A few nights ago while on the back deck reading John Waters' Shock Value (A Tasteful Book About Bad Taste) , it must have been more than God could resist. Out stepped my neighbor Honeypot in a halter top and shorts and she quickly set to work building a fire.
It seemed fitting (unlike her apparel) that not only was it the warmest day we'd had in a while but that the the big news of the day was the mayhem being caused by a five alarm fire raging in the city.
I ignored her as best I could until I heard someone calling out "Hey, want some wood?". No, it wasn't a new paramour for our Honeypot but the neighbor on the other side of her fence. "I've just cut up a bunch of wood and you could have some for your fire!" he said a little too excitedly. "Sure, that'd be great", she answered, her cottage cheese thighs quivering in antici.......well, you get it.
Woody lives with his mother, an ever intriguing prospect when you're over the age of 40 and have your own wagon that you still pull around town. He poked his head around the back end of the lattice topping the fence that usually separates them and began handing over freshly cut wood. I've little doubt he's clearing away some of the forestation in his back yard to prepare a plot for his mother's final resting place although it could just be that he wants a better view of Honeypot's Emporium.
As the flames threatened to lick the leaves of the innocent willow tree trying to enjoy the last blush of summer, they chatted, she adjusted her halter and I went in to check my fire extinguisher.
Oddfellows Local 151 mp3 - R.E.M.
11 hours ago