gallahadesquire

I hired a young fellow a couple of times. He stopped escorting but we were still friends. I met his lover. I inherited his lover’s cat Charlie when they broke up. I then inherited him ...I had told him that he’d always have a place to stay here, you know, a couple of months or so.
 
About two months after getting the cat, he moved in. For five years ... nothing sexual, purely platonic. Four years in, he decided to transition to female. That was an experience I’d really rather not repeat. She found the Love of Her Life, and moved out.
 
A year and a half later, she moved back, as there’d broken up. She was here six months, and then found the next Love of Her Life, and moved out. They broke up months ago, and I have a feeling she’ll be back.
 
To complicate matters, there’s a fellow I met on SA who may be moving in. He’s a bit fucked up and fucked over, but he has a good heart.
 
Assuming I survive surgery. I saw my Cardiologist yesterday who was hanging the crêpe, as I (presumably) have pulmonary hypertension and right heart failure. Oh joy, oh rapture.
 
I already have burial plans: to inter my ashes in the Memorial Garden at a church where my godfathers [sic] are interred. I need to rewrite my will, although I assume I shan’t care who does what with my filthy lucre once I’m gone. I’m mostly worried about my Cat, my grandfather clock, and my antique side board. They are very nice pieces. The Cat has gotten very affection since I spent a month in the Hospital a year ago. I’m willing to leave an endowment with him for medical issues, food, etc. He just need a loving home. He’s 12 and in great health, so it’s a relatively short term situation.
 
oh, and I’ve made arrangements that, should I be on death’s door, a certain Very Well Reviewed escort, whose presence makes me feel SO good, will hire a private plane to see me in my last hour. On my dime, of course.

I hired a young fellow a couple of times. He stopped escorting but we were still friends. I met his lover. I inherited his lover’s cat Charlie when they broke up. I then inherited him ...I had told him that he’d always have a place to stay here, you know, a couple of months or so.
 
About two months after getting the cat, he moved in. For five years ... nothing sexual, purely platonic. Four years in, he decided to transition to female. That was an experience I’d really rather not repeat. She found the Love of Her Life, and moved out.
 
A year and a half later, she moved back, as there’d broken up. She was here six months, and then found the next Love of Her Life, and moved out. They broke up months ago, and I have a feeling she’ll be back.
 
To complicate matters, there’s a fellow I met on SA who may be moving in. He’s a bit fucked up and fucked over, but he has a good heart.
 
Assuming I survive surgery. I saw my Cardiologist yesterday who was hanging the crêpe, as I (presumably) have pulmonary hypertension and right heart failure. Oh joy, oh rapture.
 
I already have burial plans: to inter my ashes in the Memorial Garden at a church where my godfathers [sic] are interred. I need to rewrite my will, although I assume I shan’t care who does what with my filthy lucre once I’m gone. I’m mostly worried about my Cat, my grandfather clock, and my antique side board. They are very nice pieces. The Cat has gotten very affection since I spent a month in the Hospital a year ago. I’m willing to leave an endowment with him for medical issues, food, etc. He just need a loving home. He’s 12 and in great health, so it’s a relatively short term situation.
 
oh, and I’ve made arrangements that, should I be on death’s door, a certain Very Well Reviewed escort, whose presence makes me feel SO good, will hire a private plane to see me in my last hour. On my dime, of course.

Nepotism starts at home.

He’s an anesthesia resident. That thing hanging from his waist is a peripheral nerve stimulator.
 
Of course I could have deduced that from the previous photo.

He’s an anesthesia resident. That thing hanging from his waist is a peripheral nerve stimulator.
 
Of course I could have deduced that from the previous photo.

He’s an anesthesia resident. That thing hanging from his waist is a peripheral nerve stimulator.
 
Of course I could have deduced that from the previous photo.

A friend’s mother died at 93. She’d had leukemia at 73, and threw her game off neurologically. But she was intact to the end. Other than some outliers, I’ve had friends die at 78-80 pretty regularly. I have no financial worries; I could afford 24\7 home care when the time comes, and I MUST have a Cat. I would rather not spend down my nephews’ inheritance, and I don’t think I shall.
 
Mom had Alzheimer’s, mild-to-moderate, and died from a stroke at 80. My stepfather was bedridden with every-six-week hospital admissions for about three years until he died at 96. I think I’d rather follow in my mother’s footsteps, minus the Alzheimer’s, thank you
 
So I hope I make it to 80. I’m just 69 now, so we’ll see.

He’s been MIA for a month and a half. Usually if I poke him with a stick he’ll respond. This time? Crickets.
 
I just hope he’s okay.

He’s been MIA for a month and a half. Usually if I poke him with a stick he’ll respond. This time? Crickets.
 
I just hope he’s okay.

He’s been MIA for a month and a half. Usually if I poke him with a stick he’ll respond. This time? Crickets.
 
I just hope he’s okay.

Did they put her dog down yet?
Have they put her down yet?

My home town of River Forest, Illinois, was home to Tony Accardo, said to be Capone’s #2 man. The house was beyond iutrageous: besides the indoor pool, therevwa# at least one bathroom with an onyx tub and gold fixtures. The Junior High was a couple of blocks away.
 
On Chicago avenue, not far from Big Tuna’s house, was a Glass case with a figure, life-size, of the Madonna. She was always dressed in the appropriate Liturgical color of the season. She was affectionately know locally as “Madonna a Go-go, a Go-go”,.
 
Greater Chicagoland was such a weird place to grow up.

Not immortality. Eternal youth. If you’re immortal you’re still going to age, and not well

Not immortality. Eternal youth. If you’re immortal you’re still going to age, and not well

Not immortality. Eternal youth. If you’re immortal you’re still going to age, and not well

JFK assassination
Bozo the clown
Romper Room
Being able to stay out and play until the street lights came on
My first bike- a stingray
Hot wheels
My dads car, a Plymouth with tail fins
No seat belts
Works ended at 5 dinner at 6
Dial phones with a cord
Penny candy
I had a paper route

In ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, thee was a ?Fractured Fairytale, or a Peabody’s Improbable History, about Sir Galahad:
 
He was just born, and his father took him to get his name registered in the book.
“Have you chosen a name?” the keeper of the book asked.
“Yes Sir!” his father responded ... so his name went into the book as Sir Galahad.
“But that’s not what I wanted!” the father said.
“Too late! It’s already in the book! But what was the name you wanted?”
“Arbuthnot!” the father replied.
 
I just got a kick out of that.
 
The “-esquire” just arrived on its own. I might have been thinking “Squire Galahad” who would, of course, eventually turn into Sir Galahad.
 
The double “L”? I failed to spell check.
 
P.s. I sometimes use Arbuthnot.
P.p.s.:
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” the man said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“It’s not Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“Well then, what is it?”
“It’s SPELLED Raymond Luxury Yacht, but it’s pronounced Thoatwarbler Mangrove.”
—Monty Python
 
https://montypython.fandom.com/wiki/Raymond_Luxury-Yacht

In ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, thee was a ?Fractured Fairytale, or a Peabody’s Improbable History, about Sir Galahad:
 
He was just born, and his father took him to get his name registered in the book.
“Have you chosen a name?” the keeper of the book asked.
“Yes Sir!” his father responded ... so his name went into the book as Sir Galahad.
“But that’s not what I wanted!” the father said.
“Too late! It’s already in the book! But what was the name you wanted?”
“Arbuthnot!” the father replied.
 
I just got a kick out of that.
 
The “-esquire” just arrived on its own. I might have been thinking “Squire Galahad” who would, of course, eventually turn into Sir Galahad.
 
The double “L”? I failed to spell check.
 
P.s. I sometimes use Arbuthnot.
P.p.s.:
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” the man said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“It’s not Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“Well then, what is it?”
“It’s SPELLED Raymond Luxury Yacht, but it’s pronounced Thoatwarbler Mangrove.”
—Monty Python
 
https://montypython.fandom.com/wiki/Raymond_Luxury-Yacht

In ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, thee was a ?Fractured Fairytale, or a Peabody’s Improbable History, about Sir Galahad:
 
He was just born, and his father took him to get his name registered in the book.
“Have you chosen a name?” the keeper of the book asked.
“Yes Sir!” his father responded ... so his name went into the book as Sir Galahad.
“But that’s not what I wanted!” the father said.
“Too late! It’s already in the book! But what was the name you wanted?”
“Arbuthnot!” the father replied.
 
I just got a kick out of that.
 
The “-esquire” just arrived on its own. I might have been thinking “Squire Galahad” who would, of course, eventually turn into Sir Galahad.
 
The double “L”? I failed to spell check.
 
P.s. I sometimes use Arbuthnot.
P.p.s.:
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” the man said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“It’s not Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“Well then, what is it?”
“It’s SPELLED Raymond Luxury Yacht, but it’s pronounced Thoatwarbler Mangrove.”
—Monty Python
 
https://montypython.fandom.com/wiki/Raymond_Luxury-Yacht

I was making out with a 30 year old and he called me Daddy.
I was only 31 at the time.

In rebuttal
 
[MEDIA=imgur]bzeiYdA[/MEDIA]

In ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, thee was a ?Fractured Fairytale, or a Peabody’s Improbable History, about Sir Galahad:
 
He was just born, and his father took him to get his name registered in the book.
“Have you chosen a name?” the keeper of the book asked.
“Yes Sir!” his father responded ... so his name went into the book as Sir Galahad.
“But that’s not what I wanted!” the father said.
“Too late! It’s already in the book! But what was the name you wanted?”
“Arbuthnot!” the father replied.
 
I just got a kick out of that.
 
The “-esquire” just arrived on its own. I might have been thinking “Squire Galahad” who would, of course, eventually turn into Sir Galahad.
 
The double “L”? I failed to spell check.
 
P.s. I sometimes use Arbuthnot.
P.p.s.:
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” the man said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“It’s not Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“Well then, what is it?”
“It’s SPELLED Raymond Luxury Yacht, but it’s pronounced Thoatwarbler Mangrove.”
—Monty Python
 
https://montypython.fandom.com/wiki/Raymond_Luxury-Yacht

In rebuttal
 
[MEDIA=imgur]bzeiYdA[/MEDIA]

In rebuttal
 
[MEDIA=imgur]bzeiYdA[/MEDIA]

In ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, thee was a ?Fractured Fairytale, or a Peabody’s Improbable History, about Sir Galahad:
 
He was just born, and his father took him to get his name registered in the book.
“Have you chosen a name?” the keeper of the book asked.
“Yes Sir!” his father responded ... so his name went into the book as Sir Galahad.
“But that’s not what I wanted!” the father said.
“Too late! It’s already in the book! But what was the name you wanted?”
“Arbuthnot!” the father replied.
 
I just got a kick out of that.
 
The “-esquire” just arrived on its own. I might have been thinking “Squire Galahad” who would, of course, eventually turn into Sir Galahad.
 
The double “L”? I failed to spell check.
 
P.s. I sometimes use Arbuthnot.
P.p.s.:
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” the man said.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“It’s not Raymond Luxury Yacht.”
“Well then, what is it?”
“It’s SPELLED Raymond Luxury Yacht, but it’s pronounced Thoatwarbler Mangrove.”
—Monty Python
 
https://montypython.fandom.com/wiki/Raymond_Luxury-Yacht