I’ve been trying to post this for almost 3 weeks … sigh …
Joan of Arc and John the Baptist stopped by today. They were on their way to visit Elvis over by the Bay of Blue Chickens, so were in the neighborhood. Instead of pulling up in their old Sunny, they’d rented a saloon from Arctic Car Hire, filled the boot with Seybrews, a couple of PETs of windowlene, a bottle of Beach House for me and a bourgeois for the grill.
On the way down, they’d stopped by the “Special Fresh Frozen Ice” place, hoping to load the eski, but all they had today was delo so, so the drinks weren’t chilled. No matter. They were wet.
The gang had been hoping to include Tony and David, but not knowing their real names (Paul and Larry, respectively), they got only puzzled looks when asking directions to the right lakaz.
Joan of Arc, the sweet ball of my friend Helmut, is married to an Angus and for short goes by Joan of Arc. John the Baptist is her half-brother, married to her half-sister on the other side, Mary Snow, which does not make her Mary Snow the Baptist because that’s his first name.
Elvis works for an Internet company named after nuts and lives with a twin called Silvie whose sister’s name is Silvia. They have a son dubbed Rolly, which is pronounce “Wally” and a daughter they called Paloma … emphasis on the ‘Pal’.
It was a lovely day, most enjoyable … lots of talk about fish, the weather, sex and the doings of everyone we know … right up to the time they started discussing politics. That stuff’s just confusing no matter where you are, but trying to explain Michele Bachmann took the conversation to a totally different level!
Ah … island life …
None of this story is true. All of it could be.
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 