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All posts for the month March, 2013

Alas In Wonderland – A Mad Haters Party…

Published March 15, 2013 by Information General

Let’s take another look at the missing years between the previous posts. As promised there are many a tale to fill the gaps.

The story I will regale you with now, refers to an evening of gay frivolity, of no specific occasion other than fun. The timeline here falls somewhere between now and then and at a time that some unrestrained entertainment was well over due. As was usual, the promise of a calamitous affair was imminent and well planned by the Murphy’s of nature. Sit back and relax as I take you to an evening some time in the past.

It was at this time that my friend drove a very reliable deep maroon red VW Beetle, possibly a 1972, 1600 with back seat belts. You will recall I mentioned that she was a child-minder and this happened to be a pre-requisite of the position. The name of the car, as we all named our vehicles, and still do, escapes me, but this does not take away from the fact that she was well loved, and cared for!61674_10151163219865922_351767250_a

It was decided that an evening spent at the night club of choice was deserved, not that it took very much to deserve this, and so, my friend and as many of the crowd that could force themselves into the tiny little red demon, made the necessary arrangements. Of which, I must add, included purchasing alcohol to be consumed before the time, as it was quite simply the more frugal thing to do! I will not make mention of the amount of alcohol that had been purchased and the number of people it was to satisfy, let’s suffice it to say that they were well lubricated by the time they had arrived at the designated venue.

At this point I feel forced to explain, that they were young and the consequences’ of drinking and driving were not their first priority. With youth comes irresponsibility, as well as a number of other selfish behaviors  which I am pleased to report, are no longer an issue in any of our lives!

Let’s get back to the party at hand. So here they are, at least five or six of them, playing squash in her red VW Beetle, having just stepped out of the club to “whet the whistle” once again at the bar they sported in the car, which had been parked down some dingy alley, without street lights, so as to deflect detection from otherwise prying eyes.

Being well plastered, with music blaring as loud as it could blare from the 60watt speaker, they gaily took from the proffered bottle, containing the alcoholic beverage and mix, while entertaining each other with conversation and laughter. Then, while in mid-sentence, my friend felt somewhat uncomfortable as an uncharacteristically warm sensation seemed to settle in the area of her buttocks. Accompanied was a sensation of smoky atmosphere and the scent of burning fiber  Though there were smokers in the group, none were permitted to smoke in the car, and so the idea of a dropped cigarette was not even a possibility. But as the warm sensation turned to hot and the atmosphere to stifling, it was time to take serious heed of what was happening beneath there buttocks!

As six bodies piled out of the tiny little manicured beetle, one could not escape the flames that billowed from the edges of the back seat! You see, what had happened was that last service my friend had taken the beetle to, had done all the necessary and a wonderful job, but had neglected to replace the battery cover, and somehow the wires had made contact with the flammable fibers of the under-seat and took light!

As with all these unbelievable stories, nothing was damaged beyond repair and no one experienced injury beyond that of a shattered ego!

A mad haters party indeed!

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Alas In Wonderland – From Big To Small And Back Again…

Published March 10, 2013 by Information General

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This tale involves a pair of shoes, revolving door and pockets. If you are in tune with the the calamitous life of my friend, i know you will already have a story mapped out in your mind. I am also quite sure, that when you hear the actual events that took place at this specific time, you will not believe that it really happened. But let me assure you, every word you read, is gospel, and i will attempt to be as accurate as possible.

Time has elapsed between this event and that of when my friend went down the rabbit hole, a good couple years actually, but we will certainly revisit the years missed in future posts, i have writers prerogative and for the sake of continuity, i have chosen this as the next event of which i will speak.

By this time, my friend has grown to a beautiful, if some what hippie young lady, still sporting the voluptuous hips, tiny waist and huge, “come save me” eyes. She dresses only in long flowing skirts and skimpy single strap tops. She does not wear panties, though is forced to wear a supportive bra. You must understand, that this is not as a result of gravity, but rather size. She forms the perfect hourglass figure, if somewhat stout and vertically challenged. We’re in our early 20’s; i say “we” because our birthdays are a day apart. And my precious friend remains gullible, in the most charming way. Pretending to be all grown up, while running amok bare foot all over town, whether at a house party or the mall, she would very seldom be seen wearing shoes. The only time she forced her tiny size 5 foot into a shoe, it was a Doc Martin boot, which was all the rage in the “alternative” life style, and this only happened when going to her favorite night club, where calamity and embarrassing moments were left in her wake. We will revisit these another time too.

For a number of years, there was a tele-marketing company that would call you up and guarantee you a weekend away at some or other resort, for you, your partner and four friends. Sounds too good to be true, well that’s because it was. In order to get your “prize” you had to attend a two hour talk, broken into a one hour collective discussion and then a personal one on one with an aggressive, hard core sales agent. It was only after you had spent this time being brow beaten into purchasing time share, that you were offered a box with a number of sealed envelopes, of which you were to choose one. This one envelope, could even possibly contain a TV, camera and other such items, or just simply the get away voucher. I believe that of the close to 50 000 of these envelopes, perhaps one contained a TV, 2 a camera and the rest the “holiday” voucher. I can hear you saying: “but that’s not a bad deal,” but wait, you’ve not heard the conditions applied to the entire transaction.

  1. You were to get there on your own steam
  2. You were to purchase dinner each night that you stayed there
  3. You had to be at least 26 years of age and a professional of some sort
  4. You had to be married
  5. And of course, both you and your spouse had to make the two hour presentation, which just by the way, took place across town and on specific days

Keep in mind now, that we were in our early 20’s possibly 21 or 22, but when my friend heard that she had “won a weekend getaway”, she was determined to get it! On the spur of the moment, she “confirmed” that she was at least 26 years of age, married and was gainfully employed as a professional, when in truth, she was not married and was employed as a child minder, a nanny if you will, to a lovely family with 2 lovely children and of course, only 21 years of age! She agreed to a time and day to attend the “talk” and now had to find a husband, a professional career and five years, within a four or five day period!

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After convincing a close guy friend to play the part of her husband, she was left with the clothing dilemma! Remember, she no shoes other than Doc Martin’s and though she could somehow pull of the flowing skirts as professional’s wardrobe, how was she to pull off the Doc Martin’s? This challenge she solved by asking to borrow another person’s shoes. She was loaned a pair of pumps, that as it would happen, were at least a size too large. The only reason i think she was forced to wear these shoes, is because i believe that it was a last moment decision and they were the only one’s available.

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They arrived at the designated site, and introduced themselves as Mr and Mrs “whatever”, trying very hard to look like the proverbial, up and coming, young  professional couple. The young gentleman, who happened to be possibly 2 years older than her, was in fact a professional and worked in the IT industry, he also had a more mature face, so could pass for 26, also being in the corporate world, he had a professional wardrobe. But my sweet friend, wore borrowed shoes, her long flowing skirt and a bright cerise pink jacket, as it turned out to be a very cold and wet evening. Shall we call them, The Smith family, for the want of a surname.

So Mr and Mrs Smith, our young professional married couple, arrived about 15 mins late for the presentation and were ushered into a large hall, with lines and lines of chairs facing the front where a person stood giving them the benefits of time share. They seated themselves at the back, as naughty children always do, and chatted and giggled throughout the entire presentation. I neglected to mention that, before they had even left for the presentation, our dear Mr Smith was already well on his way to total intoxication, and he was very funny when intoxicated!

After they had been stared at and admonished for making so much noise throughout the presentation, they were “collected” by a sales agent, who introduces himself and lead the way to the sales office, which was up a flight of stairs. When my friend feels a little out of place, she would hide her hands in her pockets, which is precisely what she did on this specific day, the pockets in her bright cerise pink anorak. While making their way, my friend taking two steps for every one of “her husband’s” and the sales agent, she suddenly realized that she had walked right out of the newly acquired pumps, leaving them in her wake. Quickly she double backed and slipped them back over her tiny feet and rushed to make the stairs before she was to lose the team ahead. Taking the stairs as quickly and safely possible, she proceeded up to the sales office.

Mr Smith explains what he heard next as a “ooh” and dead thud! He quickly turned, leaving the confused sales man to look on in disdain as he made his way to his fallen “wife.” That’s right, somehow my friend had managed to fall UP stairs! With her hands still firmly embedded within her pockets, she was unable to stop her fall and went down / up, face first. She had pinned herself in this rather embarrassing position, as she was unable to remove her hands that were now securely pinned under her! Of course, Mr Smith started to laugh, as he was also familiar with my friends calamitous life, and she could be heard laughing a muffled laugh into the plush carpets of the sales office stairway. Eventually, Mr Smith, being quite a strong young man, physically lifted her to her feet and righted her again, and as though nothing unusual or out of the ordinary had just happened, they proceeded to the designated area with their salesman.

They politely listened to the reasons and counter acting reasons as given by the sales agent, until eventually he accepted that they would have to go home and “discuss it over their finances before making any commitments”. When the agent realized that there was no sales here, he called over to the supervisor, who brought over the illustrious box of prize envelopes and they drew. Now to be able to tell you that they picked one of the bigger prizes, would be great, but also a lie. They were given the weekend giveaway at one of the timeshare resorts they had just declined purchasing. But my friend was happy, she had achieved her objective, and fortunately, not once, were they asked to produce their ID or other personal identification, so they could leave, prize in hand and thoughts of the weekend away!

This time though, my friend held tight to the railing, so as not to fall down the stairs, reached the landing without incident and proceeded to the exit. This door was kept closed by a newly put up hydraulic spring which just pushed it closed if anyone had neglected to pull it shut behind them. She was almost there, the finish line in sight, her “prize” securely stowed away in Mr Smith’s pants pocket, and only perhaps another four regular steps to victory! Mr Smith was leading the way, and reached the door before she had. Being as short as she is, she would quite comfortably pass below the armpit of her close guy friend and often did, as he held various and numerous doors open for her, so as she neared the door, that Mr Smith had already opened , she turned to say “good bye” and … no she didn’t walk into the door, she walked under her friend’s arm just a couple seconds too late! He had already released the door and it had started it’s rapid  return to the closed position. The velocity with which this door hit my friend from behind, propelled her, without breaks onto the parking lot, almost knocking her to her face, but instead she buried her face into the back of her friend, who by standing where he was at that second, saved my friend the pain and embarrassment of the pavement! As though this would have been any more embarrassing than her evening had already been.

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Alas In Wonderland, Down The Rabbit Hole…

Published March 6, 2013 by Information General

It’s been a couple days since i last wrote, the truth is, i was trying really hard to formulate the words to do this story justice. As mentioned in the previous post, i would have to paint an accurate picture, a vivid description  so as to give the truest rendition of these calamitous events.

To understand the relationship between us, you must know that we have been BFF’s since we were 10 years old, that means, that right now, we’re looking at a friendship that has spanned some 29 years! A lifetime for some. And i believe that it is a friendship that will last for many, many years to come.

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Think if you will, the picture of the typical Irish beauty. Fair skinned, dark unruly hair and the biggest of blue eyes, positioned on a very pleasant face covered in freckles. If my friend stood 5 foot at the time, she was tall! At that age, one could already tell that she had been blessed with a beautiful waste, rounded hips and the beginning of full, voluptuous breasts.

Her eyes were framed by long beautiful dark lashes and brows, while her face was encased in thick, dark hair that cascaded in natural curls down her back. This used to be her bane, never really liking the curls, though she would not have been who she was, had she had straight well kept hair. Her eyes were dewy, and always had a tenderness in them that later in life would pull men in by the hordes. Her entire, vertically challenged and rounded body, was covered in freckles, i never thought to at the time, but i am quite sure that i could have played a great game of connect the dots.

Now, if you will, cast your imagination to a tall (for her age) slender girl. Blue eyes and mousy brown hair. Standing at about 5 foot 2 inches i towered over my friend, and would do so every year, as she really didn’t grow much beyond 5 foot 3.5/4 inches, while i grew to just under 6 foot. We were a sight to behold, a feminine and child version of Lorrel and Hardy if you will. I was slender, tall and didn’t have much in the way of curves, though considered pretty, i still had a ways to go, and honestly, would never be as popular with the guys as both she and her identical twin would prove to be in the years that followed.

She was a shy girl, always softly spoken and giggled like, well a little girl, at the words to the Irish song; “My dig-a-ling”, which we only ever listened to when her Mum had gone shopping, leaving us alone to be “naughty“.  She very rarely smiled in front of adults, as she had full braces and was somewhat self conscious of this fact. She was the total opposite of me, quiet, well behaved and not in the least rebellious, whereas i took on the spirit of James Dean after watching the cult classic; “The Breakfast Club” and became the rebel without cause, just because i thought it cool to shock whoever was willing to listen! She would always do her homework, and do it well, while i would get her to do mine when it was more than a week overdue! And when i could not get her or her sister to sit and write the pages and pages of dictation for me, i simply made photocopies of their books and pasted these into mine. I don’t know what i believed would happen with this, but this story remains a source of great hilarity in our circle.

At this time, my family was building our home, a very large house, which i used to explain as “a square, with a whole in the middle and flat roof.” Well this is exactly what it was, the whole in the middle was the pool to which every room opened out onto, one could gain access to the flat roof from a staircase which lead off the pool area. I still do not know why we had a flat roof, though it was later used to tan in the nick.

The house was built with an almost mirrored “cellar” that ran the entire square of the house, with the purpose of allowing the airflow that was created by an under ground duct system, to flow through strategically placed vents in the floor throughout the house. At the time of building, these vents had been left open, with a good 6 foot drop to the floor of the cellar. It was only after the property started looking more like a house that these were covered by grids and later still carpet.

After school, we used to go with my dad, to the house to see how it was coming along, and being children, we would explore the vast caverns of the unknown. On one such day, i had encouraged my dear friend to run with me through the passages of the yet unfinished house. I can’t remember if it was supposed to be a race or we were just working on our fitness levels, but either way, i was the lithe one, fitter and faster due to my build, while she had a somewhat uneasy and slower gait, as her legs were at least one third shorter than mine.

I urged and egged her on, as i took long elegant strides through the 2 meter wide passages, flying over the vents, without much notice. She, being at least half a passage length behind at any given moment, was doing her best to catch up, keeping her eyes with steely focus on my back. Come to think of it, i think she could have been a little afraid of getting lost, like i said, it was a very big house!

I was off, now working my way to the end of the forth passage, when i heard a “umph” and slight squeal. In that moment, i could not think what it could possibly be, or what had created this strange noise, but that was before i heard a small timid voice, calling out my name. Quickly i turned back and ran towards the area i was sure i had heard it, and as i turned the corner, back into the forth passage from which i had just left, i saw it! There she was, my friend, shorter than i remembered her, with her knee right up next to her face and not much else. You guessed it, she was so focused on me, that she neglected to step over the vent, and as it was about 30cm in width, she stepped into it with one foot and as it is with gravity, went down the rabbit hole.

She had slipped all the way down to or up to, her crotch, with only one leg, while the other, not having anywhere else to go, settled next to her ear. To this day, i still don’t know how her body managed this contortion, but it took me a good 15 minutes to extricate her from the predicament she found herself in. And in truth, the reason it took me this long, was because i had no strength left once i could see beyond the tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks. I could see her lone leg, dangling, from a position in the cellar, while i was faced with the vision of her knee and face sharing the same small space above ground. I could hear the strange sound she had made as she went down, and even today, as i write these words, i am laughing at the memory.

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