Posted August 13, 2017 (edited) I was a squire once, a skinny shit, really. Some might call me a tang looking for a solid, meaty handle. So that was how I would search my muse out as a young man. In highschool, I fell in love with a tall, thick Norwegian girl. I looked like sandpaper then. Was quick as a mouse, darty, clever, and a deep ponderer, but quite banal in my overall appearance. She, on the otherhand, carried with her, Gothic mystique, took maticulous care of the color about her eyes, the luminous aura of her skin, and had a brilliant gift with changing womens' faces under hours of her make-up brush. Of course, being a secret Tom Savini fan, I was instantly enamored with her. No one at that time recognized this Beauty, too busy with cheerleaders and wasp waisted waifs. I noticed her instantly, and I remember her to this day. While I was small and not much to look at, I learned about the power of my hands (a different story that). I wanted to please this girl. That was my end game .... at 17. How strangely intoxicating these hands proved to be for this wonderous beauty. The way I could mesmerize her like a snake by holding her shoulders. This was the beginning of our forging. I was Merlin, an exotic poet but a bland bird. She, a deitic example of a porcelain titan. Sadly, though, she belonged to another time. She got rich and reknowned. I became archaic and forgotten. I followed a different path, the path of the brujo. Which leads me to the Tale of the Elixir of Tequilla and the Chicken's Wrist Bone. Next on Excalibur ... The last and only time I'll ever get a woman drunk on tequilla was a time gone and spent. Following my natural disposition for voluptuous, pale skinned women, I found this lass, working in a gas station of all places. She'd raven hair, just like my Ghost Crow, skin the white of alabaster, hips the size of Kansas and legs as long as redwoods. Needless to say, she could hold her tequilla ... sort of. She got wild and into a fight with her friend, also an Amazon. I did my best to break the fight up, but I wound up in the back of an old Ford with two elk corpses. I couldn't figure out why they'd cut their hooves off. I'm not a hunter. Soon, strong hands pulled me over the side of the truck bed. I remember my pale beauty telling me that she admired my heroism. "Huh?" "Shutup. I'm gonna fuck your brains out..." Edited August 13, 2017 by Vassago typo 0 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted August 13, 2017 Why oh why did I click on this link? I can never unsee it😵 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites