http://www.reddit.com/r/justneckbeardthingshttp://www.reddit.com/r/neckbeardstories She was wearing a green garb and she kept her
backpack on the whole time. She was DDG -- if
you know what I mean -- drop-dead-gorgeous;
but she had no textbook out in front of her,
so your Neckbear Reporter could not divine her
mission in life, other than to make the
beard move because she made the head turn --
towards her. The nearby Chi-Spy saw her target lose
all interest once Green Sweater sat down.
Maybe the Editor-in-Chief will grant this
reporter extra bronie points for yesterday,
because of covering five major close shaves
of the 'beard if not the 'neck. First and
briefly there was la Bayadere, to whom we must
grant the supreme honor of that Minkusian appelation
because she moves in slow balletic motion --
after her friend Jasmine pushes her on-stage
to perform. Once thus propelled, la Bayadere
holds onto something in front of El Barboso
and silhouettes a spectacle so riveting,
so enthralling, that when Barboso wishes
her luxuriant brown hair were untied and
let down, she unties it for him in the
dream later that night, and -- oh! One time
Barboso saw an ad for Louis V. handbags
and had a dream where the hairdo of the
model -- A----- V------- -- filled up the
entire rectangle of the advertisement.
So first there was la Bayadere. The second
-- what do you call a small part of the battle? --
desert me not, von Moltke, nor you, Herr Clausewitz --
ah yes! His very name reminded me -- skirmish --
was the Green-blue Sweater angel. The third was
the mechanical engineering major who was only a
sophomore and so was not yet into robotics.
The fourth was on the Make-Out-Bus (M.O.B.)
and who was about to enter the same Licensed
Parctical Nurse (LPN) program which Odna Mona
went through with the self-sacrificing help of
the infatuated El B. Barboso used to go to the
erstwhile Honey Bear coffee shop with Odna Mona
and the redhaired barista guy would first ask,
"Is she your daughter?" and then upon hearing
"My student!" as a response, "Please tell her I
would like to date her." Upon so hearing, Odna
Mona took one look at him and spat "Loser!" not
to him but to El Barboso. Whenever Odna Mona and
El Barboso played the lottery, they would win
two or three times in a row, for some karmic reason,
but la petite Chinoise would get angry and say
to the Bearded One: "Why don't you ever play the
lottery with me?!" But I digress. The fifth encounter
of the close kind was a few blocks after the LPN
postulant disembarked from the M.O.B. and the reason
for its appellation got on, taking a seat halfway
back to the Beard. Then, Beard-in-Chief, I did a
phony thing -- I gave Valentine a gift-card
intended for the Daughter of the Regiment,
who is eight thousand miles from home and wants
to study Latin with Barbatus el Scoundrelosus.
The Regimental Daughter already accepted a
gift-card last Monday, so Boso here (wow!
I must be drunk to achieve such a gonzo-esque
word-creation, changing El Barboso into "Boso" :-)
went out and bought _two_ new gift-cards in case
he might run into La Fille du Regiment anytime soon.
He told El Poet there that after gifting La Fille
du Regiment, his chest felt constricted and he
could barely breathe, at which El Poeta Stupidoso
made a crude remark, so Vaya al Diablo with him.
Anyway, Editor Ed, I just wanted to post a few
links here and now I have written a whole neck-story.