[ Don’t know where I’m going with this, but I was really stoned outta my skull last night when I composed this savory morsel of absurdity. I invite you, Spurious Reader, to add a paragraph or two to expand the tale to its illogical conclusion: ]
The Amazing Peccadilloes & Bemusing Humiliations
Of Gay Bachelor Raconteur Neville Snidermannington III
“I haven’t stood within 10 feet of a female since popping from mother’s womb!” announces gay bachelor raconteur Neville Snidermannington III, while celebrating his 58th birthday surrounded by buffalicious boys no younger than 14 years of age. Or in IOW: they’ve barely climbed out of the womb themselves.
“Ma-ma’s uterus is the first and last thing I ever care to see of womankind!” Neville adds for resounding emphasis. And his doting admirers applaud.
There is free champagne, petit fours and party favors for all to be had. Neville’s pet rhinoceros lay gloating in a wallow of thick, gray mud under the brilliance of a Brighton Beach sun.
“For such a warm day, I’m surprised no one’s jumped into the pool yet,” thought Snidermannington III as he gingerly caressed his blond-streaked mutton chops in shallow deliberation.
He was but 4-foot-2. The entire world towered above him since the day he was born…and shall remain that way until the day he dies. (Yet, he was nothing like Napolean Bonaparte, insecurity-wise.) So he decided he needs an exotic pet for company. That is how he wound up with the rhinoceros. But once grown to adolescence he’ll have to let it go, realized Neville all along.
But it did not occur to our generous host that the baby rhino lay too close to the Olympian pond for the comfort of his guests. Thus, they all abrogated their nautical passions for a more staid option to chatter amicably within the electrically charged iron gates. Plenty of room and gardens to roam, anyway!
(To be continued, I hope?)