Little Bongs and Altars Everywhere: Guest Post by Mary Louise Parker

Guest Post by Mary Louise Parker:

Hi! Deb asked me to guest post for her today because she has unseemly "bruises" on her neck from the weekend and it is too hot for her to wear a scarf one more day to cover her shame. To heal, she is currently soaking in Arnica and Gin.

Deb and I have been dirty south friends for a loooong time. We pledged the same sorority and then were kicked out together for something that allegedly happened inside the Greek Daze Trojan horse float. Good times.

Deb told me I could share with you some of the little secrets from our BFF scrapbook which we would totally make if we wanted to sit around for hours with stickers and acid-free glue. Which we don't. Because acid brings the awesome and shouldn't be left out of the party. And scrapping seems like a waste of a perfectly good exacto-knife if you ask me.

Anyway, this is Deb's favorite couch at my house. She loves to sit with me and talk and talk. Sometimes I cornrow her hair, or we write Caudate sonnets satirizing post-post-modern society. Damn, she's good with rhymes! She also helps me yell at my assistant to bring us Zapps chips and occasionally some Roundup. Plants grow like weeds in the southern humidity!

Deb has helped me out of many of fumble, that's for shizzle. She's the go-to girl in a crisis. She has a level head, keeps bail money in her DD-cups, and doesn't blink if she has to do the nitty-gritty work, like washing the iron skillet or disposing of a dead body. And she's a tiger with power tools! Has she told you about the time the chainsaw got wedged in the hip bone of an Armenian? I couldn't move it. I was like: No fucking way. And she was like: No worries. Go get me a Double Frap Carmelita Venti with Soy and Splenda. By the time I was back from Starbucks, she had not only fixed the problem but also neatly Gladlocked the bits and pieces and tied the bags to hams, all ready ready to go to the Everglades. But then she was all like: Fuck Starbucks. We've got to take that back and buy locally, MLP. And I was like: Shit. I've already finished mine. **slurp** Deb's all about protecting the community like that. An inspiration, really!

"Deb, quickly, I have 30 seconds, what is capital of Crete? Is it A) Hershey; B) Lesbos; C) Heigelgefukenlosten or D) Funkytown? I need your final answer."

This is my bathroom, where we have our spa slumber parties, just like all girls do. Mud masks, weed wraps, water games, jacuzzi full release parties---our girltime little slice of Kohler heaven.

This was my friend before I found Deb, but she's been kicked to the curb. Good riddance!! Deb hates her. Deb calls her Ditchweed Weave Wanda, which is kind of mean, but I get it.

"This is better than 'MILF Weed.' We shall call it 'MILF On the Rocks.'"

But my all time favorite thing to do with Deb is to get our groceries on and sling up some Sunday soul food--collards, black-eyed peas, sweet cornbread, Coca-Cola ham, and her favorite: fried green tomatoes. And for dessert, Red Velvet cake. Speaking of ditchweed, did you know that ditchweed is the Deep South secret ingredient in that cake--it's what puts the velvet in the Red Velvet! The red in Red Velvet is red dye #2. Red dye #2 was banned in the 70s but you can still get it bootleg in Alabama and Mississippi made the original, natural way: from Amaranth coal tar. Yummy!

If you need either secret ingredient, let Deb know and she'll take care of you. She won't leave a friend hanging. That's why she's my BFF. That, and the bail money in her bra. A friend in need is a friend indeed! I should really go over and help her now with her hickey/Arnica/gin problem. I could bring her more of each!