Dys,
Are these your own verses?
Diane, promises promises !! When are we gonna be alone together eh ????
Viz, so nice to meet you - if I take of my turban, you will love me even more, when u see my lusk, silky, jet black hair (and the color does *not* come from a bottle) !!
hiama, go slow mate - u know how u r when u r drunk !!
Lola, so great to be here - such lovely people (and such porvocative poses, lifting skirts and all that
) I think I am gonna like it here
And if I can find a nice yng man to snuggle up to, it would be purrrrrrrrrrfect !!!
(sigh.) Not again.
Oh well, lots of nice men here to snuggle up to. You'll just have to stand in line.
Good Morning, Everyone... Ah, do I smell coffee? Looks like it's going to be a nice day today. Maybe I'll take Jack for a run around Central Park.
Woof! (translated: OhBoy OhBoy OhBoy!)
Diane, I'm ready to go to Glenmorangie's Highland Home, in the Glen of Tranquility.... just saying the name invokes a feeling of peace!!
Hi Gautam.... love the turban!!
Viz, your bruises have brought out a wonderful verse from Dys...
Dys, is that a Richard Brautigan verse?
<handing a fresh new bottle of Genmorangie to hiama> Here, dear, is your reinforcements... <clink>... Cheers!!
And, a toast to OaK, that he and Mrs. OaK are enjoying their vacation-by-the-sea...
<Jack trots in, with his leash in his mouth>
....gotta run.... be back later....
Yes, Dys, we'd really like to know.
Bye, P&L! Have a nice run! (woof, woof to you, Jack)
Withers, I'm having some geraniums and alyssum and things delivered later today. Thought I'd replant Lola's urns on the front stoop...something appropriately springy. Please let me know when they arrive...
Oh Viz, I love the smell of the earth in spring. I'll help you plant the flowers when they come. My cat, Felix Noir, will probably be by to help. He likes to smell flowers and flop down as close as possible to me while I dig.
Vis, that's a lovely idea. Thank you for doing that. I used to do it, but I've lost motivation lately. It'll cheer me up and maybe stir the motivation center in my brain.
<Kissing Jack> I wish I had time to accompany you to Central Park.
I'm flying home to New York today guys, so I'll be absent this evening. Carry on without me. I'll check in when I get home tonight.
Gautum, there are occasionally some nice looking men around here.
How about that one over there by the window. He's an NYU professor and he looks just plain sexy. Do, Gautum, take off your turban and stay awhile. Let your gorgeous hair down, I'd love to see it, and I know, so would we all.
Withers get this man whatever he wants.
Dys, you haven't answered our question..............yet.....
(Withers greets Viz at door and ushers her into powder room to correct makeup and hair. Moonlight stroll back from Cafe 101 with Don Henley took a slight detour...)
Oh! You're all here! (blush) Hope you weren't waiting up for me...(giggles)
No thank you, Withers, I believe I'll pass on the champagne tonight. I had more than enough at the cafe, and besides, I'm feeling quite giddy already! (more giggles)
(Lola discreetly points out leaves in Viz's hair, Viz doesn't care one whit...)
Lalalalalala...I'm off to bed. (tripping up stairs, humming "last worthless evening...")
Sounds like you had a lot more fun tonight than I did, Viz. I'm jealous, very jealous................ I'm home in New York at last. Tucking myself into my cozy little bed. Good night all.............
Lola, have a wonderful time in NYC.
Dys' poem is a quote from Richard Brautigan; rather appropriate for Viz, I would imagine, as she left a trail of leaves and grass clippings all the way up the stairs last night.
Withers, a double mocha latte, please. I've been to the dog park with Sam and we've both worked up an appetite.
Woops, so sorry, Withers. As you know, there is nothing friendlier than a wet dog! Sammy had a good time swimming after tennis balls.
Hi there guys and gals. I'm back from my adventure, all safe and sound. Just read the labels please. FRAGILE & THIS WAY UP and don't drop me.
Good morning, OaK! So glad you're back! Wouldn't think of dropping you!
Thank you for cleaning up leaves & grass on stairway, Fifi...sorry to make such a mess...and now I see dear poochies have left wet puddles all over entry hall. I trust all will be put back in order before Lola returns...?
Come sit next to me, OaK, and tell me all about your trip to the seashore...Withers, bring us some fresh orange juice, will you?
Orange juice would be fine Viz, but can we add a man-size dash of gin to it ? thankyou.
The seashore, building sandcastles, writing words in the sand, playing kiss chase with the mermaids and avoiding King Neptune's wrath. He calls flirting between mermaids and landmen, surfing and turfing .
We had Cotton Candy and Toffee Apples, Fish Sticks, walrus riding & clay seasgull shooting. Thus a rollocking good time was had by all.
Oak, tell us more. Sam is all dry and we are ready for some good stories.
Quick bath first Diane, you know how sand can cling and irritate. It's like anti-freeze in your car, finds every nook and cranny.
Who drank all of P & L's Glenmorangie- Oh I did, sorry ! Must have gone to sleep by the fire and forgotten all about it.
Hi OAk, Diane and Viz-I haven't got a story will a poem do ?
Here's a little poem that I would like to think describes this Unicorn:
Some deem I'm gentle, some I'm kind:
It may be so,--I cannot say.
I know I have a simple mind
And see things in a simple way;
And like a child I love to play.
I love to toy with pretty words
And syllable them into rhyme;
To make them sing like sunny birds
In happy droves with silver chime,
In dulcet groves in summer time.
I pray, with hair more white than grey,
And second childhood coming on,
That yet with wonderment I may
See life as in its lucent dawn,
And be by beauty so beguiled
I'll sing as sings a child.
A little story for you all. Back in the mid 70s I lived in Windsor, west of London. A prosperous town, popular with tourists due to the royal connection and the castle. I used to drink in a pub that stood in the shadow of the castle. It was olde worlde and very popular. One particular day I went in there late afternoon to have a couple of beers and read the paper. It was quiet and I was sitting quite happily at the bar minding my own business when a rather well worn man of short stature and of middle age came in. He wore a suit that had seen many dry cleaning machines and was faded, and a little bit tight. His shirt was frayed at the collar and his shoes were scuffed. He also wore a valuminous topcoat, at least 2 if not 3 sizes too big. He sat on the stool next to me and ordered a beer and lit a cigarette. I watched as he looked the place over. His eyes flitted quickly, left to right, up and down. Except for a middle aged couple at the far end , he and I were the only customers. He spoke first, in a neutral if not non discriptive English accent. "You seen the cost od food these days ?" he asked. I nodded, "Yes, it can be pricey, depends where you look". He took a large can of pressed ham out of the inside pocket of his topcoat. "You know how much that costs ?" he asked me. I shook my head. "Not something I buy" I told him. "Costs a quid" he said, "1 Pound, you wanna buy, half price" he offered. I shook my head. "Hang on" he said, "I've got....." a quick glance all around......"3 more 'ere"
I was a bit taken aback, God knows why, I've bought plenty of moody gear in pubs after all. "Where did you get 'em" as if I needed too ask. HE tapped his nose with his forefinger. "You know." he said, drawing the words out slowly. I nodded, of course I knew. He was a tea leaf, the name of the game was, If it moves, nick it. A bit like the old Army logic, If it don't move, paint it.
"So why did you take 'em ?" I asked. "Look" he said. "I just got out of HMP, I did a 4 year bang up and I'm borasic lint, need some cash". I nodded sympatheticaly and passed up on his offer of 4 cans of meat. "How about the governor in here, the pub's owner, do you think he might be interested". "No" I replied, "He's as strait as a Roman Road" I said "and the other thing is, the coppers from the castle will be coming in here soon for their drop of beer and they'll march you right back into HMP and you wouldn't like that would you" I said. "Oh I don't know, it's not all bad. You get 3 square meals a day, a permament roof over your 'ead, no rent, all your laundry done and yer ciggies. Now where else can I get all that without wheelin' and dealin." I almost agreed with him as he finished his drink and said goodnight. I in turn wished him well.
And this is why I love Lola's Salon: the exceptionally fine and generous people who come here.
Hiama, I thought at first that might be your own poem, so I checked on Google--Robert Service. It was lovely. Except for the simple mind, I think it probably describes you perfectly.
John, I loved your story. Poor old sod, he must have missed the security of prison. I'm glad he found you and your sympathetic ear, instead of some uncaring businessman interested only in his own concerns.
Yes, hiama, the poem will do nicely! Sounds a bit like me, too. The more birthdays I have, the younger I get... Say, was that you using the word "y'all" on another thread? LOL, felt right at home!...but please, don't ever lose that delightful British accent. It is music to my ears (or is that eyes?)
Good story, OaK. Like Diane, I felt sorry for the poor guy. I can be such a sucker at times. I probably would've bought a tin. You will have to explain some of your British phrases for me. How much is a quid? What is a "tea leaf"?
I will have to think of a good story to share...
