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4.1.06
Fools Rush In...
Choose your
favorite metaphor, my darlings. 'Candy from a baby',
perchance..... 'Fish in a barrel', mayhap..... 'March
of the lemmings' is my own personal favorite. (Though I
admit that particular metaphor is a tad degrading to the poor
lemmings. Humans are far less clever. They smell worse,
too.) But back to my point... and I always have at least
one of those, love doves. Siddy has been naughty, but what else
is a boy to do? April is the month for fools, after all.
And there was no shortage of those to be found. However, one
day simply wasn't enough time for all the beautiful havoc and
destruction I'd planned
to unfold. I needed more. One cannot rush
perfection. What can I say? Brilliance a such curse....
4.10.06
After the Fools Rushed In....
Spring has
sprung. The lions and lambs have come and gone.... and down the
pub, all this talk of luuuurve has left me dead bored.
What else could I do to combat the tedium than to concoct a little
plan to shake things up? You know how I thrive on chaos.
Disharmony is my most favorite melody.... outside of the shrieks and
groans of the truly tortured. But even I can only do so much
with what I'm given. A master cannot create perfection from
such pathetic lumps of clay... and yet still I try....
This time I
borrowed an identity (Barrett. - Password: 'Big Boy'?
Tut tut, boyo. And they think I'm the one with
issues. PS- might I suggest a harder password to crack next
time?) But I digress....
Picture it
if you will: It was a set up too good to resist. A pack of
young, unattached pub hoons already swinging wild in the Amsterdam's
most delightfully wicked districts (mind you, I had no part in
orchestrating that trip. Bad boys will be boys, after all.
Pity I wasn't invited - what's a bachelor week without me there to
liven things up? Still, I found a way to insinuate myself after
all....) Meanwhile, all the good little girls were tucked away
safe in their boring little lives... and all the good little boys
were out of pocket being the busy little beavers (lemmings?) they
are, all with their noses to that old grindstone..... Until I put my
tasty little plan in motion, that is.
'Borrowed'
identity in hand, I flirted a few carefully worded mails around to
where they'd do the most good. Namely to the keepers of the
women I'd defamed with my delightfully erotic tales of their carnal
gluttony and tasteless sex acts. It caused quite a stir, as you
might imagine.... but then again, a thankless job never done.
One would think the lemmings would be more appreciative! The
stories I created for them were far more creative and imaginative
than the reality of their sad little lives.... But that's
humans for you. Narrow minded, obsessive creatures, playing the
victim to the very end....
For
posterity's sake, I give you my five masterfully crafted reports....
the chaos
it caused, and the glorious moment of my denouement, in all my
cerulean splendor at the airport terminal in Amsterdam....
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