Roxanne Tellier – Stop LYING To ME!

With apologies to Al Franken, I am utterly sick of Lies and the Lying Liars That Tell Them. Sick to death of the posturing, the gaslighting, the sneaky grins that escape their mouths when they think we can’t see them.

Roxanne Tellier – Cogito, ergo sum I think

“So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Another year over. A new one just begun.”  (John Lennon/Yoko Ono)

Roxanne Tellier – Is That You, Rona?

Funny, I always thought that I’d get so much more done. Whenever I felt like I just couldn’t keep up with all of the richness and offerings of modern life, I’d mutter to myself…

“If only time would stop – just for a day or two – and let me catch up on all of this watching, reading, and writing!”

So here it is, and guess what I’ve been doing? Lying on my bed, watching YouTube, playing games on the tablet, and spending quality time with the cats. Between naps.

I have 24 library books here to be read and used for the three major projects I’m working on, but I’ve not opened one of them. Instead I’m storming through my stack of paperback novels, the pulpier the better.  Occasionally I feel guilty about not working on those weighty projects, but then I tell myself that I just can’t possibly start yet, not without that one other book that was on its way before the library so abruptly closed.

I keep busy, no question. And I spend a lot of time wondering if I’m sneezing because of allergies, or because of the coronavirus.

Darrell Vickers – Chapter Twenty – Don’t Forget to Shake That Before You Pour It and The Epilogue

The torpid morning sun had finally come cresting over the garbage-filled Atlantic and the “day of destiny” was upon us.  Carla brought me breakfast in bed.  The girls all rushed out of the room while I was attempting to cut through my egg.  At least the coffee was somewhat drinkable.  I thought they’d run off to lick each other senseless in another room, but I was wrong.  And pleasantly so.  Man, how often does that happen?  Everyone had gotten up early and decorated the foyer within an inch of its life.  As I descended the grand staircase like the price of Facebook stock, they were all standing in line, staring up at me.  I was kind of touched, in a lord-of-the-manor sort of way.  Even my therapist was in attendance.  Behind the adoring and adorable throng, there was a big sign that read, “Happy Bonus Day!!!”

Darrell Vickers – Chapter Nineteen Right Knee…Left Knee…or Wienie?

Now that things were going so well with Ms. Princeton, I felt a little awkward about bending my indoor gardener over the furniture.  Especially, since I no longer had any indoor plants.  I mean, suppose Alchemy and I fell in love in Fiji.  It could happen.  One night after champagne-soaked beach sex, betrothals occurred.  Then what?  If we ended up getting married, indoor gardeners would have to be a thing of the past.  Marriage is like that.

Darrell Vickers – FtN Chapter Eighteen – As Sure As Today Follows Tomorrow

For everyone else in the office, their lives continued to skip through fields of magical daisies.  But not mine.  It is only through a cataclysmic event that you get to experience how truly alone we all are in the universe.  And I don’t mean alone as a person.  It could be a group or a town or perhaps even a country.

Darrell Vickers – FTN Chapter Seventeen Glerm!

Much to the disappointment of my ladies, it was just about quittin’ time in the city.  I had lots to think about.  Well, I had Alchemy to think about but I was going to think about her a lot.  And…I had to do it without my nightly booze-bath.  That was not going to be easy or fun.  But nothing good in this life is ever easy or fun.  I guess most bad things in this life aren’t easy or fun either.  Anyway, back to my point.  Alchemy was worth it.  My Courvoisier swigging lips were sealed.

Darrell Vickers – Chapter Sixteen If You Don’t Like This Nose, You Can Stick It Up Your Ass

Meanwhile Izzy and Rebecca were in Bergdorf Goodman, spending it to the ground.  The entire morning had been a ferocious but fashionable maelstrom of wanton consumerism and torrid homoerotic girlie-groping in and around NY’s toniest boutiques.  Snotty sales clerks gaped and gasped in commission-reckoning amazement as these two sizzling sartorial style-junkies swiped my credit card to the point of it setting it ablaze.  Dior!  Stella McCartney!  Galliano!  Zac Posen!  They grabbed as much cloth-with-a-foreign-name-stitched-on-it as their arms could hold and carted it away to small rooms with poorly measured curtains.  And no accent or accessory was spared.  Izzy was rounding up a large herd of Balenciaga clutch purses when something caught her eye.  She turned to Rebecca and whispered, “Am I crazy, or is that Angela Cartwright and some street bum over there buying up the other half of the store?”

“Who?” asked Rebecca.  Prostitutes don’t get a lot of time to watch late night reruns.

Darrell Vickers – Chapter Fifteen: We’re Here. We’re Here. You Lucky, Lucky People

I’d been doing a little shopping myself.  After lunch, Alchemy walked into her office to find a ‘50s-style leather jacket and motorcycle cap hanging on an antique coat rack.  Next to her phone, I placed the evilest pair of sunglasses I could find.  And in her chair, I put a big poster of Marlon Brando from The Wild One.  Except, I cut out a picture of Alchemy’s face and pasted it over Marlon’s.

When I have a woman in my sights, there are no half steps.

Darrell Vickers – Chapter Fourteen: Ten Pounds of Shit in a Five Pound Bag

Back in the grandest suite that the Four Season’s Hotel has to offer, Angela Cartwright stared at the check while sipping champagne from a long-stem crystal flute.  When that ran out, there was another entire bottle of Dom very-good-year Perignon in the ice-bucket beside her.  This was the kind of establishment that charged north of 25 bucks a mug for room-service coffee in the morning.  This suite was so expensive, if you had a naked Keira Knightly’s open mouth next to the complimentary snack cupboard, it still wouldn’t be worth it.  Punjab certainly knew what it took to impress someone of her stature.  And he wasn’t only impressing her!  Punji was also delighting her famous co-star who was hearing all about it on the other end of a faux daffodil phone.  Only her side of the conversation was interesting, so I’ll spare you Mr. Mumy’s contributions.