storeeze

“Fair primrose, we weep to see you fade away so soon”—from Elizabeth Bowen “I feel like this may have been a mistake,” protested Charline. “It’s too fucking cold.” “It's just beyond Fox Park,” replied Charlie. “Are you sure?” “Heard about it from a friend.” Unnoticed and unobserved in the swirling snow, Charlie and Charline stepped around a pile of rubbish in front of a disused warehouse in Old Soulard. The heavy iron door clanged open to a large glowing cavern. Condom on Your Tongue boomed from the walls. Nude models in body paint roamed the floor, stirring the pot for the grand opening of Naughty Gras. Charlie gestured. “Now this is what I’ve been talking about!” “Maybe we should just leave.” “Yours?” “Oooooh no. We can stay here, I suppose. Besides, I have a treat for you,” taking off her coat and gloves. “Dang! I’m shocked by what you can fit in a Winslet,” exclaimed Charlie. “You don’t like it?” she said, feeling cute. “No, you look sexy. Can you breathe?” “Barely.” Four hundr...

CONTENT WARNING:  READER DISCRETION ADVISED “Whilst Man, however well-behaved, At best is but a monkey shaved.” —W. S. Gilbert (1884) What I remember is a  bitter January morning wrangling a junkyard transmission into a ‘53 Packard,  jacked up on blocks. Richie and I should have been trudging through the snow to classes at the U instead of o ur backs jammed against a freezing curb,  lining up an Ultramatic, biggest I’d ever seen.  Two cars rolled up — Alan would come upon you anywhere, anytime, and frequently intoxicated.  “Charlie?”   “Yeah, what?” “Beautiful day, huh?” “What are you doing here?” The transmission teetered. “We got two women and Bunny's pad.” Alan peered under the car. “Back-to-back racks.” “Hold it there, Richie. It’s Alan.” “Not Alan. Fuck no!” grunting disgustedly. “W hat do they look like? ”  I asked.  “Check 'em out,” said Alan.  I edged out for a look. I couldn't place 'em.     Alan fished a loose ...