Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The Hiatus Heads North

We had something of a romantic interlude yesterday, although I want all the world to know that I maintained my chastity even against the relentless persistence of the lovely Dulcinea, the Lady of the Lake.

She came at me with everything she had, including a barrage of cleavage shots, the swiveling of her lower extremities in such a way as to evoke the Dance of the Seven Veils, and she even threatened a rug act, truly a devious means of sashaying in such a way as to allure, entice, and otherwise possess. But you will recall that I said something like, "Not so fast, sister! Not until we're legal!"

It must seem to you like I have rugged discipline to resist such a thing, and that's true. Going back a few months, looking back, it's really hard to believe Garrett Al thought he had a chance with me. But of course his means of allurement is to thrust it out there and bulldoze full steam ahead. It may work at the rest stop and with guys who etch their schedule on the walls of restrooms on lonely country back roads. But there's no way it works with me. I have an iron will, which, admittedly was more sorely tested by Dulcinea's charms than Geritol's charmless act.

Whether I will ever actually marry the Lady of the Lake, it's doubtful. Because as you will also recall, the relations I had with her were all in my Mind's Eye. It was a brief romp in the reverie meant only to give me fortitude against the very real menace of [an unnamed party.]

As to room widening throughout the house, it seems that I can fairly safely declare victory over [an unnamed party.] There's only dribs and drabs of pink slime and blob excrescence at the window sashes and door cracks, all on the north side.

I looked out the window -- seeking to see only the yard, the tree, and the school in the distance, wanting to maintain my posture of strict ignoring of [an unnamed party.] It was weird. There seems to be nothing out there, although looking across the road I can see the fence is caved in, sloped to the north, and beyond that there is a wide burnt pathway across the field. Maybe a mile or just under a mile away, I can see a weird pink/orange glowing in the sky, emanating from below, pulsating. Perhaps destroying a few houses with fire. I'll have to wait for the news.

What a great relief it is. And there in the corner, by the door, right where [an unnamed party] made its last stand, are my weapons. Sacred swords, knives, guns, my gnarly club with the railroad spikes. Seeming to be no worse for the wear, except there's some slime that's seeped into the cracks. I'll probably have to roast them over an open fire to make sure all the residue is utterly, certainly, and finally dead. Maybe one of the local homes being destroyed can spare me a few embers. Just kidding there. Of course I hope those folks are able to rebuild with a minimum of hassle.

Anyway, my great victory calls for a song. I'll see if I can find my 45 of this. Ahh, here it is.

It's been a long hard struggle but my [unnamed party] is finally over, headed north where evil belongs ... So with this final victory (for me) and defeat (for it), let us listen to this record together.

Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Maureen McGovern:

There's got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
Let's keep on lookin' for the light...

[Song by All Kasha and Joel Hirshhorn]

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