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Hibbs, the cub with no clue, and I walk out of Jo's rocking party
and out onto her lush backyard.
"Whew!," gushes Hibb.
"That is some party, Mr. Roland. Who was the Ostrich Lady,
wearing that dress of honey combs, who kept dancing with me?"
"Oh, that was Lady Gaga. You're lucky, Hibbs. Once she wore a dress of meat."
"What? Oh, Eeeyoo!"
His eyes light up. "Ah, do you know where she put that dress?"
I raise my eyebrow, and Hibbs says, "Don't look at me that way. Meat shouldn't go to waste."
He sits down on the grass with a thump beside me.
"At least that mother and daughter came to my resuce ... sort of."
"You mean Madonna and her daughter, Lourdes?"
"Yes, them. What was that weird dance that Madonna woman kept dancing with me?"
"It's called a tango, Hibbs."
"Well, it sure tangled my spine, that's for sure! Ah, speaking of spines,
her daughter looked like her spine was all rubber while she danced with me. Is that the tango, too?"
I ruffle the hair atop his small head. "No, Hibbs, that's called the Dip."
Hibbs shruggs his shoulder.
"At least that band, THE WANDERING PEPPLES, played so loud I didn't have to talk much."
"You mean THE ROLLING STONES, Hibbs."
He nods his head. "Yeah, them."
"Oh, there, you are, you little sneak!," comes a strident voice behind us.
Hibbs pops to his feet, holding out his paw. "Who's that, Mr. Roland?"
"Taylor Swift."
Taylor rushes toward Hibbs, who thrusts out his open paw even more.
"Now, you keep those spindly little legs right where they are, Miss Taylor. I'm all pooped out."
Taylor giggles. "Oh, you cute thing, you."
She wraps an arm around a squirming Hibbs, dragging him back into Jo's party.
Taylor giggles, "I dated a werewolf, but I've never danced with a bear."
Hibbs lolls his head over his shoulder, imploring me with begging eyes.
"Mr. Roland, help! Mr. Roland!!"
I chuckle back at him. "Face it, Hibbs. You just have animal magnetism!"
"Mr. Roland, that is SO not funny!"
Ah, everyone, come help me rescue Hibbs at Jo's party :
http://jostorm.blogspot.com/
***
and out onto her lush backyard.
"Whew!," gushes Hibb.
"That is some party, Mr. Roland. Who was the Ostrich Lady,
wearing that dress of honey combs, who kept dancing with me?"
"Oh, that was Lady Gaga. You're lucky, Hibbs. Once she wore a dress of meat."
"What? Oh, Eeeyoo!"
His eyes light up. "Ah, do you know where she put that dress?"
I raise my eyebrow, and Hibbs says, "Don't look at me that way. Meat shouldn't go to waste."
He sits down on the grass with a thump beside me.
"At least that mother and daughter came to my resuce ... sort of."
"You mean Madonna and her daughter, Lourdes?"
"Yes, them. What was that weird dance that Madonna woman kept dancing with me?"
"It's called a tango, Hibbs."
"Well, it sure tangled my spine, that's for sure! Ah, speaking of spines,
her daughter looked like her spine was all rubber while she danced with me. Is that the tango, too?"
I ruffle the hair atop his small head. "No, Hibbs, that's called the Dip."
Hibbs shruggs his shoulder.
"At least that band, THE WANDERING PEPPLES, played so loud I didn't have to talk much."
"You mean THE ROLLING STONES, Hibbs."
He nods his head. "Yeah, them."
"Oh, there, you are, you little sneak!," comes a strident voice behind us.
Hibbs pops to his feet, holding out his paw. "Who's that, Mr. Roland?"
"Taylor Swift."
Taylor rushes toward Hibbs, who thrusts out his open paw even more.
"Now, you keep those spindly little legs right where they are, Miss Taylor. I'm all pooped out."
Taylor giggles. "Oh, you cute thing, you."
She wraps an arm around a squirming Hibbs, dragging him back into Jo's party.
Taylor giggles, "I dated a werewolf, but I've never danced with a bear."
Hibbs lolls his head over his shoulder, imploring me with begging eyes.
"Mr. Roland, help! Mr. Roland!!"
I chuckle back at him. "Face it, Hibbs. You just have animal magnetism!"
"Mr. Roland, that is SO not funny!"
Ah, everyone, come help me rescue Hibbs at Jo's party :
http://jostorm.blogspot.com/
***
My melded entry for PURPLE PROSE and THE NATURE OF MAGIC blogfests will be a day late, coming to you Saturday.
***
