Lola at the Coffee House

great, theres a kick in the virtual ass. Im now a strait man for the king of no-liners and the maven of the run-on sentence and the fact free assertion.

Oh well, gimme a cannoli without all those chocolate thingies on them, Im gonna sit here and do fuckin caricatures of the patrons

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Spendi, Chrissakes cross yer legs. WIth all that crinoline you look like the PATH escalators in Hoboken.

Oh boy!! Would you not fancy having a go at this fm?

http://www.abcgallery.com/M/manet/manet34.html

The figure on the right is The Barber of Seville.

I'll have you know ff that I have a nice copy of The History of Ladies Underwear by Cecil Saint-Laurent. It is right beside me at this very moment.

Here's a picture from its pages--

http://www.bc.edu/bc_org/avp/cas/his/CoreArt/art/resources/frag_swing.jpg

Eat your hearts out lads. It's the levellers who brought us tights and jeans. The scientific revolution.

Good morning, she sings, waltzing in wearing her homemade 1950's dress and fluffy green petticoat. My mother let me buy that, so pretty. It turned out I never wore it, since petticoats, the items I take it Spendi calls crinolines, went out of style, kaboom, something like the week after we bought that one. Must have been on sale. That would have been from Penney's, in Santa Monica.




I'll have a couple of curry scrambled eggs, Wassau, and please whisk them well before panning. Some fresh integrale hearthbread, toasted, would be great with that irish butter.
But first a cup of piping hot dark roast coffee, please.

Oh, I feel up to reading both the NY Times and the Guardian today.

That's not a crinoline osso. It looks like a shuttlecock to me. (If you will pardon the expression.)

I don't read newspapers anymore. If you want to know what's going on just read the headlines in all the papers.

Here you go fm. I brought your cannoli over myself. Spendi does look uncomfortable, if fetching in that crinoline petty coat. Spendi, go put your clothes back on. Indecent exposure is no small offense.

I had many petticoats, osso in the 6th and 7th grades. I wore them to school. In those days the schools in Texas were not air conditioned and in September and October, and March through May it was often very hot. I was dedicated to beauty and style at that early age. I remember sitting on those petticoats and sweating. They would make marks on my legs and I'd have to pull them away because the starch made them stick even more. Yuck. But I wore them every day, as did the other girls. It's not always easy to be stylish. I also "slept" on very large brush hair rollers every night. Amazing what was required of us when we were young.

That is a crinoline, spendi. But what is a shuttlecock? Oh, I see, it's a birdie.
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/crinoline

Oh, god, don't mention hair rollers.

Back from class.

<throws knapsack onto booth bench>

Ravenous.

What has Sybil got in the soup pot today?

What do you want? Sybil has anything you desire.

Back from tour of west of the Rio Grande (goodwill, walgreens, donut mart) with Diane. New discovery, we both used to be crazy for Bola Sete et al.



I nabbed three books to read, she drools:
Nelson de Mille, Night Fall
John Le Carre, The Honorable Schoolboy
and the piece de resistance, Orhan Pamuk's My Name is Red

I still resent a boyfriend, mid to late sixties, the one that asked me to marry him every new years and I could never make myself say yes, basically a really good man, who complained once about my hair, I never fixed it. Never fixed it! Night after night sleeping on rollers. I happen to have had naturally curly/wavy hair that had its own ideas. Those were the times: I remember trying to iron my hair so I could look like Audrey Hepburn or Carol Lynley.

I think someone said it was a doughnut!

I must be several cookies and several more gallons of coffee behind the big eaters here, the regulars.
Just come in from an orchestral concert.
What's the plat du jour? And I'd like a pot of tea, builder's tea, none of your fancy stuff. In fact, I'd like it served in a chipped mug.

I've ironed my hair. That was before straightening irons. And then I stopped. I don't want straight hair anymore. And then the messy, bed head came into style. It will never go out of style for me. I do almost nothing to my hair these days.

Lola, carrying her hammer, brings a mug from kitchen. Here you go, McTag......I'll chip the mug for you. Wassau will bring you whatever else you want, including builder's tea..........whatever that is.

I am having HEB store brand coffee this late afternoon. It's good enough for the likes of me. I not only don't cotton to so much fancy food, I have never sampled most of it. We use a sweetener derived mainly from stevia. The mrs mostly. I use honey if I need to sweeten anything.

I bet that was a relief. Did you get Mrs Mac to get you a bowl of hot water to soak your feet in?

Good. She can introduce me to Doreen in Prisoner in Cell Block H then.