just cut around the bad spots and use lots of dressing

saturday UPDATE: The playboy has bagged 1. the cable guy. I flat busted them and had to pretend I didn't have a clue. Also 2. The woman who rents out the PENTHOUSE APARTMENT has signified that she would in no way be adverse to his attentions.
THATS IN THE FIRST TWO DAYS IN HIS NEW DIGS, FOLKS.



This is inlaw week at Rancho FirstNations, I swear. Today we formally moved the Playboy of the Western World into his new apartment. Actually Mayflowers Movers moved him and he and I and one of his fans got in their way. I felt kinda bad for the guys. There you had an older gentleman with a walker who wants to follow you from room to room and tell you the history of all his belongings as you are trying to manhandle them into a large truck, a buxom redskin marshalling everyone around with no very real clue as to what goes and what stays pointing imperiously at piles of trashbags, and Bubba the elderly hippie queen wafting about shouting 'Willie, come SIT DOWN!' while eyeing the smaller 'objets' at arms length over the top of his half-glasses wistfully.

Then the whole circus moved from the four bedroom house to the one-bedroom-and-kitchenette apartment, where pretty much the same activity commenced but in reverse and on a much smaller scale, resembling the 'stateroom scene' in 'A Night at the Opera.'Yes, we were actually clambering over furniture and getting caught in the legs of the walker; it was - meh; it was pretty much a day in the life; actually. It was awfully close quarters. (One of those movers was smelling SO fine. I wouldn't allow the Yummy Biker out of the house wearing that cologne, thats for sure. Not unescorted.) Gotta hand it to them; despite all the 'help' they got it done in two hours and not one single casualty.

The poor movers had to hustle everything up directly through the center of the place using the passenger elevator. (Of COURSE the freight elevator was down.) The lobby filled with residents all discussing the new fish and taking a nice long look at his swag. Oh, the oxygen machines were pumping overtime! Many a pair of Depends' were filled at the sight of all that Mediterranian brass and Haitiian ironwood going past! And they didn't even see the Man Ray photograph. I did. It was nekkid.

We had barely begun to unpack and already two little widows had come in and introduced themselves. I earned myself a shot in the head for pointing out 'Gee! Looks like you're going to get a lot of play here, huh?" rather loudly. Zotz, right in the head. "Yes and thats EXACTLY what I need!" he rejoined.

Later on we sent out for gyros and baklavas and he got the television hooked up. When I left he was watching a soap opera, full blast, standing in front of the screen peering intently at the action, which at this point in the proceedings consisted of "Oh! Anthony! Oh, oh God, yes! Oh, oh, oh yes, Anthony!" Hell, I left the door open. All the way down to the third floor 'Oh, Anthony! oh darling, yes darling, oh, oh..' rode with me.
Oh yes, the Leopold is in for a shakeup.

...And yes, I inherited all the used vegetables.