11:27
11:27
Edward sipped the mojito. He had to admit it wasn’t half bad. Still on principle he decided for the third time to put it down and refuse any more part in this little charade that had the beaver so smug.
“Enough!”
11:26
Twas the night before endings And all through the place
All the people were were tensing Each and every face
The drinks were all poured with tender sweet care
In hopes that the beaver would make all aware
The participants were snuggled with blankets and books
While anxiously fretting, giving the beaver dirty looks
But Edward in tweed and Gareth in plaid
Were not buying anything the beaver had said
when suddenly a noise rang out from the hallway
And the beaver glanced up in his special way
He smiled at the shape outlined by the light
Oh his grin grew wide at the wondrous sight
The light from the moon cast shadows on the face
A weird sculpted landscape of paper and paste
That was reminiscent of something that did quite appear
To be the image of seven rather large cold reinbeer…
11:25
But the wardrobe, or memories of that fiery red car for that matter, were neither her nor there in the here and now. What brought this all to mind was that feeling of exhilaration that Edward had felt when his roadster was on the edge and the grip was starting to go from the tires. Screaming around high speed corners right on the edge and wondering if that last bit of rubber was going to give up its embrace of the hot asphalt blazing by at breakneck speed. The thought that maybe, just maybe , this time he would actually lose control. And, of course, the relief and self-satisfaction that he always felt when once again, Edward ‘s control proved immaculate.
At this moment, the exhilaration was there, surging through the room, ad Edward relaxed into to it ever so slightly, confident that once again he would remain in control.
11:24
11:24
The biggest problem Edward had had when he finally divested himself of the roadster was what to do with the clothes. A well dressed rabbit zooming by at 85 miles an hour was one thing, but a fashion forward bunny decked out in tweed and a classic wool flat cap strolling through the park was something else. It just wouldn’t do to.
It was, if Edward was honest with himself, like the thing he missed most of the motoring period. After all, there hadn’t been a lot of periods in Edward’s long life to be the well-dressed one and Edward was nothing if not just as vain as the rest of his species.
Light bright, they made things with light
Shabu shabu, boozy chocolate and snowy girls,,,
11:23
11:23
When Edward was younger he had toyed with automobiles. He had obtained a sporty car and modified it to suit his needs. A convertible, the roadster had quite managed to addict him to the wind blowing his ears back and the roar of the modified 12 cylinder making his blood boil.
This infatuation had lasted for a couple of seasons until maintenance had started to outweigh the time he had available to enjoy himself.
11:22
Last minute poetry
And this is what you throw at me
A song of love and hate and pain
So fucking trite so so insane
It makes me nuts this crazy shit
Don’t want it , Don’t like it,
No not one bit
But if he don’t ever finish this tale
That bloody author’s off straight to hell.
11:21
11:21
Yeah I, I got to know your name
Well and I, could trace your private number baby
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re lots of fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
I want some
Well I…I set my sights on you
(and no one else will do)
And I, I’ve got to have my way now, baby
(and no one else will do)
And I, I’ve got to have my way now, baby
All I know is that to me
You look like you’re havin’ fun
Open up your lovin’ arms
Watch out, here I come
*You spin me right round, baby
right round like a record, baby
Right round round round
You spin me right round, baby
Right round like a record, baby
Right round round round
Gareth staggered to his feet and headed for the washroom. “There’s gotta be some Tylenol or something there,” he muttered to himself. “My head is right spinning. Right round spinning.”
11:20
11:20
Jeezus, Mary and Joseph, what the hell was that?
Gareth was really re-thinking his relationship with Rowan right at this point. Or was it just the nerves? Still… Dead or Alive? That was just a bit too poetic. Or was that ironic…
11:19
11:19
Gareth watched the proceedings in a bit of a daze. The only thing he was really conscious of was the Bose up in the shelf. It seemed to be having a bit of an 80s moment. Unless that’s what Rowan usually listened to, and somehow that seemed doubtful.
There had been that Flock of Seagulls sing and a couple if electronic pieces that could have been DeadMaus, but they were way too damned happy.
He wasn’t sure he could take too much more of this.