One Hell Of A Party

party fails - The Strangest of Nights
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I took one look at this picture, and said “I really, really wish I got invited to that kind of party. ”

I mean seriously. Drag queens. Bunny suiters. And a freaking OOMPA LOOMPA.

How come I never end up at parties that cool? Oh right, because I’m a mentally ill recluse. Oh well.

Our dragtress in distress is sporting what is known, in certain fetish porn circles, as a GUNT. It’s a gut so large that, to some, it appears to be a cunt. Gut plus cunt plus the magic of portmanteau… GUNT.

Myself, I think it looks far more like an ass than a cunt. So really, it’s a GASS.

I would probably look about the same in her position. Only with a big nasty scar running up the middle.

Not a pretty picture.

An Errant Purchase, or Apologies to William

Dramatis Personae

Rudrich, a stalwart and stolid salesman of previously owned office furniture
Elsanore, his good and faithful wife and a real estate agent in her own mien
Minsk, their bright and simple daughter of halfscore and five years of age

{The curtain opens on a modest but pleasant suburban kitchen. Elsenore sits at the table, paying bills. As the scene opens, Rudrich enters stage-right, triumphant. He carries a grocery bag. He doffs his coat and hat, then approaches Elsanore }

Rurdrich : Rejoice, good wife, for your husband returneth from the cruel and violent jungle of yonder Capers with his victor’s spoils!
Elsanore : Well met, noble husband! I knew yon quest could ne’r o’ercome my strong and wholesome mate! Now foretell me… was yon quest successful? Have ye the item with whose purchase thou wert charged?
Rudrich : Can it be else? Behold!

{ Rudrich, with a flourish, delves into the grocery bag he holds and produces a bagged head of lettuce)

Rudrich : Huzzah! Now, as for my compensation, affection is the traditional…
Elsanore : What bag of foulness is this? I ask’d for one thing only, and thou returneth with this… monstrosity of verdant vegetation?
Rudrich : But… thine charge was for a head of lettuce, nothing more…
Elsanore : I, in mode most crystal and pure, didst charge thou with the procurement of one head of lettuce of the ROMAINE variety. This… this sodden knot of mulch and weed is of that accursed bastard of a moss patch and a hedgerow known as ICEBERG. A title befitting its so-called “flavour” and lack of use!
Rudrich : Didst thou speaketh the word “Romaine” in thine charge? I remembrest not!
Elsanore : I didst speak it most clearly and truly, and what’s more, I spake it thrice! Perhaps, as oft I charge, thou listeneth not?
Rudrich : Ah, no no, good wife, egads, now I rememberest thy addition.
Elsanore : Then why, pray tell, does this fat sack of ill growth besmirch this, our temple of nourishment?
Rudrich : … the grocer’s price was most boon on this item!
Elsanore : Pah! A penny spent on such refuse is an act of criminal profligacy!
Rudrich : … and yon manager of produce didst assure me they are virtually identical…
Elsanore : Fah! A self-serving libel so simple as to fool only halfwits and juveniles!
Rudrich : And… (sotto voce) this is the variety of mine preference.
Elsanore : Pardon? Thou speak’st too soft. Again?
Rudrich : My preference is this variety!
Elsanore : Hah! The truth will out! Price and equivalency be damn’d, thou sought to please thine own ends at the expense of mine! Dost thou think me a simpleton, that I should not pierce thy deception?
Rudrich : …twere a possibility!
Elsanore : Twere not! To think, I scoffed when my dear mother warned I wed a base liar, and now…

{ Enter daughter Minsk, oblivious. }

Minsk : Greetings, good Father. Didst thou procure the paper of graphing I needeth for my project in maths due tomorrow morn?

{ Rudrich looks at daughter and wife most glumly, then sighs and puts on both coat and hat once more. }

Rudrich : I shall return anon.

{ Rudrich exits stage-right. }

THE END… or is it?

Yes. Yes it is.