Guts for garters and bronchiole for fishnets

Today I found something unusual in my post office box. It was neither fish nor fowl. Neither was it a girlie mag. Or a bill. It was an invitation to Gladys Limerod’s 211th birthday party out back of the mill.

A couple — two — battered trucks have been towed from a neighbor’s front yard and set up as trestles. Being a lifelong Mainer, even though she is still alive and spends two weeks every year in New Hampshire hording stockpiles of firecrackers, beer, and rifles, she has never left the state. (Unless you consider the time she was abducted by her cousin Rolf “Big Eater, Small Scrapper” Lungfish for a day-trip to the big city Portland.)

The celebration is supposed to be big. Heads of rival families have been invited and they will attend with coolers full of Dale Limerod’s hacked-up relatives from away who foolishly wandered down the dirt roads with the more than conspicuous signs reading: “No Trespassing. Private Property.” When a delegation of Limerods approached the offending families, they were met with  “No Hunting” signs. Being unable to read well, the Limerods mistook the “Hunting” for “Hugging” and went on to slay the entire Appletons.

I haven’t decided if I shall be attending. And if I do, I don’t know in what capacity. Should I go as an ambassador or as an elder of rake?

Fiddle music is promised. And since one of my legs actually belonged to Dai “Foxtrot” Shibboleth, the last Welshman to do the rumba before Cuba became Communist and Tom Jones stole flashy underwear, I might just hobble in.

Here’s a bit of advice I once received from Beckham’s woman, Posh Spice Girl: “Never marry a footballer. If he’s not playing with his own balls, he’s playing with another’s. And his foreplay is always foul. Plus I’m constantly catching him off-sides when it comes to oral sex. Not to mention his fumbling with my tits! It’s not as if he’s been given the red card!”

The advice, I must confess, did come via another popster who got it via a tabloid who got it via a phone tap who got it via BT who got it via a bird on the wire. So take it or leave it.


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