Re: Alarm and Consternation & a Salute of Sorts

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: Doctor Mary wrote:
: : "We'll Have You Beaten From This Fort????"  Hmmmmm. I like it!
: : I like it!!  All is forgiven! 

: I'm SEW glad you approve!  I thought it had a nice ring to it, myself.  You may feel free to put it to whatever advertising use you see fit.  But leave me out of it, if you would...I have a spotless reputation here in Mohicanland to consider, after all.

: :Let us not to the marriage of
: : true minds admit impediments like Mr. Dirty Girty. Leave him
: : to the Crone...I hear it's been awhile since she's seen any
: : action. 

: This is probably true...trouble is, I'm not sure she'd remember what to DO if action came her way!  As for Mr. Girty, he pretty much chooses his path all by hisownself, doncha know.  If it leads him to Old Crone or to Mistress Mary, it's none of my concern, really.

: :As a peace offering, I'm sending Dweebie out to your
: : cabin with a sack of squirrel innards so you can fry up some
: : justly famous Squrrel Fritter Flambe for the weekend.

: Now HERE, I know you're joshing Miss Marcia, for the Dweebster is only 12 miles away, and can make a run (or in his case, a stagger) straight through to Mohicanland today.  He's recovering from some serious misadventures in the forest, a place he should stay FAR away from, apparently.  

:  :I would
: : send Mr. Poe, but the poor man has the collywobbles and a
: : fever, so I have prescribed a strict regimen of bed rest for
: : him...lots and lots of bed rest. 

: Oh, YOU WISH!!!!  Ha!!!  My sister, Sassy Soothsayer, has taken a look at your doings, ma'am, and she knows the truth thereof.  If Mr. Poe were, indeed, to turn up on your doorstep, you'd pop your leather corset in shock and faint dead away!  You'd do well to continue your attempt at luring Simon Girty to your Heathen Hottub, if you ask me.  Leave the exquisitely beautiful and righteously upstanding Mr. Poe to clean livin', respectable ladies such as myself.  Between you and Capable Cora, Frontier Slut, the poor man must be reeling with moral indignation!

: Peace, okay...Sisterhood?  Notsomuchso! Let us go, Miss, and agree to our separate territories, and never the twain shall meet.  I salute you as ruler of your own realm (*me, bopping myself in the forehead with a wooden spatula*)and wish you the very best in your endeavors, be they ever so separate from mine.

: Yours Graciously (sorta),
: Miss Marcia



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