Wednesday, May 04, 2016

Bleach Bardo Babylon

Without disclosing sensitive information that might enable our dear reader(s?) to locate The Misters and -- heav’n forfend! -- The Smee, let us make plain that The Smee and his MIster-ish entourage did in fact de-camp from _______ and installed themselves temporarily in ________, a sort of Babylon from which delivery is prayed for and pizza delivery is possible.
Lost in this bleached Bardo (the house was white inside and out), The Misters and the Smee spent what they now refer to as The Interregnum with a host of new neighbor-characters:
To the immediate North of the new Smee-Central lay the house of Catering & Crack (we suspect, based on the covered trays oft-loaded into the SUV and the micro-short “visits” made by unsavory gentlemen in lifted, weathered trucks).

To the south lay a cyclone-fenced fortress oversaturated with cars and four generations of women who would crowd in the kitchen (the room closest to our side) to partake in the daily, day-long ritual we came to dub “The Talking.” 

[What’s this got to do with The Smee? This post is far too Misters-centric! --ed.]

[Then cut it off, why don’t y--








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