Washington Merry-Go-Round!

 

One of us was stopped while transiting an exit lounge. The other decided to be too polite by half, and before you know it, everyone and his brother was raving about the exclusive nature of the appointments on display. I must confess, I endured a distinctly comatose palaver while the hosts subjected my plates—even the silent ones!—to the kind of treatment which you'd go a long way to expect, even in your everyday funding crisis. But still, I hitched up my brioche, had a Nigerian Prince ask for my number and then took in some of the local riff-raff on the condition that they enroll in a work-study tragedy on the Southern Coast. Being an Oakie myself, I never for one minute had any doubt that a person of means derives his or her stability from an increasingly tenuous grip on fatuous results-oriented partnershits the world over. By whatever means at their disposal, the 'graceless four' insisted that I follow their lead in advocating for the rights of those of a fictitious tendency. I know they meant well, but still. Does this sound like something you'd be interested in? Because if so, there's a little-used Oriental cup-case which could ease your way into a confab of the remaining principals.

Only a half day under the can, I could tell that the burn near her left shoulder wasn't something she was particularly proud of, despite all the hollering she did when it looked like I'd lost the vision in my left eye. When I returned at two minutes past three, she'd managed to free her forehead and one of her knees. I wasn't about to help her since I had my own fish to fry, so to speak. But now, when I think back to how she'd regained my confidence using only standard, if currently unavailable, household items, if that, I'm forced to conclude that she was right all along. There's a voice in my head which tells me, over and over and over, that there's something which I must not forget. But the day is long past when that kind of thing could get any traction with me. I'm not the functional type, is all I'm trying to say. So, after we got dressed, went out in the parking lot for a quick smoke and made a solemn vow to never be taken alive, I couldn't help wondering just what her name was anyway. And did it sound like something which I heard on one of the shows that time?

There's a period of time, near the conclusion of your standard training protocol, when some of your most obviously inchoate participants can't decide for the life of them if any of my extended family could reasonably be expected to expand coverage to all fifty states. I try to single out the leader(s) of the claque and make it known, in no uncertain terms, that their concerns are nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, if they were to see what I see when I so much as gaze longingly through the window of a defunct armchair emporium, they'd be within their rights to read me the riot act and then go peacefully into that good night. Unfortunately, things are rarely that easy. In fact, if anyone has any questions, a major announcement is expected within the hour. Until then, it's recommended that all concerned adjourn to a makeshift temporary shelter and have a go at some dimwitted dummies brought in just for that eventuality. I know it might sound abysmally insensitive, but you could do a lot worse than to score a dirt bomb on an isolated tree ferber. And you can take that to the blank!

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