Some time ago my Fool told me of an aging rock star who loaded up with 100 gallons of expensive vodka, a bucket of cocaine, and a Russian teenager 40 years younger than he was, and took the whole lot off to an Irish mansion, to while away the hours. Apparently his family, worried at the thought of what this combination of things might do to a 60-year old, burst into his love palace and dragged him off kicking and screaming.
The Russian teenager was blonde, so the story goes, although I don't think this has all that much effect on the story. It just makes you wonder what on earth the rocker was thinking of. Who on earth would want to leave this earth, in a blaze of drunken glory, in the arms of a blonde? Well, never mind about that.
I've always rather liked this story and have had it in mind to try for myself one of these days. Not that I am an aging rock star I hasten to add, I am a rock star who is unconstrained by the expectations and limitations of extreme youth. Which doesn't make me old. Not even close. Nope.
Anyway, as I said, I've had it in mind to try for myself, but never before found the perfect partner. This all changed when Supergirl came into my life. Well, to be strictly honest, she hasn't yet come into my life, not as such, but she will when I accost her in the Dancing Goat tomorrow, present her with a bunch of flowers, offer her three weeks of unlimited weed and triple-distilled cider, and haul her off with me to a Rivendell Love Grotto.
I cannot imagine she will refuse the offer. But just in case, I've asked Beorbrand, Carica, Bluebonnet and Anarwald to come along to the rendezvous, not just so that they're implicated and I can blackmail them later, but also to help with any necessary persuasions.
The only possible problem is that I'm not entirely sure what Supergirl looks like except that she wears a nifty supersuit in red and blue. However, I'm quite sure that soul will call to soul, eye will meet eye across the crowded room, and two hearts will beat as one.
(Just to be on the safe side, if you're not Supergirl best to avoid the Dancing Goat tomorrow. Especially if you tend to wear red and blue. I would hate for there to be any unfortunate identity confusion.)
And so I leave my readers with the immortal words: "I am just going off to Rivendell. I may be some time."
Wish me luck.
The Russian teenager was blonde, so the story goes, although I don't think this has all that much effect on the story. It just makes you wonder what on earth the rocker was thinking of. Who on earth would want to leave this earth, in a blaze of drunken glory, in the arms of a blonde? Well, never mind about that.
I've always rather liked this story and have had it in mind to try for myself one of these days. Not that I am an aging rock star I hasten to add, I am a rock star who is unconstrained by the expectations and limitations of extreme youth. Which doesn't make me old. Not even close. Nope.
Anyway, as I said, I've had it in mind to try for myself, but never before found the perfect partner. This all changed when Supergirl came into my life. Well, to be strictly honest, she hasn't yet come into my life, not as such, but she will when I accost her in the Dancing Goat tomorrow, present her with a bunch of flowers, offer her three weeks of unlimited weed and triple-distilled cider, and haul her off with me to a Rivendell Love Grotto.
I cannot imagine she will refuse the offer. But just in case, I've asked Beorbrand, Carica, Bluebonnet and Anarwald to come along to the rendezvous, not just so that they're implicated and I can blackmail them later, but also to help with any necessary persuasions.
The only possible problem is that I'm not entirely sure what Supergirl looks like except that she wears a nifty supersuit in red and blue. However, I'm quite sure that soul will call to soul, eye will meet eye across the crowded room, and two hearts will beat as one.
(Just to be on the safe side, if you're not Supergirl best to avoid the Dancing Goat tomorrow. Especially if you tend to wear red and blue. I would hate for there to be any unfortunate identity confusion.)
And so I leave my readers with the immortal words: "I am just going off to Rivendell. I may be some time."
Wish me luck.
Уважаемые Aegthil,
ReplyDeleteВы глупый мальчик. Вы стояли меня. Я ждал тебя, и ты оставил меня на произвол судьбы! Нет, нет не хорошо Aegthil. Я надеюсь, что вы хорошо.
Supergirl
Pretty sad Aegthil... standing up my personal friend like that.
ReplyDeleteWhat is a young hobbit lass to do, when finding her friend alone in a strange town? We go out for a night on the town! I can speak to Danania's superness - and just perhaps, you've missed your chance (if you even had one to begin with). Someone of her quality just doesn't just fly in on a whim, eh? And don't think someone that awesome doesn't also have a league of friends watching her back...
Bad form sir... bad form. Perhaps I could be persuaded to talk her into coming back sometime - if you can find an apology somewhere in those damn pink pants!
Tomrica
Oh dear. So... if this isn't Supergirl, who is it? Perhaps I should ask.
ReplyDeleteAegthil the Brave