ZID VI CHAPTER CINCO : PLAY

[The Urbane Spaceman]

Growling and grumbling. Flexing, flossing, macking, getting up in yo grill, hench; all these are old terms for the thing that a feline will do when it wants to appear larger than it is. It does this in the face of danger, when it is afraid.


Have at it how you will. Fluff up your fur. Bristle as you might. True confidence, in the face of fear, is to show no care at all. That is true swagger. Own the fucking place because you have been in this situation many times before, and you know how it will play out.


You will see it to its end.


Cans and bottles and cups and chalices vanished form the table, and we found seats to sit. Others surrounded us, but we had come there to conduct ourselves like businessmen. It was not our fault for what happened when all the others showed up.

It was just business, that’s all.



Jerry always sat with his back to the wall. I preferred to sit that way as well, so I took the seat in front of the sliding glass door. I could see the front entrance for this vantage, as well as the door to the garage on the left, and the hallway to the right, which ran away at odd angles down the length of the stately ranch.


Behind me was the long deck, and beyond it, the swimming pool area, and a swim house beyond that.


Far off was a BBQ area with a place for a bonfire. We were in the upper part of that sordid town, way off in the fig tree orchards.


Yes, we were surrounded by large young men who played football. Some of them were Bulldogs.


Jerry looked down the length of the table and he met eyes with Tellesco, as well as another individual whose eyes looked charged up, as well as flitting about, like a hummingbird’s wings. He was already cranked up on something.


Man, this calls for a drink. Just recalling that all brings back the shivers. You know, from a time thirty years ago when the powder was simple, straightforward, and delicious. I will fix up a Bombay Martini now.



Prosit!



.

[mistah willies]

So what the hell happned next?

Stop this taking too long nonsense.

Friggin write more often.

Duuuude

[Dear Booze]

So what the hell happned next?

Stop this taking too long nonsense.

Friggin write more often.

Duuuude

Zackly!

Get to it goddam you!

[The Urbane Spaceman]

Get to it goddam you!

Man, I have been trying to tell this next part

But whenever I check in on here,

well,

some Drunkards steal me away.

One leaves me to listen to his discussion with his Lady, you know, the one who carries the large breasts, and all of the vagina in his proximity.


I am learning to speak Deutsch Sprache der Fotze with a Russian flavor. It is a good thing, this taste, and it needs a toss of vodka for better flavor

But these things keeps me form this story.


I will try to write more on this when I recover.



always know this:


I will never apologize for my behavior.


I will never make an excuse to hang out with you mighty Drunkard Bastards.

There is no excuse for me to be with you.

I cannot be helped, unless you wish to pour me a drink. That always helps a fellow and Lady Drunkardista.

Here is the first line of the next part, only besacue it has taken me waaaaaay too long to keep rewriting this fucking post.

We sat at that table with burly men looking down over our shoulders, to see what we would do.


Bastards.



---> Pull out your zip lock bag of 420 smoke. Pool-side hotties make a cold winter turn into summertime warmth.


Someday soon, we will return to Fuckno

[mistah willies]

You're gay