Dear Gentle Reader,
Your Heroine, recently back from Bangladesh, is now in China. Your humble scribe is in Canada.
Your Hero, Pommes, is holding down the fort in Hong Kong. Pommes even indicated that he would feed our fish too. Good kitty. As long as Pommes does not feed on the fish.
So, here in Canada, your humble scribe hung out with his brother and his sister-in-law for the day and went to a dubious house party.
The mistress of the house, shown above, is standing in front of a sign that says, if I remember correctly, "Haunted Blouse".
I have no idea what it means, either. But her blouse was stretching at the seams. Pamela Anderson comes from Canada, maybe the haunted blouse is a cultural reference to her?
(Is Pamela Anderson a cultural icon? One hundred twenty-two covers of Playboy International's literary publications and her stint with Baywatch, supposedly the most viewed TV programme in history, for half of Baywatch's life, attest that Pamela is an international pop-culture icon.)
(For Americans, Pamela has graced your Playboy covers for one full year's worth of issues. Critique pop culture as you will, we have all been exposed to her. And she to us.)
Anyway, your humble scribe finds scary things like haunted houses, blouses, stories, and movies challenging due to his willingness to enter the world of a narrative. It is possible that your humble scribe has an overly developed sense of fright.
One ex-girlfriend persuaded your scribe to see one of the "Alien" franchise movies. Most of the evening was spent attempting to burrow, headfirst, down the back of the seat. It seemed safer there.
At the end of the movie the people behind him told him it was safe to come up.
At a different, equally petrifying movie your scribe spent the evening unconsciously clutching the jacket sleeve of a stranger. During one particularly startling scene your scribe declaimed his fright loudly and tore the sleeve off the stranger's jacket, surprising both himself and the owner of the jacket.
The owner of the jacket, and the sleeve, left quickly, looking quite nervous, despite your scribe's apologies and offers to pay. That terrifying movie was the fright-fest film "Highlander".
So, you can imagine the extreme discomfiture of your scribe to attend either a haunted blouse or house.
Your humble scribe, at least, is still alive. The same cannot be said for many of the occupants of that house; your scribe protests his innocence.
What was the house like? In the words of the sister-in-law, "That rocked!"
Enough said. All jackets remained safe and whole, too.
Your Heroine, apparently, loved Bangladesh (posting on Friday). Her trip likely "rocked" also.
The fate of the fish has yet to be determined (your Hero, Pommes, was purring a bit loudly on our last skype call). Your scribe is hoping that the fish-bowl was not rocked.
Tschuess,
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