You’re So Right Chronicles – Part III

UPDATE: Since You’re So Right has indicated that his chronicles make themselves up and flow unexpectantly from the ether into his consciousness, I have created a
You’re So Right Chronicles page which one may access by clicking on You’re So Right Chronicles just above the header photo.  Unfortunately, at this point, I must post the Chronicles in one text box.

Yesterday I rented server space from a web hosting company and will be moving things to my own domain, as soon as I figure out how.   I’ll keep you five informed.

You’re So Right

  • June 24th, 2007 at 1:17 pm · Edit

    Part III – Avian Passion Aside: No Means No

    “You, sir, are an anachronism. A stereotype. A figment of someone else’s imagination.”

    With real satisfaction I noted that, like clockwork, the mood change had come just as he drained his second box of Cabernet Classique. He wiped his chin with a tamale husk and turned to consider me more closely. This only redoubled my concentration on a point beyond the horizon.

    “You would be intensely annoying, if it were not for the fact that you don’t exist.” In leaning over to jab my chest with this thumb he kicked the shoeshine boy in the nose. The pathetic figure continued to buff while trying to stanch the flow from a nostril with a polish applicator. My companion tossed a coin in the street and pushed him roughly away. “That’s enough, get lost.”

    He was winding up for a four-alarm rant. I could scarcely conceal my delight. We had been at our usual table on the plaza for most of the afternoon. He had had me shift my chair several times to position my blistered pate between him and the sun and now it was beginning to drop behind the tiled rooftop of the Hotel Central.

    “I suppose it was the pigeon remark that brought this on.” I had to tread lightly, no sense goading him into using the ring.

    “I suppose it was the pigeon remark that brought this on.” He twisted his face into a nasty grimace and raised his voice to a squeal as he did a horrid impersonation of my newly acquired speech impediment. He belched loudly and called for another large box of red wine. “And I want it fresh. None of that old stuff.” He shouted after the retreating waiter.

    “I simply said that the males seem unusually aggressive. In light of the fact that the females are clearly not interested. They should take the hint.”

    “They should take the hint.” Again with the voice.

    “These are not your effete, politically correct, ‘By your leave, missy’ gringo birds!” I tried to imagine the smell of Listerine and failed.

    “These are unspoiled, hot-blooded, revolutionary LATIN pigeons. They see what they want and they take it! They part the feathers and have at it. Your pathetic rules of permissible behavior don’t apply here, Heloise!”

    “No need to get so upset. I only meant that in a civilized, sophisticated, democratic society…”

    “Oh? And where might that be?” You’re referring of course to that little banana republic just north of the border?” He cleared the table with broad sweep of his arm, held the wine over his head and made like a shopvac straight from the spigot.

    “That little republic, for all its shortcomings, is based on the rule of law…”

    “The law! That’s rich! You mean like the ‘law’ in Guantanamo? The Bay of Pigs ‘law’? The ‘law’ that contracted the Kennedy assassination? The ‘law’…

    “Oh, please. Not that Kennedy thing again.” This was going beautifully.

    “Yes, that Kennedy thing again. Do you deny that Kennedy was assassinated by Texas oil businesspersons concerned that he planned to end the Oil Depletion Allowance because he was acting to deneuter the Federal System, through issuance of Executive Order 11110?”

    “OK. So you have a problem with the current administration. The system is designed to deal with that. Checks and balances. How about some of the Democratic candidates? How about Hilary?”

    “Hilary? Don’t make me laugh. Hilary Clinton has gone through so many contortions trying to explain away her vote to authorize Bush’s Iraqi adventure and enunciate her current positions on the war I’m surprised she’s not in permanent traction. She will pander to just about any constituency to fulfill her desire to be president. Which in my book, qualifies her for immediate disqualification.”

    I resumed my serene consideration of the horizon.

    “Bahhhh. To hell with you. I gotta shit.” He threw up his hands in exasperation and started for the facilities. I glanced at the clock on the tower of the Bacilica Paris Hiltona Cathedral and noted it was exactly 5:19 pm. Say what you will about the man, he’s as regular as an atomic clock. Must be all that fresh fruit.

    The entire cantina staff arose and hustled to assist with robes and headdress as their benefactor shambled toward the WC, beads rattling, feathers wafting. My chance had come at last.

    Next Installment
    Part IV – The Condi Man Can



Filed under Iconoflatulence

2 responses to “You’re So Right Chronicles – Part III

  1. safety first

    Who is this guy, Chris?
    Friend of yours from our hometown?
    Sounds like he has an affliction for baked goods.

    Still reading you stuff.
    Signed up a kid for soccer who’s mom you know,Lilia, nice lady. I am going to give her your website address. She says hi!
    Very interesting amigo!

  2. safety,

    How nice to hear from you and that you continue as one of my five readers.

    You’re So Right is a buddy from high school with whom I reconnected at my thirtieth high school reunion and with whom I have remained in contact.

    There were many, many hungover mornings, during our high school days, when he and I would slowly push open the door to the McLean Animal Hospital kennel to an atmospheric cocktail composed of the emanations from the contributions, throughout the night, of the dogs and cats housed therein.

    Don’t worry, he is not from, nor anywhere near, our hometown. Elma is safe.

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