Close Make the Man

I’ve just about completed my Internet Course: “Title Correctly, or She Won’t say, Yes. Oh Yes. Now. I want it now. Oh Yes!”

“Just where did that title stop and your obsession with sex begin?” Lola asked, but knew he would answer anyway.

“Lola, don’t get me wrong, but it was you who wanted me to clean up my Titles, didn’t you? Listen to this one here:

She wanted ham, in every room, in every way, and wouldn’t stop until she got ham!

“Now you’ve gotten a few too many typos for my liking”, said Lola while she peered over his shoulder, keeping an eye on the photo of the Caribou Woman looking back at her, before he interrupted her thoughts with

“but the guy works as a cook, with Pulled-Pork as his specialty! She was insatiable for ham, and he was the guy to provide for her needs! If he couldn’t do it, who could? I’m telling you Lola, this title-thing is the best that’s ever happened to me, that is after I met you and all. Just think if I had aced the course before we met each other? Then I could have used my best titles to get you in the sack, or whatever they call that kind of thing today?”

“As if it were your abilities that “got me in the sack?” when it happened at the Summer Fair in Homer. You were there with your “Antler Buddies” ogling the women, and wondering who would be the first one to “get lucky”! I was there sitting on the sidelines, watching you while licking the biggest, and reddest lollipop this side of the State Fair in Palmer, when you came up to me and asked me,

“Pardon me Ma’am. I’ve been watching you lick that thing for an hour now. It has staying power and is worthy of lasting the night! Where did you buy it, so I can get my own and ask someone if she would lick it in the same way?”

“I just turned towards you and said,”If you arm-wrestle with me, I’ll tell you where you can put it, and even help you do so!”

Then you said

“Uh Lola. That is not how we met each other. You must have some sort of repressed memory of the first man who crossed your path, just before putting him in his place, or something?”Not wanting to know exactly where that story came from, or

“You were the one doing the ogling, as I recall and said to me, “Close Make the Man” which I interpreted as, “Come closer you big hunk of a man, and show me your

Big hunk of a man? Have you slipped on one of your titles and hurt yourself in a soft place…..like your head?”

Lola just waited for him to start writing again. It had better be something worth reading, or they would end up at the Emergency Room in Homer again with “use of Keyboard in a non-specified way as alluded to in the Instruction Manual!”

“I’ve always wanted to meet that guy, and ask him how he

“What are you babbling about this time?” asked Lola as she started fingering the keyboard for maximum grip and

“Him, Manual. The fellow that writes all of those instructions for proper usage of whatever! He might have been the one who wrote the first book that helped us through our first crisis, “Manual’s Guide to Loving Her the Right Way, before she hits you the Wrong Way and

“His name is not Manual! That is the name of….oh never mind. And we did not have the crisis in question!”

“but Lola. He used to live up in Healy, and you know about Healy-ites, don’t you? Living in the shadow of that largish sort of mountain makes you wise beyond belief, but sometimes, his wisdom makes it down to the ordinary people, and it becomes part of what the rest of us call “Common Knowledge”. If he hadn’t written, “Follow the pictures to the letter and you will gain success in the completion of, of

-but then the last page was missing, and while I was looking for it, you happened by my diner, and I had the Pulled-Pork necessary to satisfy your needs, showing me that

“Please don’t say, “we were made for each other”, said Lola as his fingers were just about ready to finish the retelling and put the finishing touches on the blog at hand,

“Of course not! I wouldn’t be so corny to say something like that, but if I had possessed that last page, then Manual might have said, “Don’t pull the pork, but leave it whole”, which would have made our situation something entirely different, with us not being together today!”

and that is one of those stories that only the poets can explain…….

 

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Wart of the Day

I’d been looking around the Internet, seeing what others liked to see, read, whatever, when I chanced upon today’s title, “Wart of the Day”. You see, these “bloggers” find some sort of Wart then tell about it, harvesting the “likes” and the

“I realize, you’ve been working on your Titles, but “Wart of the Day? Didn’t you read that wrong?”

“Hey, Lola, nice to see you here today, on our Live Chat Session called, “Live Chat Session” with Mr and Ms Kenai coming to you live, directly from somewhere in the Great State of, well today’s topic is

“You didn’t finish that statement, you know? You didn’t say, “Alaska”.

“Lola, don’t you think they know where they live by now? Anyway. Today’s Wart is a beauty from a little Country that shares a common border with Alaska, just not separated by a waterway called Bering Strait. Every week, or if it really gets popular then

“Do you mean Canada?” said by the spicy little number next to me, wearing a fashionable ensemble, easily purchased on our Website, called, “www.clearandhealy.ak, but now let’s look at that Wart”.

“A Canadian chick seems to be Harvesting the Golden Moose by posting a weekly “Wart” on her website. Let’s just look up in the old “Wart Dictionary” for this week’s Wart!”

“Don’t you think that should be, “Word of the Day?”, said by my double-quotation marked Gal, sitting next to me on her, “cushy pillow for those softer moments in life” also available on our Website to “Favorable Alaskan Prices!”

“No. Clear, I would rather think it to be “Wart of the Dog” but that might have to go onto our Sister Website, “The Pooch in your Pouch” with its fabulous line of Dog-Buskits, found only on this side of

“Dog- Buskits?” Have you lost your mind? reading from left to right, having to move the photo of the Caribou Woman to the left, so her piercing eyes didn’t disturb her thoughts as she

“All right then, if we need to find the right title, it might as well be, “Word of the Dog” but as she only talks about Cats and eating Chocolates, then I would not want to assume that she, in her Canadian Way, would have anything to do with Dog Words, unless it

“You know something?” asked Clear, as her companion, Healy, babbled in the background. “I’d rather let the cameras roll, while we retired to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of Moose Chips, and stared into each others eyes!”

You don’t need to hit me on the head with a bag of Moose Dainties more than once, when getting a suggestion like that! I just pulled out the cardboard cutouts of Me and Clear, and put on a recording by Lou Denali, “The Blues of One Lone Alaskan”! Also available on our Website, “www.denaliblue……

“Whew! Just think about those bloggers who are raking in the the moolah, just by throwing around a Wart or two, eating chocolates and

“Look into my eyes, won’t you?”a voice said, reminding me of my younger days growing up in the shadow of Mt Denali, singing soft music to me, while I just drifted along on a breeze.

“I want you to forget about that “Canadian Chick” once and for all! Just keep looking into my eyes, and tell me what you see?”

“Well” speaking slowly. “I see the most fabulous eyes, I’d ever chanced to see!” said by someone who had fallen in love those many years ago, and never looked around for anyone else!

“Sounds like a load of Moose Poop to me” said that lovely voice, but you know what, even Moose Poop sounded heavenly, when she said it like that!

“Whose word, were we talking about?” asked the fellow next to her in a most dreamy way.

“I think, it was

“Stop right there, you Temptress!! We are “live”on the Internet, and don’t have time to discuss your lovely eyes…but later, in the privacy of their own home, when the lights and the cameras were turned off, he might just turn to her and say, ” Isn’t it great how we met those many years ago, Clear? while taking a dip in the darkening blues of her eyes, as they slipped into something more comfortable, and, and

“That ends, the Mister and Ms Kenai Show for today! If you think, you’ve guessed whose Wart, or Word of the Dog is the Worth of the Day, then write to us here at our Website, and win the chance to take an all expense-paid trip (one-way) to Beautiful Downtown Montreal in that largish Country to the East of Alaska! There you will be met at the airport by none other than the Blogging Queen of WordPress, Ms…..

“Gosh Lola. Now I’ve forgotten her name again. You see, I was looking into your eyes, while reaching for a handful of Moose Chips, but you asked me, “Are your Moose Chips usually firm and ready to Rock your World? which I replied, “No. They are usually crispy and salty, but if I tried to put my mouth, where my chips usually are, then who knows what we can taste and lick along the way…..you know?”

 

Touring with Frantz

Today Friends and Neighbors, we are sitting her in Beautiful Downtown Soldotna waiting for Bike Alaska to begin. Each and every year, regardless of how many Plumes of Volcanic Ash get in the way of our unrestricted vision, we are here broadcasting to you “Live” sending out to the rest of our Great State. Today’s guest is none other than Frantz de Flattyre, who as we all know, is the man in the know about anything and everything to do with

“Come on Lola. Aren’t you going listen to the reports while we wait for this Great Event to roll along past our position, headed for the unknown whiles of Alaska? Remember how exciting it was last year, when our local favorite, Moose Malone almost choked on a watermelon seed and you had to hit him on his back to save his life? All right, you don’t have to remember all the details, as when he accused you of assault, and his girlfriend came up to you and wanted to….but I still think that picture from the Homer Times should be framed and hang on our wall, what with you and her pulling hair and

So tell me Frantz when did you know that your humble beginnings in one of those French-speaking Countries, would lead you to our fair State?

-Thank Vous and my other Friends living in this Language and Culturally-Starved Place you all know as Alaska! When I was studying to be the best person who could spot the Sneaky Snakes of the American Continent, I knew in my heart – seen clutching his heart , while waving to the hopeful women swooning in the grandstands-that someday, I would take my talents and come to this Cultural Backwater and

“Hey Lola. They’ve got that Bloke, France-something or other to tell us about the hows and the whys of this race! Just think of how he will be sitting there in his Foreign Shoes and looking down on the rest of us, thinking that he is better just because his flag has

-But Frantz. Why didn’t you stay in that Foreign Country and enrich the lives of your Countrymen?

Howie, be a dear and help your mother fetch a lawn chair from the shed?

Howie just followed Lola and blinked as they went over to the shed, when Lola replied,”Who has stacked all of these Moose Milk Bottles in the way? Haven’t I said we need to take them back and keep the cash-flowing instead of wading through this quagmire of…

I do it because I want to help bring the European Culture to the peoples of Alaska! What with your malformed Football, and Your women who are obviously lacking anything in the way of beauty and charm, My mission is to show you how it is done in that definite French-Speaking Country, which might have a common border with the likes of you Alaskans, and one which is not separated by the waterway called the Bering Strait!

“Hey Lola, why are you dusting off the old Solar-Powered Bike? I thought we were going to sit here, the whole Family and listen to the exciting details while

-“Whoa Howie! Look how fast your Mom is on that bike! I guess, she decided to get the Close-up, down and dirty details, Bottled at the Source, where the whole race is going to start!”

Howie just nudged to his Nerf Football, and I thought, “Heck, we might as well get some quality time in, before the Race begins!”

Frantz, not to insult you or anything, but a lot of what you’ve been telling me might just ruffle the feathers of a few Alaskans, not to mention what some of the women in the Grandstand are talking about right now…..Excuse me Frantz, but there seems to be a disturbance of some sort at the Main Gate! I’ll need to attend to that while you take the microphone and Please, don’t offend anymore of my Fellow Countrymen and Women in the Great State of Alaska!

Frantz took the microphone and spat on the ground wondering how many women would be sharing his love-making prowess tonight, after he has crowned the winner of the race? Hopefully it will be one of his own Countrymen, who won’t embarrass him by saying something in Alaska-Speak and…..

OK Howie. Whew!  Your old dad is just not the young man, he used to be. Let’s take a rest and enjoy a bottle of Moose Milk before the race begins!

Howie just stood there and stared at his “Dad” as he found a few bottles of Moose Milk and cracked them open for the two of them. “Here is your favorite straw that makes the milk taste like….well like….I’m not really sure what it tastes like! I’ll just try it and….Howie! My Goodness! It tastes like “Twigs of the Kenai Peninsula” or something like that? No, I am not spitting it out on the ground, but I guess, Each to his own, or something?”

Back at the Mike is your host, Soldotna Sal with an update on the race. There was a minor altercation at the Main Gate, but not to worry as the Security Guards are combing the Grandstands for the….what? Just a moment. A message is coming in through my headphones….. A young woman has just been seen making her way towards the commentator booth, where….My God Frantz, Look Out Behind You!”

-sounds of a scuffle in the background, moaning, chairs being broken and, and

“Hey Howie it sounds like they are having a Grand Time, doesn’t it?” Howie just blinked and wondered if there were anymore Twigs in the house, before Mom came home and said,”Howie! Have you been munching between-the-meal Twigs again! You know how it spoils your dinner when…..”

-shouts of, “and this is how Alaskan Women take care of Men who don’t know the difference between their A** and a hole in the….

“Uh Howie. Didn’t that sound like your Mom in the background?”

Howie’s eyes just lit up like the time they put those Christmas Lights in his Antlers and turned them on! Mom said it was better for the environment with solar-powered LED-lights, but then they wouldn’t light in the dark! Howie was just about to remark that

-but the race must go on, regardless of us ever finding Frantz again. Well the shots have been fired and the bikes are motion….Shouldn’t there just have been one shot, instead of ……

“Oh hi Lola. It seems like that Frantz-bloke is “indisposed” or something, but we, that is Me and Howie are having a great time anyway. Have a seat My Love and enjoy a bowl of Moose Chip,s while we watch the sun go down over the Cook Inlet! Man, this is really living, isn’t it?”

-and that’s the way it went down today in Soldotna! Remember, we’ll be broadcasting again next year at the same time with our Politically Correct show as sanctioned by Ms Lola………..of the Lower Kenai Peninsula….

 

 

 

 

With Nary a Stitch On, He said to me

“I’m telling you Lola, if we can get more viewers for our Live-Internet site, we’ll be making more money than we owe in back taxes in no time!”

Sometimes, Lola thought, it seemed to be better, hiding out in the Greenhouse, among the Cannabis Plants, listening to how they talk to one another. The smell of the resin, with the bees and flies doing what they do best, while the day drags on, and the silence, the silence…

“What’cha thinking about Lola? How it would be for us two to be “Doing it” out in the Great Outdoors, surrounded only by the forest and the silent hum of the video camera as we record our passion for each other and the Great State that some of us call Alaska!”

“What are you talking about? Do you want us to “Do it” outside where the dirt will be getting in and around, while you and I are, you know, while the cameras are What?”

“Lola. Lola. Lola. It’s just like the story of Healy and Clear. There they were on the hilltop where they pledged their love, but her father, the Town Drunk had other plans than

“Have we entered some sort of Parallel Universe, again? Is there a Temporal Loop on its way, or do we really have to hear about two wayward kids, who think love is a four-letter word, with them holding hands, and skipping stones, and my Lord, just who are you anyway?”

“Healy and Clear were just like any other young people growing up in the way-out of Alaska. Healy was a stubborn young man whose dreams encompassed taking it on the road to points south, making a name for himself just like that Moose Tamer from the right side of the Ural Mountains, Jari, uh something or other! It was a name that everyone knew and admired, but when he found out that his Gal, Yrsulla had been seen behind the Cotton Candy Machine, her fingers sticky, and ready to lick, with the Snow Cone Man, Ice-Bob, he lost his wingnut and threatened to

“-But how does this relate to us “Doing it” in the shade of the Kumquat Trees out back where the Southern Exposure allows me to sun myself, without having to pull my winter jacket aside for 15 minutes, then the other side, 15 minutes, before

“I would not admit to sneaking a peak, but those twin lovelies are a sight for this boy’s sore eyes, especially after you punched my lights out when you said,”No Peeping Allowed” and then all I had left was the memory of those shining mountains, just around the corner from Healy, which by the way, got its name from

But Clear wouldn’t hear of it! She was a level-headed girl who aspired to be “Miss Denali” the yearly event held in McKinley Park! She wanted to Strut her stuff, but Healy was jealous and only wanted her to Strut her stuff at a little Motel on Highway 3 nearby. Clear told him that her “Strut” would only be available for private viewings if and when he made her Mrs Under Healy, and not being just another one of his conquests on this side of

“Was his first name really “Under”?

Well, yes it was, but you know what Lola? I have difficulty deciding if I should use quotation marks within a sentence that is enclosed within quotation marks? Look right here”. Lola could see his dilema, but as he couldn’t spell delima correctly, he had more than just quotation marks to worry about.

She took off her Trench Coat for a minute and  admired herself in the mirror. She wondered how she would look “Doing it“, out where the Caribou and the Moose play, while the cameras were capturing every single, exciting moment of how her body could, but then could they really “Do it” when they were “out there?”

“You see, Lola. You don’t have to worry about a double set of quotation marks, when we are just listening to your thoughts, huh? Maybe we should just go with the “thought – Dang did it again!” thing, then see if it reads better than before?”

He did have that muscular body that made women weep while they “Did it“. Strong and sinuous were his movements, a lean, mean, sex-machine that

“If we have to read your thoughts, couldn’t they at least be about someone in this room?”

In the end, Clear and Healy went their separate ways, but when she was at the Miss Denali Contest, that fated moment when she won the prize, the crown and numerous invitations to meet and greet any number of well-wishers at a little Motel just along Highway 3, where….”Hey Clear! Congrats, you know!” a voice from her past was shouting to her, while she was enjoying her victory and numerous invitations to a little Motel on Highway 3 where,

“Healy is that you?” Jumping off the stage into his strong and muscular arms as he held her gaze in his eyes. Those damned Denali Blue Eyes, she’d fallen in love with those many years ago. They left the lights and action to retire to his car, parked just outside the door bearing the sign, “Free car for visitors to the Little Motel on Highway 3”!

Lola just shed a tear as the story faded to black, while I started unrolling the props for the video-shoot.

Out back, where the snow was brushed away, and the sun shone, as if it were the top of the Conoco-Phillips Building in Anchorage, and the sign in its place “The Little Motel on Highway 3”, with that fabulous Live-Internet Couple, “Clear and Healy!” who today will be “Doing it Live!”, from an undisclosed location near McKinley Park, Alaska!

“I keep telling you that you don’t need to say, Alaska!” said as she dropped her Trench Coat and said, “If you are ready, Healy. I’m ready to Strut my stuff!”

-and I never saw more Clear, than I did, that one fateful day, somewhere in Alaska……

Sprucing Up the Pines

Lola said that I would be the death of her someday, unless I took a course in “Proper Titles for Your Blog, Course Number 56”. The instructor was a local woman, famed in song and story and known for her

“Are you going to fall in love with this woman, who you know in your heart, you have no chance with, even if you were the last two people on this planet, but who you desire all the same?”

“Lola. Would you listen to yourself. I’ve only ever said that I had a way with women, while you have said, “Not a good way,  just a way all the same”. Just because I wow them with my winning smile and fine poetic form doesn’t mean that we are going to do Rumpy Pumpy in the back room, among the erasers and the wooden canes formerly used to demand respect from unruly students.”

Lola thought about how she was raised in the outskirts of Barrow, where the sun never set in the Summer Months, her memories of that event were totally unrelated to the content of this story, but sooner or later, another Temporal Loop would come her way, and change her life forever

“Have you ever been to Barrow in the Summertime?” she asked, but knew darn well that I had, when I was a reporter sent there to do a story about

“I don’t remember that blog?” she said, while I started to comb my hair and spray Cinnamon Gum Scent into my mouth in anticipation of meeting my Teacher for the first time.

“Well, you know how I tend to mix around details and titles on my blogs, making it difficult even for me to make heads or shoulders out of them!”

“Do you think, she’ll wear her hair in the same way that I do, or do you think it is longer than mine, allowing you to wrap it around your

“Lola. Do you really believe that I would want anyone else than you?” said while popping a few Elephant Toothpicks into my pocket, just in case of, well of things happening without either of us expecting them to go in that direction, with her whispering the next title in my ear, while she unbuttoned my shirt and I started to kick off my shoes in anticipation of

“What if, we agreed that your Blog Titles are sufficient to satisfy my wants and needs, thus making it irrelevant for you to waste your time and energy on someone obviously wanting and needing a strong, compassionate man like yourself, who has been wasting his time, pitying the woman who was not the mother to his children!”

-and with that said, Lola ran out of the room, crying uncontrollably and wishing we never had gone down that road in the first place.



Lola just looked over at what I was writing and said, “Don’t you think you portrayed me just a bit too sensitive in that last scene? I know that you don’t want anyone else but me, but it does make for a good story, doesn’t it?”

I agreed. I suppose we just want to make each other jealous when we don’t feel like we are getting enough attention, or something.  It seemed like a cheap shot, acting as if I was going to be unfaithful to her, just to make the story more interesting, while I knew that I would never find anyone so special as what I’d found with Lola.

I just went outside for a breath of fresh air, sprucing up the pines a bit as if they really wanted to be in the genus Pinus instead of Picea any day! Lola just looked at my work and asked if I was confusing Tsugas with Piceas, but I felt as if I could identify the Hemlocks from the Spruces with a little luck and the USDA publication: Common Trees of Alaska!

When we had done the Hemlocks and the Cedars, we came to Alaska’s State Tree,

Sitka Spruce – Picea sitchensis.
“Oooh Baby!” Lola cooed to me. I love it when you speak Latin to me…Just think about that Swedish Fellow, Linnaeus, and his…
“Uh Lola. Do you really think that our readers are going to be interested in this High Brow Stuff?”
She wasn’t sure, but what was more troubling to think about is why the line-spacing suddenly got so close, without any warning whatsoever! “I almost feel like my clothing doesn’t fit right anymore” said as she slipped into something more comfortable, or was it slipped into something less than, oh shoot! Now this is really getting to be close-quarters, and
“Don’t you think it was when you started writing about Trees, then the whole place got all cramped and everything?” said Lola while ducking her head, lower until she laid it on my lap. “This is nice” what do you think?” Normally I would have agreed, but I had to loosen my collar, then my belt, before I got squeezed into
“Why don’t we just hop down a line or two?” she said, while I felt like I could breathe again.
I thought if we ended this blog here, the problem would be solved next time, but

Ursula, or was it Yrsulla?

Some people might think that the life of a Moose Tamer from this side of the Ural Mountains was all fun and games, but actually the reverse were true.

“I really like how you’ve placed the subjunctive form “were instead of was, which really shows me that Juri, or Yuri was the right name for the right kind of guy that was banging the Lion Tamer’s daughter, without having her father look down from heaven with disdain”. -(pan to father looking down from, or up from with look of disdain, or pleasure, depending).

Yuri, or Juri’s love of his life was named Ursula, or Yrsulla who came from the other side of the Ural Mountains, and didn’t care for people like his ilk, no matter how much their muscles rippled in their shirts, or how adept they were with their tongue, while slurping up a special noodle dish, “Lapsha” famous for its slurping tendencies in that area of

“What do you mean by him being adept with his tongue? Do you honestly think that women are really concerned what their lover’s tongue can do for them? (while noting in a small notebook this note: adept with tongue, don’t disregard it until it is tried!)

Aw come on Ursulla, you know how a mini-sex sideline in any story creates the want and the desire to read on, no matter who is doing the tongue-work, and who is on the receiving end! Remember how you once told me that instead of being attracted by  person’s face, or his smile that all those psychological journals tout today, the more important thing was how a man could crack a sunflower seed shell, and extract the seed without it ever leaving his mouth? “Any man that could do that, and slurp Lapsha with the same instrument, was one to hold onto no matter what! Don’tcha remember saying that, huh Lola?”

Lola just sat there with an enormous hankering for a bag of unshelled sunflower seeds, but tried to stay on the subject of this blog, which was fading quickly, and not too silently if you catch my drift?

As I backed into reverse to see how my life had unfolded to this point in time, I inadvertently backed over a

“Are we in a car now? A Moose-Mobile or something? To say “the reverse was true” is just an expression. A Metaphor if you like, but we all know how you’ve never passed the course Metaphor 101 at Homer Junior College!”

As I got out to see what I had hit, there was a woman sitting on the side of this memory, who turned away the minute I looked at her with my suave and sophisticated “This side of the Ural Mountain” eyes and said, “Hey Baby. What’s a sweet and sour kind of number like you doing here in the reverse of my life story of fun and games?”

She just looked at me as if I were a Cossack, or something instead of being a mild-mannered, but passionate hot-lover of a Moose Tamer from this side of the Ural Mountains. I asked if she wanted to see my birth certificate, or look up my old address if that got me anywhere, but she just spat on the ground, while I thought that we were getting somewhere with each other.

“My Grandmother” I started to say, “My Grandmother used to make Lapsha noodles for me, when I was a young man growing up in the Steppes of Los Angeles. She would light the wood stove and set about her work, while I tried my best to slurp up the noodles to the best of my ability, but I knew that

“Is Yrsylla really buying this story, or are we in some sort of parallel reality story inhabited by Dirty SciFi Buddhas and Men of Little Fear(s), or something?”

I represented what she just said, but continued on anyway:

My Grandmother used to tell me, “Don’t mix the white Lapsha Noodles with the Black Ones, or she would be forced to hang a sign outside her house saying, “Wanted a grandson with the right kind of stuff” loosely translated from Russian, which could have meant a score of other things, now knowing what I never learned about not learning Russian when I was young as a child!

Yursylla just looked at me and said, “If you back up just a bit farther, then I can move my left foot in order to kill you within an inch of your miserable, lowdown, polecat kind of existence, winning back the respect of my family, who swore on my mother’s grave back in the Old Country to wrong the rights, or right the wrongs, that Moose Tamers from the wrong, right side of the Ural Mountains, have caused with their evil seed removing talents!”

From that moment in time, we were inseparable.  With her trying daily to kill me, while I used the minutes in-between to show her my talented way of removing sunflower seeds out with my tongue, just like they did back in the old country!

And with that said, I can end this retelling of my life story with the standard call of my people:

Hopla!

The Blues Sung by One Lone Alaskan

“If you mention, or try to work it into a sentence, any kind of casual conversation, or reference to a certain mountain of 6190 meters, saying that my bite-away underwear or any other word, phrase or wording there of, then you’ll be sleeping, not only in another bed tonight, but in an entirely different Borough! And that is my final word on that subject!”

I just sat there, trying to tune my two-string Ukulele, which by rights should have had 4 strings, but, well Lola was having this heated conversation with someone, but we were just two people in the room at the time. The plan for the day was to drive into Homer and visit Armand at his TrueValue Ironmongery and…

“Who in their right mind calls it an Ironmongery?”


“dealer in iron-ware,” source etymology dictionary, online


We had planned on buying some paint to spruce up the old pine paneling with their Classic Oak finish and Cherry wood, type of

“Are you just seeing, how many different types of wood name you can put into this story just to increase the number of words and symbols in this story?”

“No.Lola. I.am.not.doing. just.that.

Lola just shook her head, while I noticed her hair moving around in slow-motion. We could have been walking along the gravelly shores of the Lower Kenai Peninsula, where our feet were touching each other in the shallow tides, and we felt as if we were in love again, just like the first time! The drift wood made the best background for the picture, while the water had just a hint of Denali Bl….

“What did you just say?” What in the world, just came out of your mouth towards me?”

“What did I tell you in no uncertain terms, not to say in my presence ever again? Well?”

Lola seemed a bit testy again, about something, she said to someone else, just a while ago in,

“Oh, were you talking to me back there in the kitchen? Golly Gee and Shazam – Sergeant Carter!” Come on Lola let’s not fight OK? It’s just a color, isn’t it?”

Lola had put on her earmuffs with built in Blue tooth technology, which I was about to ask which Blue it was, but thought that we’d better get on our way to town seeing as how the blog was nearing the halfway point, with us just discussing silly things and

I steered the Caribou Cart in the direction of Homer and put it on Automatic Pilot (tied the reins to a stick ) while I worked on tuning my Ukulele, and Lola was listening to her favorite Podcast, “The Life and Times of Temptation’s Own, Jack T. Ribbons”.

I gave a friendly wave over to the neighbor, Miss Cary Beau, who only saw me in the Cart, looking rather lonely, but handsome as anyone who she had become sweet on, and wanted to get as far as she could into my pants and out to the other side, when…

Lola just looked up, but didn’t see anyone about, but had a funny feeling anyhow!”

When we got into town, I had a powerful thirst, but Lola wouldn’t hear of it, especially before we had chosen the proper color for our painting project.

Armand met us at the door and gave me a great, big kiss, and Lola a small pat on her head. He had a fabulous Ascot on, which had some sort of indiscriminate Bluish Color, but Lola only shot her “I’ll kill you-look” which made us look to the other side of the Spectrum instead. Armand asked, “perhaps a delicious Indigo, or….Chartreuse, perhaps?, then left us to our own resources, while he made us each a glass of carbonated Tundra Tea, with just a hint of Blue D, uh I mean, it was a bluish color, of sorts.

Then Armand said, ” I have a big surprise for you two. Meet my brother from up north, Lou Denali!”

Louie, to his friends, had just been vising a few weeks before he had to return to the north, where he lived near some sort of high mountain, whose name escapes me at the moment. He told us that his nickname was Blue Louie, and while I was shooting the breeze with him Lola just looked at me as if


“Are you way off your nut, or what?” she said, but I just wrote that in my notepad, “famous things to remember, when Lola said…”

“Do you really think, I cannot read you like a dirty book?”

I honestly thought that “The Life and Times of Temptation’s Own, Jack T. Ribbons” was suitable for all audiences, possessing a PG-rating,  but he did seem to possess a colorful way of expressing himself. He might have named it, Blue, uh.,well, Come on Louie, help me out here, won’t you?”

Louie just grabbed my Ukulele, and then the musical instrument, and said, “You’ve Got the Blues, Man. Real bad-like and everything! Shall we sing them together, while your old lady chooses a color that she likes, before you go and put your foot, with that shoe of that most lovely, Blue D. color and…..

We were really Waylon our hearts out on those two strings, when Armand came up to us with tears in his eyes, saying, “Just like Mama used to sing to us boys when we were young, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how to sing the Denali Blues?”

I was still humming that song as we drove home again. Lola was making light conversation, which meant that she was snoring in a lady-like way, while I admired the largish can of paint, with the color Denali B…….

Lola just looked up at me and smiled, which shows you what a good stiff drink can do, while me and the boys discussed the various shades of Denali Blue and their implications in the roll-model of the modern society, as we know it….

-and we sounded so good, as we played with my instrument…..

-and the Ukulele sounded good, as well……

28 July 2018

Make My Piece of Cake, A Big One

I used the biggest knife I could find, but it seemed as if, I couldn’t slice all the way through.

“Lola! Have you seen my knife? The big one with the edges that provide for maximum comfort and ease of entry, while allowing for maximum penetration to the center of the

Men. She thought. Always worried about maximum penetration, while forgetting about the beginning, the journey, and the after climax of the moment. Why was the main event so important, if it only lasted for a few seconds while he

“Lola. Are you getting lost in your thoughts again? Here am I in the flesh, waiting for you to fire the starting pistol, allowing me to pleasure you in countless ways and, “Hey. Is that a piece of last night’s cake! I thought we had eaten our way through the sweet stickiness, while

I’ve gathered all of you here today, to consider my proposal of moving Mt Redoubt to another location, utilizing the “knife in the cake method” to get the job done.

She just stood there, a long pointy stick in her hands, showing us the finer details of the moment, while she unbuttoned her blouse a bit, and fanned herself saying ” My Lord it certainly is hot in here. Is there a man in the house that can cool me down?”

Cooling down was a talent, I’d possessed my entire life. In the heat of the most long-awaited and penetrating moments, I could turn the situation around from “Yes Yes Oh My God Yes to….

If we start to the south, and start cutting right here…Our eyes followed her movements as the crouched down, allowing her eyes to follow the line drawn along the base of the Volcano, licking her lips at the thought of its cool sweetness, allowing her to

“Where is this blog going?” Lola just sat there and fanned herself while I felt perfectly cool and composed, juggling ice-cubes in the air, while the refrigerator box attempted to imitate the best time of the year, An Alaskan Winter Summer’s Day!

The rest of the class was moving in the opposite direction, not one of pleasing her, but one of trying to get her inner Volcano to erupt in waves of passionate ecstasy!

“What I need, is a man to satisfy my needs”, which is why I had signed up for that course in the first place: Satisfying her needs, 101 at Homer Junior College and Cake Bakery Class!

I couldn’t decide if cake was indeed the way to her satisfaction, or if I needed to take other measures in use in order to attain the most perfect cake, she’d ever eaten before!

Lola looked uncomfortable when I mentioned that last piece of cake from our sugar orgy the night before.

“Do you really want to go down that way again? The list of ingredients, the oven warming in the background, while you discovered that we didn’t have enough sugar in the house to satisfy me for more than 7 seconds when the final penetrating moment was at hand”!

I had actually timed it to 12 seconds, but it seemed as if she wanted more sugar, which we didn’t have, making the whole recipe seem a bit lackluster and unsatisfying to say the least!

When the knife reaches the middle, it will start to heat up, so you’ll need to continue quickly before the magma melts your fondest desires with upwards of 1300 degrees F. deep inside her mountain, where

“Maybe if you took your time and sliced with a bit more conviction, the whole recipe would taste better for the both of us at the same time!”

Lola had tried tactics like that on me before, but I was slow to change, and quick to react when the deciding moment came at last.

“How quickly should the cake enter the oven. how long it should remain, and how often should you check it by removing it then placing it back inside will determine the final taste and degree of satisfaction for the both of you!”

I liked the revolving door between the Cake-Baking Class and the “Slice through a Volcano in your spare time Course”, allowing me to poke my head into another subject, and let it rest there a bit, before returning to

“Are you certain, you are not referring to something else?” Lola’s words cut into me, making me want to taste that last piece of cake, before collapsing into a stupor of her sugary delights.

“I’d like to see what kind of grade you’ll be getting, when that course is just somebody else’s bad memory, and I’ll be hoping to sample a cake that will satisfy my own tastes a bit longer than than those 7-12 seconds of your ultimate pleasure.

“And I do mean your pleasure, alone….”

 

Hunting the Elusive Blue Rooster

Every hunter has a story to tell, don’t they? The fisherman who almost caught the winning fish, or the next door neighbor, who almost caught her husband with his pants down. This is their story. This is what will tell the world what goes on in the mind of the hunter. What some might call “Killer Instinct” is no more than exists in each and everyone of us. Something waiting to come out and show its true form. Something that

“I just love Nature Documentaries on TV, don’t you too Bunky?”

Lola was surrounded by her friends and family telling them about the time, she hunted the Elusive Blue Rooster on his home turf, waiting and watching until he came out of his hiding place, pointing her rifle and then…..

They oohed and aahed, when she regaled them with her tales of the pride of the hunter. The crispness of the morning dew, the shiny elegance of her twin barrels, pulsing in anticipation of

“I don’t know about you, Bunky, but this is beginning to sound like that YYY-channel we stumbled across, when that big storm hit us last year, Remember that?”

I just nodded and thought about her twin barrels, pulsing in anticipation of, of, but how did the story continue? Was she really in search of the Elusive Blue Rooster, or was it just a romp in the hay, with the ranch hand named Eb, who

Her family wanted to know how many barrels the Blighter got shot with? Was it between the eyes, or did you put him down where he lived? The cousins danced their little dance around the living-room while the nephews sang a lonesome song, about how he had gotten his feathers ruffled by a woman, no less. “Lola the Hunter with her Bowie Knife and Amazon Clothing, waiting to crawl along any terrain, catching that Blue Devil with his feathers down, making life good again for every self-respecting Canadian who

“Why do you keep kicking those Canadians, Bunky? Is there someone in your past, you haven’t been telling me about, or is it her name you whisper late at night when

The Blue Rooster had made life difficult before. Lola followed his tracks to a known hiding place, but they ended there. It was as if he had changed his colors from red to blue, thus erasing his past with one fell swoop, taking his wares elsewhere to peddle and tempt unsuspecting women with, promising them everything with his light poetic style, and ability to woo the most unsuspecting of the

“Tell us again, how you found him in the end?” the squeals of the assembled company, waited with bated breath while Lola pulled out her pride and joy, the one gun that could stop an imitation Elephant dead in his tracks, while he would be sitting on the sidelines, having a non-smoke, while his double, would get it right between the eyes! “Cut” yelled the director, a Caribou of sorts who didn’t think that the Elephant Actor played his part with enough realism to

“I don’t know about you Lola, but I am pulling for this Rooster Guy. Perhaps he is just misunderstood, or something like that?”

“You are always siding with the Wusses in this world, aren’t you? What do you really know about him, huh? He might be sleeping with your Gal right now – looking over her shoulder into the bedroom, but not seeing anyone in the act of

“Lola. It isn’t just the Wusses I support, but what if he had an explanation about certain unfortunate events that caused women to

“There you have it Bunky. Something that caused Women to….That says it all without saying anything. He is obviously some sort of sweet-talker, who lures women into thinking that he likes them, and then Ka-Bango! Somebody ends up Pregnant!”

I was wondering how she’d react when the autographed picture of him came in the mail? “Uh. It must be some sort of Postal Virus that sneaked over the border from Cana…, Uh. I mean. Well, a nearby country next to Alaska, not having a common border of water.”

Lola just looked from me to, well me and said, “We are never going to finish this story now, are we?”

She just put her guns back in the Gun Room and packed her Cardboard Family Photos back into their box, with just her 30-30 Winchester left to tell its story:

“It was an early morning when I finally caught up to him. He had been using his time, seducing his Blog-Women with his words, but before he could check out his “likes”, Ms Lola here, caught up to him and pointed her gun, smack dab center where he lived! He just backed up against the wall, while I plugged his pride and joy with my hot lead…...

“Ka-Bango!

-and then it became still. Deathly still…….

Doing What You Did, Doing What You Do

Lola did a quick Title Check, and after shaking her head, and brushing her hair, letting it swirl about in slow-motion, so she could get my attention, which she did, and I wanted to, but she didn’t, which left me with unfulfilled hair-swirling deficiencies,which

“Do you see now, why a Title Check is necessary? You go off on these tangents, and lose your three main readers, Little Fears, Dirty SciFi Buddha, and Caribou Crossings in the process.”

I really thought they’d keep on reading regardless, but I have been wrong about those things before. There was that unfortunate incident with that Canadian Girl, who

“Bunky. Bunky. Bunky. Are we going to dust off those old memories again? Can’t you just let the past be the past and embrace the present and the future?”

“Now look at that title, it reeks of

“What about that volcano on Hawaii, huh? All that action and we are just sitting her on our seismic cracks wondering if anything should be done about them, what we have done before, or want to do in the future!”

Lola just looked at me and wondered how we ever got together in the first place. Was it the time he father held the shotgun at him when Lola said she had gotten pregnant, but it wasn’t him, pointing at me, the only one present for miles around, after he had caught us spending an innocent night together with the curtains closed and the door locked!

“Those bears are tricky devils” I said and started to explain how they were adept in running, climbing trees and picking locks as shown by

Her father wasn’t much for long sentences, or cryptic titles, that alluded to something else entirely. He had taught her that boys just wanted one thing, which is why she, on her Sweet 16th Birthday, was given a super-effective gun cabinet, painted with white rabbit enamel, and sporting Caribou flourishes. I remarked how sexy she looked when posing next to her gun cabinet, but she just blushed and lowered her guard, which is how her father caught us, when we were

“It wasn’t my guard that was lowered, but

Maybe it was the time when she was on that course in Anchorage. She was thinking about some sugary dessert, when the waiter dropped his tray, making him look up at her from the floor with his big, innocent eyes, and saying, “Sorry Ma’am, but I lost my cookies, when I saw you coming towards me. I’d never seen such a pretty girl before”, which is what my father told me to say, if I was ever to get anywhere in the world with women. The first thing is to compliment them on their smile, or their eyes, then say something else they won’t believe, while they are giving you the once-over and wondering if you are any good in bed!

We just sat there, eating chocolate chip cookies and talking about silly things, like Giraffes and Caribou, and did she know of a place nearby that sold Moose Meat, or Elephant Toothpicks? We laughed until we cried, but her father might have said at that juncture to remember to ask if he had protection with him, or else he would have to point his shotgun at me, ending up where most of this explanation started out!

Lola just looked at me and sighed. She wondered, if she had really met me on that field trip to Augustine Island, where we were going to pitch our tents on the sides of that active volcano, which was the thing to do in that part of the country. Every time an earthquake shook us, I’d tell her that it was my heart beating for the likes of her, while she said it was due to the Lithosphere of the Pacific Plate thrusting under the North American Plate down the Subduction Zone under the Continental Crust. I said, “Almost the same thing” making her see that I was not like the other brainy boys she used to hang out with, but

Lola just looked at me and sighed. She wondered if using the same into in this next sentence would shake my foundations a bit more, taking us to the conclusion of this post which didn’t even have a plausible title to begin with.

“What about that volcano on Hawaii, huh?” which was my way to end this blog. We really hadn’t addressed why Kilauea was so active these days, but then Stromboli on the other side of the world was just as pesky, wasn’t it.

Then the bears had been blamed, and her father had threatened me in at least 3 different paragraphs, but we don’t need to air all of our dirty laundry at one time, now do we?

Lola just looked at me and sighed, wondering if the next title will actually have anything to do what the blog was talking about, and hoped to God it didn’t……