Slim Snippy and Libby Chaquita married very young. Or at least Libby did. Slim was four years her elder at a point in their lives when four years was a world apart. But they fell into a lip locked limb entwined embrace from the get go and didn’t let go until little Conrad Snippy was conceived. Libby became Snippy in short order and disastrous machinations were set in motion. In the little town of Kiel there was no margin for error.
Libby Snippy had been inconsolable after the loss of her only child. She felt he was the one bright spot in her otherwise inconsolable life. It was then that Libby began to eat everything that was edible. She devoured everything, everywhere, at every hour. Even her bed was included in her feasting frenzy. However it wasn’t until little Ms. Moxie slid into her life that she learned to soil her sheets in a more vigorous and satiating fashion.
Standard Moxie always knew how to enjoy herself. When she was a young woman she always felt a tingle in places she was just learning that she had places; especially when young boys groped her with their eyes. Even when older men violated her with their whole being. She basked in their attentions. But it seemed when those attentions manifested they always lacked a few of that manifests line items. Then at the age of forty she learned to savor her sexuality. Looking at her new item, twenty five year old bartender Cyrus Plush, she had a lot of savoring going on all within her various and sundry places. Her savor was brimming to the rim of her tightly wound, packed, and stacked raven haired vessel. As she raised the cocktail glass to her color coordinated dripping ruby red lips she caught a glimpse of their reflected lushness in the liquid. Savoring would soon be commencing in her room down the road at the Inn shortly.
I do not scamper
Nor do I skitter
I do not hustle
Buster to muster
That’s for the peacocks
With a whole lot of hope
While I cover myself with a veneer of serene calm bemusement it is just an illusion.
Inside I am so darn happy I am just about to pee all over myself.
I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.