Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #224

Left to right…

Mortified Maureen: “I cannot believe that you made me pee in the men’s bathroom. It was insulting and degrading and I’m never coming back here. And stop walking so fast! Just because you have legs longer than the Empire State Building doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to suffer.”

Jaunty John: “Oh, quit your gripin’. You had to pee, I found you a place to pee. I can’t help it if the ladies’ room was out of order. How was I supposed to know that Joan Crawford had just tried to flush the earnings report for Pepsi?”

Voided Vicar: “What’s that you’re saying about moaning crawfish?”

Dishing Driver: “You’d think she’d be more upset about that ugly hat she’s wearing instead of where she had to squat.”

Windshield Wiper: “And just how in the hell do they expect my little ass to clean this whole piece of glass?”

Carriage return, left to right, redux.

Maureen: “I get the sense that you don’t respect me. And why does this jacket smell like gin and regret?”

John: “Oh, quit your snipin’. You were cold and wanted a jacket, I found you a jacket. I can’t help it if the jacket belonged to Tallulah Bankhead. And as for respect, you don’t have a penis, so why are you expecting that from me?””

Vicar: “Did someone say Venus? Is it in the sky right now? Is it night? I never know anymore.”

Driver: “I have a penis. And the image of the Empire State Building inspires me in a way that I don’t fully understand.”

Wiper: “Am I the only one who understands how completely wrong everything is in this scene?”

Carriage return, rinse and repeat.

Maureen: “I’m tired of not being validated, John. Just because you make my toes curl doesn’t mean I’m always going to click like on your blog. So to speak.”

John: “Well, I’m tired of you expecting validation. I’m an overrated movie star and I can do whatever I want until social media is invented. And there are plenty of other toes I can curl.”

Vicar: “Why are we talking about valleys now? What happened to Venus? Are we still looking for her?”

Driver: “I just realized that I don’t want a valley or a Venus. Hmm. No wonder my mother never talks to me about wanting grandchildren. Mommas always know.”

Wiper: “I’m swiping left on all of this mess.”

Writer: “That’s the most honest line of dialogue I’ve scribbled today. Thank you, Wiper Buddy.”

Wiper: “My pleasure. Say, do you have any WD-40 handy? My gears are a little constipated. They smell like rust and regret. And Tallulah.”


Previously published on “Crusty Pie”, modified considerably for this post.


19 replies »

      • Oddly enough this past week has shown a few bloggers (me among them) offering ‘less than G or PG’ commentary. I never gave a thought to the ‘Content Police’. Thanks for the heads up, man! Drifting into speculation about unusual ways of floating one’s boat can be tricky… O_o

        Liked by 2 people

        • I was somewhat joking with the content warning, but you’re right, we have to keep on our toes. Sadly, it’s not so much WordPress folks monitoring us, on their own, that we have to worry about. It’s more the disgruntled bloggers out there who simply don’t like your content and will report you, trying to get you labeled as “adult” just to restrict access to your blog. It’s happened to a few friends of mine. Luckily, in both cases my friends got the restriction removed, but it was a pain in the wazoo getting it fixed…

          Liked by 1 person

  1. Hold me closer, tiny wiper, count the headlights on the highway.
    Say, I wonder if automakers ever explained their tiny wipers, or why half a windshield was just as good as a full windshield? Oh the questions that plague my mind. Like, why is Winston Churchill talking to John Wayne? And why does Maureen have a Tribble on her head?
    We may never know.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Naturally, you’ve won my heart with the Elton reference. Not that you didn’t have it already.

      I don’t understand windshield-wiper coverage, either. On my beloved RAV4, there’s one critical spot that the wipers simply do not reach. You’d think somebody could have figured this out by now.

      Perhaps Winston is inquiring if John has seen his Tribble? And Driver/Father Mulcahy is wondering if anyone will ever ask to see HIS Tribble…

      Liked by 2 people

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