Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Passenger 5681

 

        I imagine I am in a great wooden ship.  Its name is The Canterbury Lakes Estates, and it is sailing through the Sea Foryourself.   The latest storm has washed overboard a few shipmates, leaving behind their memory and some personal effects.

        Our Captain is a pirate, who pillages and plunders by means of fees, dues and assessments.  His band of henchmen are lawyers, all drooling and greedy.  

        How I ended up with an inside cabin, I’m not sure, but the view from my porthole shows no land in sight. 

        Potential new shipmates are given a tour and shown a façade of amenities, reflecting those of a luxury cruise ship, when the harsh reality is that the filet mignon, when actually served is nothing more than overpriced gruel, garnished with octopus suction cups, served over an unmade bed of brown lettuce.

        I have rolled this message into an empty bottle of Pepto-Bismol and tossed it, along with my cookies, overboard.  Should this float into the wrong hands, I’m sure I’ll be flogged and ultimately blamed for everything from the Kennedy assignation to the Lindberg baby kidnapping. 

        However, should you discover it, simply take note - the back of every Open House sign is an emblem of the Jolly Roger.

 

        Passenger 5681








1 comment:

Pauline said...

Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of rum!