Rain, Rain…
July 4, 2008
“Watch out for the third-floor rapids!” whooped Virgil,
paddling past the dining room on a wingback.
“I wonder if Edna’s still in the cellar?”, Edgar mused,
splashing a little, as a prosthetic leg and
the collected works of W. Somerset Maugham
eddied gracefully around a side table.
~*~
July 5, 2008 at 5:11 am
‘…eddied…’? should that be ‘…edgaried…’ or ‘…edna-ied…’? being a little to familiar, i’m thinking (yes, a dangerous proposition without libational excess).
July 5, 2008 at 10:20 am
never hire a one-legged plumber for the complex jobs. left the gait open…
July 5, 2008 at 1:53 pm
I warned you. But no. You wanted to learn the PanPeruvian Rain Dance. Pfffft. Get the steps wrong and it’s galloshes for a week.
July 7, 2008 at 10:34 am
gnuface I was actually alluding to that famous novel about the Spanish Armada: “Edward Ho!” I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, dear. (Libational excess - that’s, like, drowning in drink… *snigger*.)
daisyface: Heee! Wiiiide open. Like the gap between his shirttails and the back of his trousers.
Dolface: Always trying to dampen my spirits. Besides, I couldn’t help it - the pipes…the piiipes were calling…