Saturday, May 19, 2007

Septuple Hyphenated Hiatus of Hankering

On Friday morning, there were by my count 23 riders on the bus, a fivefold increase from the previous morning's commute. What do we owe the increased ridership to: Gas prices? Global warming? Payday? Report-to-caseworker day?

One of the new riders, a New Rider of the Purple Sage, was Marilyn Monroe, wearing a wise and lavender version of that fabulous famous dress that blows upward erotically from the sidewalk grate in a memorable scene from the 1955 film "The Seven Year Itch." (Speaking of which, I'm really itching to tell you that the movie's title yearns, cries out for, a hyphen between seven and year. And upon reflection, isn't the hyphen itself an intimate mark of punctuation, a subtle conjoiner, a conjugal connector? And upon even further reflection, is there really anything to that "seven-year itch" theory of wanderlust? Or is it more like "seven-minute itch"? The Laughorist wander-wonders, hyphenically.)

Speaking of wonder-wanderings, I almost plaintively asked Marilyn for a lurid lapdance, but demurred.

What do you think I am, some kind of purple necro-nut? Besides, it's a public bus, not a bus with the adjective preceding bus missing that fourth letter, a typo I have paranoically dreaded in my years as an editor.

Further besides, my libido flags at morningtime, at less than half-mast, the mourning dove of love all but dormant.

8 comments:

JR's Thumbprints said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
JR's Thumbprints said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

OH MY GOOD GRACIOUS! Is it possible to be hooked on a blog after reading just one post? Holy cripes, your writing is absolutely fantastic, and I must have more.

I shall return, my neighbor. :-)

Wanderlust Scarlett said...

...how funny!
I stopped by to peruse and sniff... to see what I might find.
I like this very much.
That incident of the white skirt 'blowing up erotically from the sidewalk' actually happened to me as I passed over a grate on a sidewalk in Paris. I was wearing a white cotton skirt, long and full. Cotton dances when moved by air.
The friend who was with me is a very sweet, dear boy... who enjoys boys exclusively, so the eroticism of the moment was lost on him. The surprise and the draft were not lost on me, however.
I also thought it ironic that your choice of words included wanderlust... an obscure word, one that is too oft neglected, methinks... but one that I like to use daily.

Thanks for the giggles and good reading.
Scarlett

Pawlie Kokonuts said...

CD,
The presence of your deleted absence is welcome.

CD,
The absence of your deleted presence is acknowledged.

MRG,
A neighborly high-five jive. Thanks!

WS,
Figures that it would all be lost on your sidewalk partner. How grating. Since you're new here, I won't naughtily ask whether any other exposed articles of apparel were cotton or silk. Oh no, I won't ask that.

PK

Wanderlust Scarlett said...

Then, PK, I shan't answer... since you didn't ask. ;o)

Anonymous said...

Holy Herniated Horse Hockey Batman!!! That's quite a title.

Later Y'all

Glamourpuss said...

Has your dove of love been re-born? Either in the Christian sense or like a phoenix rising from the ashes of spent lust?

Just curious.

Puss

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