a study on sentences like that, on how they’re better than vitamins for overall health. 


I read the latest Finslippy post four times yesterday. Good night and good luck,  Minty Bear.



Cristian and I stopped for lunch at one point on our drive back from Wisconsin (which I want to write about but every time I start writing about what a great family I have my words dissolve into potentially cancer-causing saccharine mush  OH MY GOD I JUST SPELLED SACCHARINE RIGHT ON THE FIRST TRY! WAY TO GO BRAIN! KEEP IT UP AND WE JUST MIGHT FINISH THE TIMES SUNDAY CROSSWORD.)

Where was I? Oh, we stopped at this diner (called the Brass Rose, which um, sort of sounds like a name for a whorehouse, no?) in Oklahoma where we shared an order of Texas Toothpicks, because it had been 8 days since I had anything to eat that wasn’t either

A) Named after Texas


B) Shaped like Texas

and I was feeling the lack.

So. Who here thinks it’s a good idea to eat some breaded, deep-fried jalapeños right before getting into a compact car for, say eight hours? Anyone? Anyone? No one?

Well! You are all much smarter than either Cristian or myself. You can all probably already finish the Times Sunday crossword, and not only spell saccharine without help, but aspartame too.  

20 minutes after we got into the car, the farting began. People, we farted the whole way back to Austin. 8 hours of duet farting.  Never was the proverbial nowhere to run, nowhere to hide so literal. It did add some excitement to the drive, what with the shrieking and the panicked rolling down of windows every ten minutes, but really there is nothing good to say about the experience. Be Ye Not So Foolish. 

Oh, except that at hour 4, Cristian told me the funniest. story. ever. About a road trip he went on when he was 18 and even more prone to live like a hobo than he is now. You think I’m exagerating, but because he didn’t want to ask his parents for  money, ALL HE ATE FOR THREE WEEKS WERE COLD BEANS OUT OF A CAN.


I know, I know, I know. You’re feeling a little gaggy. I am too. 

Towards the end of week three, and I have no idea how he made it that long, Cristian got, as he put it, “the horrible shits,” and because he was on a road trip, the only places he could go were gas station bathrooms, where innocent strangers were forced to reap the rewards of his cold bean diet right along with him.

One man shouted, “Jesus Christ, you need a doctor!”

Another said, “OH MY GOD, that’s worse than my dog.”

A few went with the classic, “Did something die in here?”

But most just walked in, gasped, and ran back out. RAN BACK OUT. Grown men ran away. For a week of his life, from California to Nebraska, Cristian cleared bathrooms wherever he went. Few people can say that, few people would want to.



  1. I don’t think I can ever look at Cristian the same way again…

    Or a can of beans for that matter.

    Comment by Suzanne — July 11, 2007 @ 9:36 am

  2. So we’re at the cabin now with Charlie, who keeps insisting on peeing right by the barbeque pit (the one in the grass, not by the front door.) Was that were Fluppy went, too? And can you believe I want to know this information?

    It’s cause I think Charlie can definitely sense a recent canine presence.

    Comment by Joy — July 11, 2007 @ 12:53 pm

  3. She DID pee over there quite often. You are the Diane Fossey of pet dogs, Joy.

    Did you find the Texas Monthly I left for you?

    Comment by dregina — July 11, 2007 @ 1:04 pm

  4. yes! actually, i get it at home, too, so we’ll leave this copy here for future visitors to read, and realize texas ain’t so bad. except for the psycho nurses.

    Comment by Joy — July 12, 2007 @ 6:47 am

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: