Bare

No one told me about it.

Not my mother.

Not fashion magazines...

And it took me nearly 50 years to figure out that

Bare shoulders are THE BOMB when it comes to garnering second glances!

Maybe it’s just my bare shoulders

Hair up, long neck

Just me

My secret.

Shhhh.... don’t tell the fashion magazines!
.

Sixty Nine

The Sexagenarian was said
To celebrate birthdays in bed.
That was all fine
'Till she turned 69
With a party that'd make you blush red!
.

*Licks Lips*

A toothsome repast.

Don’t know what that is?

Better look it up, baby.

‘Cause you’re gonna be one!

*giggle*

Stripper Workout

"She wraps her hands around that pole
She licks those lips and off we go
And she takes it off nice and slow
'Cause that's Porn Star Dancin'!"

"Uh..." I said, waving my hand to get the attention of my oblivious alter ego as I entered her Salon. Garnet seemed, at the moment, to be enraptured not only by the music, but by whatever she was typing on the computer. "Turn down the stereo a little?" I requested.

"Oh!" Garnet exclaimed, "You're here." She waved a finger in the air, and in an instant the volume dropped dramatically.

"How did you do that?" I queried, wrinkling my brows in puzzlement.

"Magic." Garnet replied with a smile. "Actually, it's new technology. Same thing, right?" she laughed.

"What's with the stripper music?" I asked, "And what are you typing? A novel? You must have some sort of new project going now that your survey is finished."

"It's 'Porn Star Dancing' by a group called My Darkest Days. The music, I mean. You should know." she pointed out, "I found it in your music library. Anyway, I'm working on a resume."

"A resume?" I puzzled, "We haven't lost our job yet, you know. And I haven't quit, though must admit I'm tempted from time to time..."

"I'm not talking about our day job..." Garnet explained, "I'm thinking about a night job." she grinned.

"Uh, oh." I said, "This oughta be good..."

"You've heard about the strip, uh, I mean Gentleman's Club, the proposal for which is making news in nearby Eliot, Maine, right? You know, all the church ladies and mothers of young innocent, impressionable children haranguing the selectmen to quickly pass moratoriums and ordinances banning such unholy establishments before they can manage to open their doors..."

"Yeah, I heard of that." I said, "In fact, there was an article in the paper about it yesterday."

"Right." said Garnet, pulling from her desk a copy of the Foster's Daily Democrat in question, "And the club owner has filed suit. Listen to this. He says..." Garnet picked up the paper and leafed through the A section, "... right here he says, ‘...that the human body is a thing of beauty, which, when combined with music and rhythmic motion in the form of dance, conveys an important message of eroticism.’"

I laughed. "That's quite some spin!" I exclaimed.

"Wait, there's more..." my alter ego insisted, "it says ‘The activity that would occur at the club, the lawsuit states, "enhances individuals' conscious ability to assimilate and consider various issues involving sexual candor and the interest in human sexuality that all human beings have to a great or lesser degree.'"

"But..." I said.

"Isn't that beautiful?" Garnet rhapsodized, "Isn't that a beautiful defense of our beautiful bodies? Almost like poetry!"

"Very clever indeed." I stated, "But what does it have to do with your resume project?"

"Don't you see?" Garnet exclaimed, "I want to apply! To be a dancer!" She hopped to her feet and twirled a pirouette right in front of me.

I sat in her chair and peered at her nascent resume.

"We're not 37, you know. What makes you think you can get away with a lie like that?" I scolded.

"It's not a lie." Garnet insisted, "You read the results of that research project- the one which demonstrated that people who exercise for one hour each day have bodies which (by some biochemical marker or another) are 11 years younger than their chronological age. So we're 37!

"And you can't dance." I stated.

"You can't dance." she retorted. "You've got your weights and your hula hoop for exercise, but I've got this!

Garnet reached for a remote and pointed it at her big screen TV. The title 'Stripper Workout' appeared, accompanied by dance music. She clicked it off again.

"You should try it." she said, "Fun and sexy, and really tightens the buns." she added as she slapped herself on her backside and laughed.

"So you think the Gentlemen and the courts are going to prevail over the Church Ladies and the Upstanding Citizens?"

"Gentlemen can be upstanding as well, you know." she said, giggling at her own double entendre, "But yes, I'm betting on the gentlemen. Now, back to my resume..."

Garnet once again twirled a finger in the air, and as I exited her salon I was treated to another verse of her current fav song...

"She don't play nice
She makes me beg
As she drops that dress around her legs
And I'm sittin' right by the stage
'Cause it's Porn Star Dancin'
.

Garnet, Philosopher

"See, it says here," stated Garnet, opening her paperback entitled The Big Questions: A Short Introduction to Philosophy, "'...philosophical writing should be somewhat entertaining, witty, dramatic, and even seductive.' I think..." she exclaimed excitedly, "That I could be a philosopher!"

"You haven't even finished the book." said Carla dismissively, "How could you be a philosopher already?"

"Well," explained Carla's irrepressible alter ego, "Aside from being entertaining, witty, dramatic, and even seductive...." she smiled, "A sound philosophy of life is a lot simpler than this esteemed author lets on."

"How so?" asked Carla dubiously, "Seems to me to be a very complicated topic, with legions of subtopics."

"No." Garnet shook her head, "Not at all. Every single sentence of this book and every phrase of philosophy that's ever been written can be trumped by one word." she concluded smugly.

"Which is?" Carla couldn't help but ask.

"Love. L-O-V-E, love. Love is the concept. Love is the conceptual framework. Love is the logic. Love is the argument. Love is truth. It's like that Maurice Sendak book where the queen served spaghetti for the salad, spaghetti for the appetizer, spaghetti for the main dish, and spaghetti for dessert- except it's Love and Philosophy instead of spaghetti and menus."

"Spaghetti?" Carla puzzled, "But... Love can't be a philosophy... philosophy can't be love... Love is a good thing, surely, but not good enough- in and of itself- to be a philosophy..." Carla mused.

"If it's good enough for God, it's good enough for me." Garnet declared. "You see, Jesus said, in answer to the question as to which of the commandments is the greatest, 'You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.'"

"And besides," she continued, "The proof is in the word itself. Philosophy. It starts with love. Therefore it must end with love. All those dead philosophers and their dry esoteric ideas and their ponderous tomes are dust or gathering dust. But Love is alive! Love has survived! People UNDERSTAND love. People live love!"

"Yes," Carla said doubtfully, "But if a real philosopher were to appear and come at you and your Fantasy Love Philosophy with rules of inference, axioms, deductive logic, inductive logic, syllogisms and catagorical syllogisms, would your 'philosophy' stand? What would you do to defend your ethereal ideas against the onslaught of our Fine Philosopher Friend?" I laughed.

"Easy." Garnet declared with a smile, "I would simply love him. Inevitably he would shut up, and I (and Love) would win by default."
.

Sensuous Sweets

You swear your love;
Flowers and card,
But the candy I like
Is soft, then hard....

So come here, my sweet.

The flavor’s mine,
The pleasure’s yours...

Love springs
To the tip of my tongue
More eloquent
Than verse.
.

The Seduction Kit

*This is a sequel, dear reader, to 11/12/2010's The Survey*

She was up to something. I just knew it.

My alter ego had sent me an e-mail just that morning... the kind with a magic link, and a rather cryptic message to go along with it. Something about salon-sitting...

I clicked. Of course. I held my breath and closed my eyes, giving in to the dizzy scrambling sensation of 'the web abductor,' as my alter-ego refers to this unconventional (to say the least) mode of transportation. When I opened my eyes I saw... luggage. "What's this?" I wondered aloud, "Have I been accidentally transported to the baggage claim area of the Portland Jetport?" I rubbed my eyes.

"No, silly." Garnet scolded, "I'm taking a trip."

Having regained balance and focus, I looked her up and down. She was wearing a straight, dark red skirt and matching, tailored blazer. On her head was perched a little pillbox hat, attached to which was a bit of veil which covered her forehead and eyebrows in a way that I had to admit was fetching, in a retro fashion.

"Back in time?" I responded with laugh. "What's with the last century look?"

"It's a traveling suit." Garnet sniffed, "And if you ever bothered to check the fashion pages once in a while, you'd know they're 'in!' "

"Be that as it may." I scoffed, and then, my query turning serious I asked, "Where are you going? Really?"

"I'm taking my Survey on the road." she explained. "I can only get so far with the internet/Salon connection. After a while the same gents keep clicking, hoping for a follow-up. So I've taken down the link, and I'm taking to the road." she declared.

"Sounds like fun." I said sceptically, "But why all the baggage? You know airlines charge extra these days..."

"Daywear, eveningwear, makeup, lingere..." she counted on her fingers, "I've got to look good you know. How will I get any seduction done if I don't look good? And then there are these..." Garnet gestured to a suitcase filled with what appeared to be identical navy blue cosmetic cases.

"What are those?" I puzzled.

Garnet smiled, "Why, 'Seduction Kits,' of course. I don't leave home without them, you know." she giggled.

"But what..." I pondered, "Whatever do you put in a Seduction Kit?" Unable to contain my curiosity, I picked one up and un-did the zipper. I reached inside and brought out the first item that came to my fingertips. A little bottle.

"Brandy?" I glanced at my alter-ego, "For you or him?" I smirked.

"Him, of course." she stated, "I keep my supply in my purse. Some of the kits contain an equivalent nip of whiskey, in case that's what my victim- uh, I mean interviewee- prefers. Some even contain little bottles of vodka. The fruit flavored kind. They're not half bad, you know."

"You're a lush, you know." I teased, "What else is in here?" Garnet continued to pack while I rummaged through the little bag...

"Flowers?" I shot her a puzzled look as I pulled out a dried, scented bundle of sprigs, tied with a blue ribbon, "What sex are you seducing, after all?" I laughed.

"It's lavender." she stated, "You read that article, too, didn't you? The one about the scientific study that measured which scents caused an increase in blood flow to the genitals of the males that did the sniffing. Testing the theory of perfume, they were. Lavender and Pumpkin Pie were the most efficacious scents in that sense..." she smiled at her unintentionally humorous homonyms, "...and since I can't fit a pumpkin pie into the kit..." she giggled.

"Hm..." I said, glancing into the bag, "No, um, prophylactics? I know the baby factory is closed..." I looked at her seriously, "But there are a lot of diseases out there, you know." I stated sternly.

"This is a SEDUCTION kit!" she shot back at me, "Including a condom doesn't say, 'I wanna seduce you, you sexy thing,' it says, 'I wanna hop into the sack with you even though you're most probably as filthy as the nearest toilet seat in this dive.'" she sniffed, "The condoms" she stated, "are in my purse."

Back to the kit. "Chocolate... " I pulled out the foil-covered morsal, and then...

"WHAT'S THIS?" I screamed in shock, pulling a little home-made-cigarette-like thingy from the bag.

"It's a joint, of course. Chill out. They're almost legal almost everywhere these days. One of my Salon victims, uh, I mean guests, clued me in on them a while ago. Said it really ramps up his desire. So I put it to the test, and turns out to be quite efficacious. Don't look at me like that! I don't use it! It's strictly to put the interviewees in the mood."

"But..." I said, "Where do you get it? Isn't it risky to buy the stuff?"

"No." she smiled, "I grow it. In my herbarium. Same place I get the lavender. That's why I summoned you here. I need you to water my plants while I'm away."

"Herbarium?" I gasped, "I didn't know you had an herbarium... Where is...?"

"Fifth door on the left." she pointed through the arched doorway that led to the hall of doors, "And don't forget to leave the light on. And check the temperature every day. Clipboard with the log hanging on the wall." she concluded, as she hoisted the last of her suitcases up to the web abductor.

"Ah." she smiled, smoothing out her skirt and straightening her hat, "Adventure awaits!"

"Bon voyage!" I sang as my alter ego disappeared, "Hey! You forgot this!" I waved the Seduction Kit which I still held in my hand, but it was too late.

Whatever am I going to do with a Seduction Kit? Hmmmm.....
.