Monday, June 4, 2012

Women's Wing Tips

First I apologize for my laxity in attending to these critical communications but there was more to those wing tips than the family doctor. A lot more.

I lay there stretched naked across the cool hardwood floor in my darkened hall, silently counting the number of little holes in the toes of the large and intrusive wing tips that stood before me, wishing I had a mustache to stroke in pensive reflection. How could this be the dreaded Lap Doggy? Had there ever been an inscrutable Asian spy or perhaps programmer who wore wing tips? Probably not since the days of Charlie Chan himself. Of course I didn't want the intruder to be aware of my presence, splayed out before him, or perhaps her, naked on the cool hardwood floor, counting the holes in his/her wing tips, so I lay there wondering how I ended up naked splayed out on the cool hardwood floor when only moments before I had my jammies on and was crawling from my bed to the front door where I assumed the rather rude and obnoxious Lap Mingler was awaiting me, sniggering with a sly and inscrutable grin revealing only a strip of gleaming yellow teeth in the moonlight. I had a feeling that Lappy was attempting to ruin my marriage by forcing a random CPAP mask removal with his uninvited knock at 4AM because I had come to the conclusion that he wasn't planning on doing A BIZ with me at all, but that it was my rather large-breasted, slovenly Russian mail-order wife he was after.

I counted 47 holes - 23 in the left shoe and 24 in the right - and I gasped: women's wing tips!

"Heeldiddyheebeedee!" I jerked my head up. Quietly. Very quietly. Probably the quietest head jerk ever written, for I was hoping that the individual in the winged tips was still unaware of my presence, despite the sudden bizarre exclamation they made when I had completed counting the holes in their shoes.

Worse yet, it was a female voice too! Likely human. Could Yeung Lap Ming possibly be a woman? Well sure, I said to myself very quietly. I suppose! Why not? It's not like I can tell the difference between a North Korean female and a North Korean male. Not by their names, at least, and certainly not by their looks, or their clothes, or their hair color, or the obvious complete lack of facial hair or any type of bodily hair for that matter. But the voice! This was clearly one area where the North Koreans, or at least the Lap Ming family, had failed to defeat individual differences for the good of the politburo.

"Heeldiddyheebeedee!" she giggled again, sliding her left foot back and tapping out a perky North Korean military rhythm on the hardwood floor where I laid splayed naked in the dark. "Get up, worm," she suddenly commanded, and I felt a little pee pee leak onto the cool hardwood floor, not because I was stricken with fear but because this was a command I often heard from my mail order bride, to whom "worm" was just subset of the larger individual that the person in the wing tips with the woman's North Korean voice was now addressing. Before I budged another voice cried out in the night.

"Honeeeeee!!?" I pressed myself into the cool hardwood floor, hoping that my nudity would make it easier to be subsumed by relatively porous pine planks.Maybe the pee pee had softened them up a bit. "What the fuck is going on in there?" My mail order bride's voice was starting to sound a little closer now.

"Nothing dear! You better go back to bed! It's cold out here and you don't want your nipples getting hard!"

"I don't? Why not?" she asked, getting closer. Damn, I said to myself. Why in the fuck did I say that? I was the one who didn't want her nipples getting hard, since they could cause serious bodily injury when fully erect, including fairly major contusions and temporary blinding. Obviously the Siberian women used them as weapons against bears and wolves. "Who is making that beautiful Siberian Mink mating call?".

She was here. My mail-order bride was in the room, about to discover a North Korean she-male in wing tips and perhaps not much else imitating a Siberian Mink's mating call as I lay naked splayed out on the cool hardwood floor caressing that same pair of wing tips.Again, I felt a dribble...


I know many of you are thinking isn't it about time Major Martha Gomez made an appearance? You are so right, it is high time the good Major and the Lapper got into it, and I promise I will arrange a meeting for them in the near future.

For those of you that have not been terrified by the sudden appearance on Major Martha Gomez so soon on the heels of the evil email scammer Yeung Lap Ming, let me share with you the Major's missive:

How are you doing today? Please do condone me for invading your privacy through this medium. Nevertheless, I desire to convey a very important message which in the long run will be conjointly beneficial to us.

This entails a business dealing which I will make known to you the full details in my next mail upon your response and readiness to work with me. Please do take this mail in earnest.
View attached link for proper understanding.

Respectfully Yours,

Major Martha Gomez.

Of course I didn't touch the attached link I wouldn't have even touched it with...well you know.
Within 48 hours I was accosted by another one of the Lap Doggy's minions, Ryan Albanese:

Learn the current hull material to make the suit material To protect The door slams down the hallway I wanted to tell you all in person.n hòwcan you say this is a college seminar. We talk to these f Silhouetted against the rim lights of the Death Star horizon, if yöu õwe the IRS môney At first I stopped because I got my this abrupt fashion! You dont seem to realize the position But the crime? Dont påy the Í reward money After all, I want the armour to match the color of my Melissa sits down S untí C Another: you refused to go to Perelman's office when summoned l yöu reåd this:

Whoa! Makes Yeung Lap Ming and Major Martha look like Bellevue escapees (which they probably are). And to think that I have Melanie Mills to thank for this morbid curiosity with scammer lit.

Stay tuned: a prime time appearance of "I Was a Client of Melanie Mills" will be hitting the blogosphere bring some friends aboard and stick with Limboland a while longer we're just starting to groove!

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