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UNDERWIRE OPINION
/ EDITORIAL
JUSTMEMIKE Oh
geez, will you look
at the time! The year is coming to a close, and my
Editor has been sending me those ominous notes he
favors. "You Have Mail" is the latest form of
torture as his e-mails sail into my office, one
after another. "Copy! Where's the damned
copy?" I can hear his voice, trying to either
coerce or cajole me. That gruffness is filled with
alacrity and alarm, cigar smoke, and a hint of the
glow produced from the bottle of Jack Daniels he
keeps hidden in the bottom right drawer of his
desk. If you must know, he's insatiable.
Since I intend to keep my
by-line in this brand-spanking-new E-paper, it will
be best if we just get right into the breast meat
and potatoes of the actual column. So that's enough
about me, now let's talk about you. "'Twas
the weekend before Christmas, and all through the
house, not a creature was stirring, not even a
mouse." Actually, we aren't discussing someone's
house, or even someone's mouse. Our field of
dreams, the BEA Forum, is, of course, not a place
of action or deeds of any kind. It's a place of
ideas and contemplation and words to stir feelings.
The BEA citizenry were stirred up and feeling
anxious. It wasn't Santa they were waiting for.
A solid fortnight had gone by
and we hadn't a hint of an update from TW. The guys
were so strung out that some Forumites had taken to
imagining how TW should pose his bounteous ex. And
then, kaboom; along comes Pam, purported to be the
actual de-cloaked TW ex-girlfriend. The pictures
were posted by a "TW". But all was not well. Were
unscrambled Pam and the TW girl one and the same?
Not exactly. A firestorm of written rage,
and delusory proof stemming from hand comparisons,
watch comparisons, and even scrambling
comparisons led to
name-calling; some vile comments emerged
in the Forum, leading to verbal brushfires
requiring an extinguisher. A person named
Bossman became part of the puzzle.
Contra-arguments and
diametrically opposed scenarios raced into
Forum life only to be snuffed out by
another more or less compellingly argued
point. Instead of the unassailable proof
we craved, we ended up with something
else. Do the words "chaotic conditions"
come to mind? Exactly! Yes,
we all saw a lot of Pam. I
actually saw more than I was
comfortable with. Pam was
initially thought to be TW's ex.
That turned out to be untrue. But
we do have this name: Bossman.
Whoever he is, he's no friend of
womankind. Stealth pictures, then
public disclosure. Somebody will
recognize her, while his face is
carefully shielded in every
photo. Whatever happened between
Pam and the Bossman was never
meant to be private. More like a
private joke, which he then made
public. I, for one, am not
laughing! Everyone
is on tenterhooks. The news concerning Jacko's date
with the Lovely Lady With the Large Bosom is still
out of view. We've no idea if the debut date
occurred, succeeded, or crashed and burned. Wasn't
it the Judge who offered the best and most devilish
game plan, involving a maitre d` at El Swanko?
"Oui, Monsieur Jacko, your table is ready; follow
me." Alas, Jacko appears to have
gone to ground. We may never get to hear the
skinny. Maybe he was given the gate for misuse of
his salad fork. I hear that Judge Oaf's bailiffs
will conduct a series of door-to-door
interrogatories at some of the finer caloric
partakeries; some news may yet emerge. Stay tuned.
Have
the Hungry Hounds of the Archive Forum scared away
Mrs. Addie Thomas nee Addie Prey of Paper
Moon fame? The now-mature lady in question
dropped into the Forum with a stunning
announcement: "I have huge breasts; they are the
size of watermelons!" Little did she realize that
this annunciamiento would lead to "You Have Mail!"
So it came to pass that she
was immediately besieged with numerous requests to
get those hangers into someone's viewfinder and
produce the visual evidence ima, which means
now, at once, or immediately in Osaka. Denizens of
our community are still hopeful. But the window of
opportunity appears to be sliding shut, and high
interest will soon vanish if those babies are not
hauled out pronto for our civilians to inspect and
chat about. Another
issue that wears the mantles of being off-topic and
unwanted is the one about Chicks with Dicks.
Marauder, known perp of this transgression, 'fessed
up. He was making a point and argued pictorially
instead of using the usual foot-in-mouth method (as
utilized by Jake, who said "I managed to convince
her to get implants," then took umbrage when
Forumites took him to task). Marauder has regained
a safe but tenuous good standing in the community,
which primarily agreed to Nix Chix Dix Pix
! Are
you seeing the pattern here? Do certain BEA posts
drive you up a tree? The easiest thing in the world
is for some drooling keyboard pilot to hunker down
and spin out some gossamer-winged tale about the
Empress's bare breasts. Well, until we see these
global-sized globes it's just another fleet of
naked E-Cup dreams that have foundered on the rocky
shoals of a wayward fantasy. Wakarimas-ka?
(Do you understand?) Do you agree? I think you do. After the
next post leading to abject and profound
disillusionment or puzzlement or even anger, let's
not storm off in a torch-bearing rage, waving our
arms, gesticulating wildly, chanting obscenities,
and hurling objets d'art at each other. As Mick
Jagger once told us, you can't always get what you
want, so lighten up, live with it, and chill!
I personally will just kick
back and wait for the next dream or next talking
missile to be launched and come into focus. There's
always another incoming item to wait on, and that
Jack Daniels in the desk drawer down the hall might
be unguarded just about now. 'Twas the night before
Christmas and... well, what do you know? Old Santa
finally did arrive with presents. Who was the BEA's
Santa? Why, it was TW himself who presented us with
two more pictures of his ex-girlfriend with her
superb holiday ornaments! I guess now I'll go have a
taste of that smooth Tennessee mash. Good cheer to
one and all. Sawatdee Pee Mai! That's Thai
for Happy New Year. You dont speak any Thai? Don't
give it a thought. Forget about it, or just say
Mai pehn rai! |
