At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Thursday, July 10, 2014


As you may have realized if you've read much of my blathering, I will occasionally write or say stuff just to prompt a Kermit The Frog-esque facial scrunch in the members of my audience.

You know, you've seen it before. That quizzical and slightly frustrated 'wassegiemenou' expression.

Yesterday, for instance, I casually mentioned French Cut Panties. Since then, dog-man Richard cannot get them out of his mind. And his features have shown pain. Maybe even angst. Poor man.

Based on my superior knowledge and years of experience, I clarified matters for him.

"Bikini briefs have a low waistband, in contrast to granny panties. French cuts have high leg openings canted forward, and high cuts have deep leg openings more in-tune with a natural design and a waistband slightly on the high side."

"Boy shorts, also called 'tap panties', and 'boy cut panties' are a low-cut style that covers most of the bottom and hips. They resemble boxers slightly, and are both flattering (to some women), and modest, as they do not show the typical pantie line."

I actually don't have years of experience; I just know how to effectively use the internet as a research tool. You do not need to know why I looked up this data.

Richard is a married man, and several years older than myself. It is likely that it has been decades since he gave panties some thought.

Being unmarried, I still have that luxury.

Two ounces Bourbon, a Maraschino cherry, and a dash of grenadine. Icecubes, highball glass. Squirt of ginger ale. Two or three drops of bitters optional.

Today I mentioned the Henry Darger Cocktail to a gentleman who was acquiring a cigar. I also told him the backstory -- Henry Darger was a loner and an eccentric who every day added several pages to a science-fiction novel he was writing, and illustrating, about two pre-adolescent heroines leading a naked slave rebellion in outer space; when he died, it was still unfinished, but over fifteen thousand pages long; to excite the mind of one my readers years ago I fantasized about an off-license where young ladies could smoke a cigar in peace while doing their homework and enjoying a cocktail; several froofy drinks were described, including one of my own devising, named after Henry Darger; all can be served with an umbrella and a Hello Kitty swizzle stick -- and I mentioned that it is a refreshing beverage even if you don't have little cocktail umbrellas and Hello Kitty swizzle sticks handy, whether you are a young lady secretely indulging or not.

He briefly had that Kermit The Frog expression.

Then the novel charm of the idea hit him.

It cured him of his angst.

Pour two ounces of Bourbon over ice in a highball glass. Add a dash of Grenadine and a cherry, then fill it up with ginger ale.

It's very refreshing.

Please note that clicking on links under posts (such as the one you will find below: Henry Darger) will bring up everything in that category on this blog. Reading some of those previous posts might lead you to suspect that I am a rancid old pervert.

Which is incorrect.

I just like seeing you look like Kermit The Frog.

Would you like a drink?

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.



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