Tuesday, March 17, 2009

of Chordates, Libertines and Growing Noses

Half heartedly watching the Japanese film "Tonari no Totoro" while being somewhat distracted by the swarthy carpet cleaner as he rapped along to DMX in Farsi with his headphones on, I sat in the "Geppetto's workshop" themed rumpus room at Mt. Varnum this morning flipping through photos of a recent trip abroad. Finding a particular pic of the curious inscription found above the entrance of St. Madeleine's church, at Rennes-le-Chateau, France that reads: 'Terribilis Est Locus Iste' (roughly translated by many as "Dreadful is this Place"- inside there is an even more intriguing sculpture of the Devil holding up a holy water font)
I realized that not only is the very same inscription is written above the door to the kitchen of my dear friend Mazeppa, but it also occurs to me that I had not spoken to Mazeppa in a few weeks, I also can't remember whether or not we are "speaking".
My contemplation was briefly interrupted when Mahmoud, the carpet guy, looked up and removed his earphones saying, "Wait a minute, didn't I see you on TV as a counter protester at Paul Harvey's funeral?" (The depraved, hate besotted fools from the Westboro Baptist Church - the kooks who show up at the funerals of fallen soldiers with their "God Hates Fags!" signs -picketed Saturday afternoon's funeral of radio legend Paul Harvey so a bunch of us showed up to protest them)
"I remember you had the sign that read 'CTHULHU HATES CHORDATES' right?" As an answer I lowered my eyes and blushed while a brief smile flashed across my face, my thoughts then returned to the matter at hand, Mazeppa.
As you know I am devoted to the old girl, but several weeks back we were close to having a terrible row about a recent lapse in her judgement. I am afraid I might have thrown what they call a "Hissy" ... I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I was totally negligent when the following happened.
When not being chauffeured around in the Duesenberg, Mazeppa drives an E-240 Mercedes-Benz, a few weeks ago she took it in for a service.
A few days later she noticed something odd. The 'E-240' badge above the right brake light looked different. Specifically, it now read 'E-420'.
Wha?! Exactly. The 420 is a more expensive model than the less powerful 240. My sometimes status-conscious friend was naturally thrilled with the change."I much prefer the new number," she told me with a wide lipsticked grin. "Bu...Hav...Ma...Is it even your car?!!"
"Yes. Well, I mean, I think so."
"Did you tell them about it? Have you told anyone about this?"
"No. I don't want them to change it back. Don't mention it to anyone... anyway the man, the Service Manager or whatever, is a rake-hell, a roue and a libertine!" she yelped.
"And a libertine?' how did we come to that conclusion, may I ask?"
"Well, did you see what he was wearing to start with... he didn't offer me a drink while I was waiting, not even a teensy glass of champagne AND he called me by my first name!" she hissed. "Dear, that is his uniform..." I explained. "Oh, yes, well, very sneaky of him to wear a uniform... how am I supposed to know that?"
Sneaky indeed said the pot to the kettle. The car looks looks a lot like her car (apart from the obvious deviation). It even has coins in the little coin...thing.
"They probably just switched round the two numbers for shits and giggles," suggested Monsieur Moose who was returning from the kitchen with some refreshing adult beverages.
"Unlikely, those numbers are welded on pretty tight. And anyway, why would they do that? " I asked.
In the absence of her willing to actually address the issue lest the (fortunate?) error be corrected, Goddess forbid, one can only speculate and hope that Mazeppa doesn't get taken to court. And that if she does go to court I get to take photos.

And now, in honor of Pinocchio's 69th birthday,
Morning Wood
1 oz vodka
1 oz peach schnapps
1 oz orange juice
1 oz sweet and sour mix
1 oz blackberry liqueur
Pour the vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice and sour mix into a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice cubes. Shake well, and strain into a champagne flute. Sink the blackberry liqueur by pouring it at the side of the glass, thus forming a layer at the bottom. Serve.

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zeitgeist, particular friend, perky libertine, animated trickster, iconoclast, rabble-rouser, object of worship, provocateur, capricious damp enchantress, idiosyncratic beloved reptile, whimsical saucy booze hound, bellwether, luminary, stoic, pensive illicit paramour, aloof, engaged, intuitive, curious, perplexing deranged mastermind, passionate, lasciviously adored offspring, amorous, sultry flamboyant charioteer, scholar, scribe, exalted thespian, voracious, considerable chieftain, impaired, cynical colleague, dreamer, procrastinator, loathsome glutton, artist, oppressed peasant, dainty heathen, narcissist, self-loathing...renaissance man