Start spreadin' the news, I'm leaving today--> New York!

Waiting anxiously for a full report and pics - specially Kicky's new shiny err...umm....

Nobody can tell the story about last night like Joe...and I ain't even gonna try.

I'll just make sure he gets the main facts correct after he posts. I was the only one still sober when the shyt began to fly...so I will be the most reliable with regard to those little details.

Well, it went about as well as I expected, and I'm deeply browed cynic.

The place, Pete's Tavern, was hopping. It always is. Packed elbow to elbow and belly to butt, a crowd of art dealers, stock brokers and bankers, the kind that drink hard and talk loud. Frank and I forced ourselves in through the doorway. I had to smack two art dealers to make them give us some space at the bar. Art dealers are surprisingly resistant to change. We had a short one or two to steady our nerves.

Here we were only moments from meeting a real Viennesse princess and neither of us could spelled viennese. I told Frank I couldn't make really good notes unless I knew I was spelling it right and that maybe he should go to the corner deli and buy a can of those sausages so I could check the spelling, but he saw right through my little ploy and fell to the floor moaning.

I had another short one to steady my nerves. Suppose I was tongue tied? Suppose she wanted to tie something else? Why hadn't I thought to wear a tie?

My thoughts, and those were good thoughts I thought, were interrupted by Kicky's arrival. He made it with his usual flare. You know, you'd think more people would be upset by a guy who sets off flares in a crowded bar, but no one seemed to mind the showers of hot magnesium cascading down on them and it helped Frank and me find him. So then we had another couple to ste... , well, by that time we were pretty steady, so I guess those drinks were just to pass the time.

Kicky kept asking every woman if she was Dagmaraka. They'd say no. He'd say something and smile. They would laugh. I was going to stop him until I realized he was on to something. He'd stumbled onto a new opening line and it was working. He had three, four, women around him, pulling on his coat and hoping he would say something to them again. They were reaching in their purses to get pen and paper so he could have their number when they said our table was ready, so we had to go.

Our table was in the back, across from the fireplace. It's dimly lit and so were we.

Then, just as the waitress was shoving her phone number into Kicky's shirt pocket, Dagmar appeared. I was thunderstruck, but that was a long time ago at Drama Camp during a canoe trip and has nothing to do with this story, so why, you say, did I bring it up. I can't remember. Parts of my mind have been melted and, OH YEAH,

Dagmar is one, fabulous, babe. Yahhuh.

If you haven't met her in person, your life has been wasted, okay? Get used to it or get over here and eat dinner with us the next time, otherwise forget your Noble Peace Prize and all that money you made in commodities, it's worthless and so is your life. That's all I'm going to say.

Except this:

We ate dinner and asked each other all those questions we always wanted answers to:

Is dlowen actually a rabbit?

Is OBill a good guy or wacko? (I'm supposed to start thread with a poll to find out.)

Who are these other people at our table and why are they eating all the bruschetta?

Does what Kicky is showing Dagmaraka look more like a turkey leg or a turkey neck?

If a quantity (A) of series (A, A1/2, A1/32, A1/164...An) is subsumed by a alien force of intergalactose intolerents, can there be hope for peace in the world?

( I think my notes of that one are right, or maybe Frank was asking for a piece of pie and a glass of milk.)

The meeting was adjourned until the Prince arrives in February.
We are laying in wait.

Joe(Please pass that last piece of bread whoever you are.) Nation

the horror...the horror...

Oh yeah, I forgot, we danced the hora.

I didn't know that was Vietnamese

As usual...I'm left...slightly left out.

The night was a pastiche of odd frights.

Up on the table, kicky, shirt ripped from his sweating Italian chest, head and dark mane thrown back, hairy toes still purple from last summer's debauched grape-crushing...

the unveiling was magnificent, shocking, and awe-inspiring. Kicky is a true stud.
<there, kicky. your turn now>

What dark mane ? He shaved it off !!

When Dagmaraka walked into the room did she have that crazy fire thing going on behind her head?

Wait a sec Mounty...let me get these boots on...

here's an exclusive artisit's rendering of last night's debauchery...

Dag is going to be so flattered by that imagery.

it is missing the fire thing behind my head. i never go anywhere without it

Dag's behind was ablaze. On frank's shoulder (note careful separation of sentence fragments) a salt-encrusted parrot burrowed malign intentions toward me with its one good eye, motionless, intoning "The Sargasso...we remember..."

I have to tell you, Gus, although there was no actual fire, I felt a heat rising in my loins, I was struck with awe, I was dumbfounded, and, as the shepherds of the field that long ago night, sore afraid.

Or maybe just sore because I had dropped my hot cheese hor'sdouvre in my lap, but as I got up to shake her hand another round of aweness belted me because I saw she was staring right at my belt.

"Gracious," I thought," (wait a minute, did I think 'Gracious'? No, I said to myself, "Oh sh-t, she checking out my stuff." Yeah, that's right.)

So

"Oh, sh-t, she's checking out my stuff.'' Then two things happened, one, I remembered that I had cheese all over my nether regions and two, both Kicky and Frank went racing around the table to give Dagmar 'a welcome hug'. You can just imagine what kind of a spectacle that was. She finally was able to grab a fork from the table and fend the two of them off. Like a couple of circus lions they returned to their seats growling and snarling at each other.

In other news, I tried to mention your name in the conversations but no one seemed interested in discussing you. Why do you think that would be?

Joe (almost fully recovered from the second degree burns) Nation

Probably because if the conversation turned to me Dag would have dismissed you gentlemen and retired to the ladies room to lounge on the fainting couch and try to regain composure. Once my image was cleared from her head, she could return to the realm of the mere mortals

Makes sense to me. That's what I always have to do when you are in the room.

i think that's kicky on the table...

Wow, sounds like so much fun!