The early evening. Supper is on its way. Karaoke looms in the future. The People are talking.
Palinode: (in the midst of lying outrageously about something) It’s true.
Lotus: (also lying) I believe you.
Palinode: I’m not shitting you.
Lotus: I don’t want you to be shitting me.
Palinode: Really? What, I’m not good enough?
Lotus: No, I’d be coming out your - you know -
Palinode: Oh no, I don’t know all of a sudden.
Lotus: (lowers voice even though NO ONE’S AROUND) - your anus. If you were shitting me.
Palinode: It might not be so bad.
Lotus: Yes it would! How could it not be bad?
Palinode: Maybe if we coated you in some kind of oil. Baby, olive, motor. You’d be slick. And let’s see... maybe if we broke your shoulders... those could be a problem...
Lotus: I don’t want to be slick and broken-shouldered!
Palinode: Well fine. If you’re not going to put forth the effort there’s no point.
Lotus: Fine then!
Palinode: I didn’t want to shit you in the first place anyway.
Lotus: Good!
Palinode: That’s a relief, really.
6 comments:
Might the two of you be available for dinner -- say, sometime in the middle of April?
We are definitely available. Regrettably we live about 7000 miles from Tuvalu - that is, the real Tuvalu. From your Tuvalu we're about 1900 miles. But anyway, would you want the kind of dinner conversation that The Lotus and I would offer? Because it would sound a lot like the conversations I put up on my site.
That is precisely why I am inquiring.
Wait. I never said anything about bringing Luvabeans. Nice though she may be.
Ms. Beans: sure you can crash our dinner party, but bluebloods fresh off the Mayflower like yourself must bring lobster for everyone. And yes, I'm trying to entice you to join Canada's dark legions.
I never wrote a palinode,
I never hope to write one;
but I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather write than shite one.
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