7/9/99 Tragedy!!
....Abominable news. Clubbing last night took an awful turn. Firstly, that bitch, (for the remainder of this missive I shall refer to her as THE Bitch), THE Bitch, why yes miladies, she was working the gate at Menjos, well, she refused to let Bubo in, as diapers are not considered acceptable to the oh-la-la dress code at the club. I tried to explain that Bubo has a medical condition, but, well, I call her THE Bitch for a reason. No luck for this lady. While I argued with THE Bitch, Gudora got loose. ....How Gudora left his pearl-encrusted panty-case is a mystery to me...not even the crabs at Ye Olde Turk's Bathhouse (r.i.p.) were as feisty as my Gudora, and last night Gudora had the jones for some serious parasitic sex. I've trained him well. Nutsacks all over the club were itching and throbbing faster than you can say "anti-venom". Finally I found him up the arse of the bartender, an old leatherman from Melvindale, who obliged Gudora for as long as he could take it, and obliged me as well with his phone number. Little does he know I'd never desert my Bubo, but when you're trying to get your beetle back out the ass of a leatherman, you'll sometimes say things that are a bit disingenuous. I told him I'd call him. (Now, now, if he was really after me he'd have kept Gudora, but you see, Gudora left a little something to celebrate the night...turns out last night was the apogee of a 17-year breeding cycle for his species of stinging stag beetle...eggs for the leatherman, eggs for the leatherman! Tee-hee, in 17 years our friend from Melvindale might suffer a bit of an itch in his rear and quite a bit of constipation before he springs forth with some little Gudoras of his own!)
.... Bubo was waiting patiently for me out in the rear the whole time. When I exited the club from the service exit, Gudora safe in his panty-case and the leatherman's digits discretely lost, there Bubo was...rapt in the arms of THE Bitch. The drip was disconnected, the diaper off, Bubo'd even taken his facemask off and grinned that sloppy leer that I thought was reserved for me and only me (and only for when I wore the pink lambswool chaps). Aghast, I fled, Gudora in tow.
.... Well, ladies, I slipped on Bubo's discarded (and used) diaper, and opened 3/4 of my stitches. To her credit, THE Bitch ceased her assault of Bubo (for an assault it most certainly was, as Bubo tearfully recounted to me on the ambulance ride to St. Joes, as poor Bubo was incapacitated by some 'K he'd got from some teens while I was chasing Gudora, and THE Bitch has snuck up on him unawares, removed his raiment, and had her way with him. He'd been powerless to resist. Poor Bubo has had such an awful time of it....shades of that horrible night at the levee. I stroked his teary face despite my pain, and forgave him on the spot) and ran inside for help. Who should come to my aid but the leatherman from Melvindale, who tenderly nursed me with $1.00 Well Drinks while I waited for EMS. I didn't have the strength to ask him for his number again, I felt faint from bloodloss.
.... So, girls, here I lie in recovery again, my faithful Bubo always at my side (when he isn't scoring medical grade K from the orderlies), Gudora safe and snug in the panty-case, and my thoughts drifting towards the sentimental and profound. Hopefully I'll be well enough for the John Tesh concert next week.Here's wishing me luv! XOX
Horace Curtleysmith De Kneightley