Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Why, one may ask, everything happen on the same day, and one may also wonder how one handles the input.

In a word: Badly.

There was a house fire twixt Housekeepers place and mine last evening. Bad deal anytime, especially on a holiday.

Then today, a young fellow was deep frying a turkey on the deck. He no longer has a deck. The house is okay, just funny looking without the deck and with the singe marks on the exterior.

The lady with the cable company that I said was nice looking, and if I didn’t, I should have? Umm. The one that said she knew Housekeeper? Yes. Well, I mentioned to Housekeeper that the lady had said that and housekeeper asked a few questions and then asked me what my interest was.

Now I’m a pretty well laid back dude, you know, and without  a great interest in anything other than what makes it work. So I told Housekeeper none, other than wondering who she was because of the way she said she knew her.

Housekeeper said that the lady did, indeed, have children as she had told me, but, said  Housekeeper, the lady is a lesbian. A hard core one at that.

Housekeeper then went on to detail a lover liaison carried on by the lady and her girlfriend on a public park bench. Housekeeper told me she didn’t think the activities she watched should have happened between a man and a woman, let alone two women, on a public place where children could see it.

Hell, she said, it shouldn’t have happened where men or women could see it.

Housekeeper, says I, how much of that did you watch?

All of it, says she.

Oh. Says I.

Housekeeper changed the subject.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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