Pablo’s “Missed Connection” Ad for the International Gnome Club Newsletter

As some of you may recall, I suffer from a serious disorder that causes me to produce brilliant works on art in my sleep while completely unconscious. This morning I woke up with an average level hangover and a pile of drool on my pillow.

Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Wrong.

Look who I woke up next to! Okay, so I woke up next to a drawing on a piece of paper of her, not the real life tangible version of her. Irregardlessly, isn’t is beautiful? She’s ridding a white rabbit just like me! We have so much in common already that I feel that she already understands me and I don’t even know her name. Sure, there may be some racial tension once our families meet. She’s clearly a green-skinned alien of some sort and I’m clearly a stubby little garden gnome. But I am a romantic and I believe true love can overcome all obstacles…even unreasonable ones such as these.

I am willing to fight to the death against those weird flying balloon shaped thingies with glowing eyes just to be with her. Now come the hard part….finding out who she is and where she is. Hmm. Surely, she must exist outside of my realm of unconsciousness. This feels too real to be unreal.

I’ve put together one of those “missed connections” ads for the International Gnome Club Newsletter in the off chance that we actually did pass each other in the conscious world and make a real connection. Here’s what I got so far….what do you think?

“You: A flat piece of paper depicting a beautiful alien riding a bunny .

Me: The lovestruck gnome on a bunny you woke up next to this morning. 

Your flowing crimson hair captivates me and makes me wonder if the carpet matches the drapes. We are soul mates. Our bunnies are soul mates.

I propose we meet on Easter Sunday. Then I propose marriage to you. Then I propose coloring some Easter eggs and hiding them in my backyard for our honeymoon.  

Surely, you feel the strength of our connection. And although I am posting this in the ‘Missed Connections’ section of the newsletter, I sure hope I haven’t missed you forever. I will be shamelessly drooling over and masturbating to your picture day and night until Easter Sunday.

True Love Always and Forever,

Pablo The Gnome”

Car washes, massage parlors, and Klonopin

Suddenly, there’s this really hot girl gnome hanging around here. I don’t know who she is or where she came from, but I want her. She seems a little bitchy, but I’m feeling up for a challenge. My fellow gnommates have always accused me of being a lazy son-of-a-bitch, but suddenly I feel this spring in my step.

That also may have something to do with the bottle of Klonopin I found in a medicine cabinet that one night when the sliding glass door was left open. Taking one of those per hour is reasonable, right?

Irregardlessly, I need to step up my game before I introduce myself to this mystery goddess. I need a shave. I need a job. And I need a better personality. I shaved yesterday, so today was my day to find a job.

I had two job interviews today, one was at the car wash, which is conveniently located next to The Gnome Abode. I’ll admit, it was a little intimidating walking into the shop. There was a huge gnome with tattoos all over his shaved head and a lot of the gnomes spoke some language that I couldn’t understand. The tattooed gnome asked me if I could hold a hose. I said yes. Then he asked me if I’d ever been arrested for stealing money. I said no. Then he said he’d call me and that was it. I don’t even think I gave him my phone number. But I’m still trying to stay optimistic.

My second interview was at a massage parlor that just opened up on the other side of the car wash. I figured they would be hiring since they just turned on their neon green flashing signs a couple days ago. A darling little Chinese gnome lady said hello and offered me a masseuse job on the spot. She didn’t even ask me any questions or ask for my resume. That’s a good thing because I have no prior work experience on my resume. It’s actually just some doodles on a sheet of paper with my name and contact information. I didn’t want to seem to desperate, so I told the parlor owner that I was definitely interested, but weighing my options, and that I would get back to her by the end of the week.

Could I really make a living as a professional gnome masseuse? I’ve never really touched anyone before, but I guess that’s not a prerequesite. The car wash guys seemed cool, but I’m pretty sure I heard snickering in the backroom as I walked out. I need a positive work environment, so I’m not sure if that’s the place for me.

To play it cool, I think I’ll call back the massage parlor tomorrow. I don’t even know it’s called because it doesn’t even have a sign out front! Is that shady? Whatever. I like shady. And income is income. If I can show the hot new girl gnome that I have a paycheck coming twice a month to take her out for a wine, dine, and 69, then surely she’ll be my soul mate for at least a night or two.

Your neighborhood potential masseuse in training,

Maurice The Gnome

I am the victim of a Voodoo spell. And I am drunk.

Apparently that little ho, Roxy, is trying to teach herself the art of Voodoo so she can cast some crazy love spell and win the affection of some weird new band that’s going on tour. They’re called Mennonite Coke Workshop or something.

How do I know so much about her evil little scheme? Well I just happened to walk by her corner of the yard and this book was literally lying right out in the open. My curiosity got the best of me. There’s some really messed up stuff in there! Just my luck, Roxy happened to be hopping over the fence (most likely coming back from another of her “escapades”) and caught me reading her Voodoo book.

The next thing I know, I’m standing next to a Voodoo doll that looked strangely like me. The next thing I remember after that was sitting at a brewery in MIchigan called Hop Cat. Apparently, Roxy tried to mix up some “revenge brew” from the ingredients listed in her book. But I guess she fucked up because here we are drinking brews in a brewery. Not that’ I’m complaining…

While Roxy was busy studying her book to fix her brew spell, I ended up having time to give six brews a try. Initially, I was disappointed because there were no samplers offered. Point down. I tried to distract myself with the beer posters on the ceiling, eclectic art on the walls, and sun-catchers in the windows.

http://hopcat.com/main/BeerList.aspx

  1. My first brew was the Heavenly Hedgehog, a bourbon barrel aged strong ale at 9.1% alcohol. This had the strongest bourbon flavor and smell I’d ever encountered, which is a positive comment. It had a very smooth taste and I will definitely be drinking this again. 
  2. Roggen Bitch was brew number two, coming in at 4.9% alcohol. I’ll be honest, I got it because of the cool name. It was pretty standard but drinkable. It was smooth bud didn’t have any significant spice. 
  3. Brew #3 was Solitude by Vivant Brewing. It was 6% brown ale that was bland and needed more spice. However, it was very drinkable at this mid-stage of afternoon drinking. 
  4. Hopasaur by Hop Cat was brew #4. Even though it was 8.7% alcohol, it was so goddamn hopping that I couldn’t even take two sips. Sad, I know. The citrus smell was alright, but keep it away from my taste buds. 
  5. Brew #5 was Brainless on Cherries by Epic in Salt Lake City. It was 10% alcohol and very sweet. The slight bitterness didn’t overpower the sweetness, much to my liking. It didn’t taste too alcoholic but every other gnome at the bar scoffed at me for drinking such a girly drink. 
  6. I wrapped up my round of brews with Raisin Apollo from Shorts Brewery. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too hoppy and didn’t taste that much like raisins. Thank god. I am terrified of both those things. It had a bitter aftertaste, which might be some of the raisins coming through. Which means I’ll likely have nightmares tonight. 

Just as I was about to order my 7th beer, Roxy stuck that little blue doll in my face again and suddenly we were back in the Gnome Abode. Once I sober up, I need to go talk to talk to her and figure out what the hell just happened.

Light as a feather, stiff as a board,

Kamikaze The Gnome

Should St. Bastille Day adopt a pet?

It gets a little lonely around here sometimes. All these gnomes are annoying. My new best friend, GnomeCow, abandoned me for a month to go visit his family. He is bi-species and half cow, so that’s why I can get along with him. Gnomeplaya is neglectful and also a girl, which means she has girl cooties.

So I started thinking today that I need a pet. My first thought was a horse. But not just any horse. A horse that I could paint in whacked out colors and ride around town to freak people out. Of course, the paint would be animal safe. What kind of lizard do you take me for?!? I did some price comparisons and holy crap, horses are expensive. Not to mention, I haven’t been able to locate any animal-safe paint online. If any distributors are hiding out there, throw me a bone, will ya?

So my second thought was a dog. I used to be disgusted by dogs ever since that German Shepard had her way with me back in college and never bothered to call the next day. Completely unrelated, I just signed up for a whitewater kayaking class. The first eight weeks take place in a pool, which sure…sounds pretty freaking lame. But it’s training so when I get out there on the class 5 rapids, I don’t forget how to roll and get drowned under a boulder. Thanks to the latest REI catalog that Gnomeplaya left lying on the kitchen table, I have learned that some dogs like to kayak too. Perhaps this is a perfect match! But now I’m wondering if I’m responsible enough to take care of a dog when we’re not kayaking together. I’m selfish, pretentious, and don’t give a shit about anyone but myself. Perhaps I need to work my way up to dog ownership. I hear those buggas croak if they don’t get to eat and stuff.

So my last thought on this matter today was perhaps a turtle or a tortoise. Who knows what the difference is anyway? I thought these would be super low maintenance, but the more I read about them the more I’m thinking otherwise. First of all these there’s some kind of media propaganda about pet turtles causing Salmonella. Well I don’t plan on eating the pet turtle….I don’t know, perhaps more research is required on this matter. An About.com article I read used the words “long term commitment”, “stressed”, and “prone to disease”.

Now I don’t know what to think. Does anyone out there on the Interweb know of any pets that would require absolutely nothing from me but yet give me everything I want? Suggestions welcome.

Distressed and lonesome,

St. Bastille Day The Lizard

From the Shoreline to the Shitpipe: Tabitha’s First Night in The Gnome Abode

I can’t believe how unkempt these flower beds are. There’s not even any fresh vegetables in growing in the garden. They call this place The Gnome Abode. More like Section 8 housing. Ew.

I am and will always be a California girl at heart. Daddy gave me this nice little house on the shore when I turned eighteen. I’ve excelled at being a professional socialite and party planner for the past thirteen years. I’ve dabbled in songwriting, modeling, and was recently featured in a Hollywood blockbuster movie.

Last Saturday afternoon, I was lounging on a nearby beach sipping a mimosa and sunning myself. Some dirty hippy wearing nasty hiking boots stepped on the edge of my towel, which completely disrupted my moment of zen. He invited himself to sit on that tainted edge of the towel and asked me for directions to the nearest port-a-potty.

I told him that I had no idea what a port-a-potty even was. For some reason, that fact still didn’t make him leave. He introduced himself as Sheldon and explained that he was a travel writer who was exploring the area and meeting people along the way. How weird. Who does that?

The conversation was gruelingly dull until he mentioned that he lived with the one and only Jerry, King of the Gnomes. Suddenly, my ears perked up and I listed to nasty ass Sheldon talk about the other gnomes under Jerry’s rule and how lonely Jerry seemed to be all alone at the top.

The next thing I know, I was sitting in the window seat on a plane next to Sheldon headed back to this mysterious place called The Gnome Abode. Daddy always encouraged me to climb the ladder of high society, but I hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.

Sheldon is the perfect kind of gnome to use to get what I want. He’s so naive and trusting. However, I feel that Jerry is my key to reining over these peasants and fulfilling my destiny of Queen of Gnomeland. I just need to get Jerry to marry me…that’s all.

I haven’t met Jerry yet, though I’m told he’s here somewhere. The other gnomes here seem petty, small-minded, and noisy. I guess there’s only one other girl here. I haven’t met her either, but rumor has it that she’s the “Community Bicycle”. Apparently everyone  gets a ride. Ew.

 

Anyway, I’m going to try to find a way though the sliding glass door and some clean sheets and pillows to get some sleep where civilized debutante like me belong. There is no way I’m sleeping out in the grass with those peasants.

 

Tomorrow I will look into where the nearest urgent care clinic. I’m sure I need a bunch of shots to avoid catching these gnomes’ gross diseases.

Disgusted but cautiously optimistic,

Tabitha The Gnome