Bewitched
This blog has one single purpose: to sing the praises of the sweet creamy goodness that is Rachel.
For those of you who don't know, Rachel is the girlfriend of one of our bartenders, the multitalented Wendy, who, along with her band 3AM plays here every fourth Saturday of the month (for those of you keeping score at home, that means May 27th). Wendy is a force-- I mean, really. She is lovely, talented, intelligent, witty, an unbelievable singer, a helluva bartender, and just all-round great person. But what shines most about Wendy is her taste in women.
Rachel approached me the other day and told me how much she liked reading these blogs, which did my heart good. It's always nice to hear that your work is appreciated. But then, in a very unobtrusive way, Rachel obliquely tried to ascertain the reason behind what doubtless in her mind was some sort of glaring error, a lapse in judgement, an unconscious lacuna in my blog thought process. Eyes cast aside, hesitant, she finally mustered the courage to snap her head around, look me square in the eye, shake her finger in my face and scream, at the top of her lungs:
TOM!! WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU NEVER WRITTEN A BLOG ABOUT ME?!?!
Obviously, I had lost my mind and simply failed to share with a weary world the very essence of all that is good: my dear friend, Rachel.
So now, I am making amends. I'm enclosing the little biography I wrote on her for the online reference Wikipedia to help you get to know her, and then, I will simply laud and praise her in the manner she deserves:
Rachel ____________ was born on December 5, 1437 in Scheveningen, a small town on the Dutch coast. At the age of five, little Rachel was kidnapped by a fierce witch named Esmeralda Falafel, who intended to eat the adorable young girl with a side of spaetzle and brown bread. Seeing her fate sealed, Rachel summoned her formidable wits to trick Esmeralda into believing that her vagina was actually a serious wound that needed immediate "medical" attention. By making her think that all her blood, her heart, stomach and other internal organs were bound sooner or later to fall out through her punany, Rachel advised the witch to temporarily stuff the orifice with her handy broomstick. Naturally, having SUIT (Something Up In There) distracted the erstwhile cannibalistic witch, and little Rachel was able to make her escape, and at the same time steal the collar from her familiar, a black Abyssinian cat named Shakwanda. The cat's collar was the source of all Esmeralda's power, and she never again roamed the Dutch countryside.
Having thus rendered Esmeralda's pussy useless (in more ways than one), Rachel became a powerful sorceress in her own right, but has up until this point only used her power for good, never evil. As an immortal, she continues as she has for centuries to wreak positive change on the lives of those around her. Among the acts for which she is responsible are:
1483: A miraculous snowfall in the middle of July put out a forest fire that nearly decimated the small Belgian town of Kissenmeijass.
1521: In the French outpost of La Toitte, a little boy was saved from certain death by a poison ham after Rachel showed him disgusting photographs of Meat Loaf naked, which in turn made him vomit. It is worthy of note that neither photography nor Meat Loaf had been invented yet, proving the veracity of her witchcraft.
1674: Now making her home on the Eritrean coast, Rachel cast a spell that caused local monkeys to fart little white clouds, much to the delight of area children.
1811: On a freedom campaign with Simon Bolivar in South America, Rachel caused the gun barrels of an entire Spanish army brigade to flow freely with unending streams of pulpy grape juice and pectin. Needless to say, this caused the guns to jam.
1926: Constantly reinventing herself, Rachel is known at this time as the Lady Rachel DuMarr Pinckney-Smythe, and is a fixture in London society, performing card tricks and simple acts of chicanery and passing them off as magic. However, thanks to her true sorcery, the entire world was saved from a flesh-eating bacteria present in chicle, the primary ingredient in chewing gum. She eradicated the germ.
2006: The hypnotic power of Rachel's voice is displayed, as she sings "Kerosene" at the Lipstick Lounge's karaoke night, and causes this writer to fall madly in love with her.
Trust me, Wendy, I know I can't have her. But that won't keep me from continuing to worship her at the shrine I have specially built inside my home. It is my one remaining joy in life that, from time to time, Rachel allows me to bask in her radience and absorb the splendor of her very existence.
The rest of you should come out some night and you'll see what I mean.
Peace (and undying love for the one-and-only dreamy glow in an otherwise bleak existence, Rachel),
Tom
For those of you who don't know, Rachel is the girlfriend of one of our bartenders, the multitalented Wendy, who, along with her band 3AM plays here every fourth Saturday of the month (for those of you keeping score at home, that means May 27th). Wendy is a force-- I mean, really. She is lovely, talented, intelligent, witty, an unbelievable singer, a helluva bartender, and just all-round great person. But what shines most about Wendy is her taste in women.
Rachel approached me the other day and told me how much she liked reading these blogs, which did my heart good. It's always nice to hear that your work is appreciated. But then, in a very unobtrusive way, Rachel obliquely tried to ascertain the reason behind what doubtless in her mind was some sort of glaring error, a lapse in judgement, an unconscious lacuna in my blog thought process. Eyes cast aside, hesitant, she finally mustered the courage to snap her head around, look me square in the eye, shake her finger in my face and scream, at the top of her lungs:
TOM!! WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU NEVER WRITTEN A BLOG ABOUT ME?!?!
Obviously, I had lost my mind and simply failed to share with a weary world the very essence of all that is good: my dear friend, Rachel.
So now, I am making amends. I'm enclosing the little biography I wrote on her for the online reference Wikipedia to help you get to know her, and then, I will simply laud and praise her in the manner she deserves:
Rachel ____________ was born on December 5, 1437 in Scheveningen, a small town on the Dutch coast. At the age of five, little Rachel was kidnapped by a fierce witch named Esmeralda Falafel, who intended to eat the adorable young girl with a side of spaetzle and brown bread. Seeing her fate sealed, Rachel summoned her formidable wits to trick Esmeralda into believing that her vagina was actually a serious wound that needed immediate "medical" attention. By making her think that all her blood, her heart, stomach and other internal organs were bound sooner or later to fall out through her punany, Rachel advised the witch to temporarily stuff the orifice with her handy broomstick. Naturally, having SUIT (Something Up In There) distracted the erstwhile cannibalistic witch, and little Rachel was able to make her escape, and at the same time steal the collar from her familiar, a black Abyssinian cat named Shakwanda. The cat's collar was the source of all Esmeralda's power, and she never again roamed the Dutch countryside.
Having thus rendered Esmeralda's pussy useless (in more ways than one), Rachel became a powerful sorceress in her own right, but has up until this point only used her power for good, never evil. As an immortal, she continues as she has for centuries to wreak positive change on the lives of those around her. Among the acts for which she is responsible are:
The rest of you should come out some night and you'll see what I mean.
Peace (and undying love for the one-and-only dreamy glow in an otherwise bleak existence, Rachel),
Tom
posted by Thomas Horton at 3:46 PM
1 Comments:
*ROTFLMAO*
Tom, HYSTERICAL!
~School will be out in 4 days... see you Tues the 30th... Ree and Jen... Clarksville!
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