I have so many reasons for writing a second volume of Ginger's quotes. The first installment was extremely popular, especially in Brazil for some reason. Perhaps lightning will strike twice. Brazilian lightning. Another reason is that Ginger herself has again been insisting that I put more of her quotes on the blog. "You should at least do one once a month." she told me last night. I didn't realize it had been a month since I did the first one. The time we've lived together has flown by like some sort of flying beast that flies really fast, so a month seems like an eye-blink to me. Yet another reason: Little YaYa (featured in The Buttnerd Files, Vol. 1) has finished Pre-Kindergarten, so instead of boarding the bus a few minutes ago she has instead been pestering me to use the computer. Much like her mom, ridiculous stuff comes out nearly every time she opens her mouth, so it's quite distracting. But plucking out Ginger material from my ever-growing file and commenting on it is easy to do, even while distracted by a little butthead who insists that only pirates (and not cowboys) wear hats.
Wow, okay, so that's three good reasons to write this, and now that I'm done crafting what may be my longest opening paragraph to date, I'll start sharing the quotes. I don't remember the context of the conversation we were having, but at some point in time Ginger said:
I think you have to have arms and legs to exist.
If I'm remembering it correctly, she said that to me in that tone that implied that I was an idiot for not knowing that, before realizing what she had said. According to this theory, snakes don't exist. For that matter, most animals don't exist since most of them have four or more legs and no arms. Hell, Lieutenant Dan doesn't exist. Rewatch Forrest Gump with the idea that Lieutenant Dan is a figment of Forrest's imagination. That makes it a whole different movie. Now, watch CSI: NY with the idea that Gary Sinise doesn't exist. Just kidding! Nobody watches CSI: NY for any reason.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I'd have been born in 1894 instead of 1984. Most likely I would have pursued a career in Vaudeville, since I wouldn't have the means to make internet videos. Maybe Ginger and I could have had a stage career together. She would have been the Gracie Allen to my George Burns. Burns often attributed their early success to Gracie, whom he played straight man to while she got the laughs with her zany responses. Without even trying (or even thinking about it) Ginger often makes me laugh with her answers to my questions, such as the time we were talking about pies, and this exchange went down:
Baxter: Did you ever have rhubarb pie?
Ginger: What's in it?
There was a pause. I refused to answer, choosing to make a face instead. That's where the Vaudeville audience would have been ROFLMAOing. There was no Vaudeville audience in our bedroom that day, however.
If we had been alive in those days when jazz was 'the devil's music' and hobos wore suits, we probably would have had an icebox. Last Summer, we had taken to calling our refrigerator/freezer the icebox. Of the two of us, though, she was the only one that ever conversed with the appliance, including angrily saying to it:
You're the only icebox that doesn't stay open! There! I'll put a waffle in between your crack!
I have to hand it to her, putting a waffle in the icebox's crack was a quick-thinking solution when the freezer door kept closing by itself (the floor of the kitchen may have been slanted, or the apartment may have been haunted). I can't knock her for the solution, but I can laugh and laugh at the fact that she talks to inanimate objects as often as she does. Usually the word 'fucker' is involved.
Alright, I'll admit now that YaYa has stopped bothering me, but I've been distracting myself reading about Gracie Allen and George Burns. (Did you know that Gracie ran for President as a publicity stunt in 1940 and ended up receiving 42,000 votes?) One thing I find sad about the couple is that George outlived Gracie by 32 years. Like most men, I hope to die before Ginger, and if I do outlive her I hope it's not by 32 years. Perhaps The Grimkeeper will come for us at the same time.
"Who's The Grimkeeper?" you ask? I was confused, too. While we were watching one of my favorite scenes from Breaking Bad, in which Walter proclaims to Skyler that he is "the one who knocks" when somebody opens their front door and gets shot, this conversation happened:
Ginger: He thinks he's The Grimkeeper.
Baxter: ...Who's The Grimkeeper?
Ginger: You know, the guy in the black hood with the long axe. Death.
Let that serve as a reminder: Life is short, so you've got to enjoy it while you can. You never know when that guy in the black hood will bring his long axe to send you to the land of the dead. Beware! Sometimes he's disguised as a guy with black head-stubble and a red goatee.