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Location: United States

Monday, October 16, 2006

Grief takes a surreal turn.

In my last post, you will remember that I had prudently decided to put only half the roses on my darling Aldo's grave, in order to preserve the good reputation I have worked hard to create and maintain here in Santa Royale. I was thinking I would keep the other flowers for myself, or place them on the tomb of an unknown soldier, or something.

But, as I placed the flowers on Aldo's grave, I suddenly noticed the dates on my Aldo's headstone. It said "1935-2096"!! I was shocked! First, because my Aldo barely looked 50, and yet he was actually 71 years old! And then I noticed the second date. "2096"--I thought to myself, it might be a clue that my Aldo isn't really dead!

I had just about pulled myself together again when I was startled to see that Aldo's grave was right next to that of his late wife Elise! I was stunned. It just didn't make sense. My Aldo was visiting from out of town. That's why he was staying at Hal's condo. So why would Elise be buried in Santa Royale? Quickly, to cover my discomfiture, I put the remaining roses on Elise's grave, and I went over to join my friend Toby, who had finally stopped whining about her guilty feelings.

I noticed as I approached her that she was again wearing the powder blue suit. I looked down and saw that my own outfit had turned back into a mournful deep violet.

Toby asked me, "Why the hell are you putting red roses on Aldo's grave? Do you want all our work to save your reputation to be for nothing?"

And I answered her, "You see, Toby--Aldo gave me flowers. It was my turn. But we have much bigger worries. There's something fishy going on here. Something twisted and evil."

And Toby said, "Come on. We can figure it out while we sit around the Charterstone pool sipping mojitos." So we headed home. But I still have an uneasy feeling about the questionable goings-on in that cemetary!

16 Comments:

Anonymous Kelly Stirling said...

Dear Mary,

I was wondering if you could contact Dr. Cory for me and have him recommend a good primate cardiologist. I am afraid this baboon heart transplant is not agreeing with Lou at all.

I don't know if you have noticed, but Lou has taken to shrieking and throwing feces while naked from the roof of our condo, and has been encouraging me to wear a grotesque blue prosthesis on my posterior as a sexual aid. I admit this is the most active we've been in years, but still.

With wifely concern,
Kelly Stirling

2:08 PM  
Anonymous the real victoria "toby" cameron said...

Dear Kelly,

I wouldn't worry too much about Lou. If you are honest with yourself, you know that off and on through the years, Lou has done his share of frolicking nude on the roof. Wilbur and Ian have often joined him, but Ian told me they were just throwing Baby Ruths.

I thought they tasted a little funny, though.

Befuddled as always,
Toby

5:36 PM  
Blogger Dr. Jeff Cory said...

Dear Kelly,

Alas, I am too distraught to offer you a primate cardiologist after Mary's brutal statment that I am "physically undesirable." I will have you know that my young charges here in Cambodia greatly admire my impressive pecs, highly defined lats and rippling six-pack abdomen -- so much so that some of them, rather than going on their nightly rounds (which are a necessary part of their training), prefer to stay with me!

It leaves me seething with envy that Mary bought a dozen red roses for the late Mr. Kelrast, when all she ever bought me was a syringe monogrammed with our initials inside a heart. And it wasn't even a silver syringe, but plastic! At least I have put it to good use here, where it calms some of the more obstreperous little ones when they are not eager to pitch in and do their part for a better, more prosperous hospital.

For Lou, my best advice would be to scan the roads around Santa Royale. With the frequentcy with which cars there plunge over cliffs, surely a matching human heart will soon become available, which can be transplanted in place of his current baboon heart; you can always spread your greasy tofu croquettes on strategic curves on the roadway just to expedite the process!

Dejectedly,
Dr. Jeff

12:14 AM  
Anonymous Lou Sitrling said...

I absolutely deny that there is a problem. I would highly recommend feces-throwing to anyone in need of diversion - it's an enchanting hobby. Anyway Mary, I quite understand your reluctance to share your special apple cake recipe. However, armed with the knowledge that the only ingredients are cinammon, flour, and fruit, Kelly and I have been busy in the kitchen and may just have managed to "reverse engineer" your formula. I will share our recipe below.

Lou and Kelly Stirling's Special Apple Cake

2 cups cinnamon
1 cup flour
3 pieces fruit
Lamb stew to taste

1. With a wire whisk, beat fruit, cinnamon, flour, and stew into a brown-colored blob.
2. Microwave on "Pasta And Other" setting for 45 minutes.
3. Serve while warm.

As you can see Kelly has added one touch of her own: the lamb stew seems to bind things together marvelously. I fear it might otherwise be somewhat dry - in fact yours is one of the only cakes I have had with absolutely no liquid ingredients.

6:04 AM  
Anonymous Frodo said...

"One lamb to rule them all,
One lamb to find them,
One lamb to bring them all,
and in the apple cake bind them."

7:46 PM  
Anonymous Denny Worth said...

Grandmother,

Well, that explains why Lou and Kelly Stirling's Special Apple Cake they gave me to replace the one they stole from me, had the taste it did. I hadn’t eaten anything so terrible since I was forced to eat grass for sustenance during the Great Depression…and the grass tasted better.

I am not sure why you would be surprised Aldo Kelrast, at 71 looked so young. After all, grandmother, you look quite a big younger now than you did during the Great Depression. But a good steady diet of fresh apples had its positive effect. If anything, I would say you look younger every year. Except for 1992, you were never better-looking than you were in that year. You looked practically like a debutante at a ball that year. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

As for the year on Aldo Kelrast’s gravestone, it could be a simple error, or it could be a clear indication that something has gone wrong in the burial. It wouldn’t be the first time you went to the funeral of someone you thought was dead, but was actually in a coma, and some other person had been buried in their place. It’s very troubling when dead people pop up unexpectedly. Fortunately, you’ve never had any encounters with zombies. Wilbur Weston is a little like a zombie, but I don’t think he counts officially until he tries to eat someone’s brains by a method other than writing a syndicated advice column.

Not to worry, grandmother. If I see anyone coming after you who looks like Aldo Kelrast, I will bop him over the head with my cane. A crippled grandson has to be good for something.

Love,
Denny Worth

3:42 PM  
Blogger Dr. Jeff Cory said...

Dearest Mary,

I see that you are planning "a different route" to contact me here in Cambodia. While contacting me through this blog is fine (even hough it exposes to the world our troubled relationship), I implore you not to IM me on my AIM account, doc4kidz.

It is not widely known, but former Representative Mark Foley is choosing to do his rehab here at the hospital, and part of his therapy is to use my AIM account for eight hours a day. The youth from all over the world whom he meets over the Internet give him such excitement, and such fortitude for his difficult recovery! I fear that if he were to find a 106-year-old woman such as you on the other side of his instant messages, he might relapse!

That would be a tragedy, for when he has completed his rehab, former Representative Foley plans to set up a page program right here in Phnom Penh. He has already picked out the tight, form-fitting uniforms for the pages. The program will provide many jobs for our young people, and will significantly improve the servicing in the Cambodian Parliament!

With my heartfelt emotional calls to you unanswered,

Dr. Jeff

9:12 PM  
Anonymous the real victoria "toby" cameron said...

Mary,

I am confused. You have indicated to me that you are concerned about Doctor Jeff Cory's lack of correspondence. I hear that you have even expressed your worries to his children, Drew and Adrian.

And yet, I can see here that Jeff has been posting comments on a regular basis. Rather cryptic comments, I admit, but communication nonetheless. Are you of the opinion that these missives may not be from Jeff at all, but from some impostor? Perhaps it is yet another stalker - it looks like a fresh intervention may be in order. Please let me know your feelings on this.

Also, I can never remember - Drew and Adrian... which one is the son, and which one is the daughter? And why are we wearing these dowdy sweats every time we go on a power walk? There are such cute options in active wear these days.

Dazed,
Toby

9:16 AM  
Anonymous Adrian Cory, M.D. said...

Mary,

I was shocked to see you throw down a gang sign during today's strip. While I understand that Dad's prolonged dalliances at a seedy underage "clinic" in the red light district of Phnom Penh may be traumatic, I thought your days with the Sloan Street Killaz were far behind you. Also, your pupils appear to be dilated so far that I can hardly see the whites (or sclerae) of your eyes. Drew and I will certainly have to look into these reports of missing medications during your sporadic "volunteer" shifts.

Sincerely,
Adrian A. Cory, M.D.

8:39 AM  
Blogger Dr. Jeff Cory said...

Dear Adrian,

I am terribly disappointed that you could imagine, even for a moment, that the clinic is "seedy." From the time that you and your brother or sister (Like Mrs. Cameron, I have always found it hard to tell the two of you apart; how I wish that your mother had not insisted on androgynous names for you before running off with that lesbian truck driver from Dubuque while you were infants!) were children, I have always taught you that quality is of the utmost importance, and that the Cory name must be associated exclusively with the highest of standards!

My commitment to the clinic is all-consuming. Far from being "seedy," it is the only one in Southeast Asia with heart-shaped examination tables, mirrored ceilings in the examination rooms, and medical gowns made of the finest, most diaphanous silk, imprinted with elegant batik patterns created by master Javanese craftspersons!

Lovingly, and yet feeling the hurt of your doubt,

Dr. Dad

9:56 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dear Diary,

Yes, I have abandoned my blog - for the nonce. But I shall not stay my Hand!! The Syndicate - King Features - has taken exception to what they view as my "slatternly, sluttish exprerssion" in the blog - on my own time mind you - and threatened to divert the plot of the strip, and make my new home the Loiusiana Mental Asylum. They have not listened to my arguments that healthy lustful expression and even behavior is highly distinct from sluttish behaviour or expression. My lip gloss is always neat and fresh, my outfits while garish perhaps in color (no fault of mine!) are always clean and neat, and might I say, stylish?. I am NOT A SLUT!! I am however, for the moment, heartbroken and can write no more.

With affection,

Mary Worth

12:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Are you serious?

6:02 PM  
Anonymous Mrs. Beedie From Down the Hall said...

Mary, say it's not so! Everyone will miss out on my passionate Sapphic romance with the mysterious but much older Ella Byrd. I just joined her for a cup of tea, and we were surprised at what we discovered about each other..

Mrs. Beedie

5:37 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

King Features may be blowing smoke. Under copyright law, parody is fair use. I don't know the rules for satire, but this is clearly a parody or satire blog, rather than an actual use of the characters.

9:30 PM  
Anonymous the real victoria "toby" cameron said...

But....what are you saying, Anonymous? (If that is your real name.)

Are you referring to me as nothing more substantial than an imitation of a fictitious character?

I thought that Mary, Jeff, Aldo, Ian, Wilbur, and I - along with the others whose names I haven't bothered to learn - nicely fleshed out the two-dimensional travesties in the daily comics.

On the other hand, I am flattered that anyone thinks me capable of satire or parody. Ian always said I sounded so cute when I tried to act all serious. I guess he was right.

If they try to shut Mary down, I guess they'll also be after Josh over at the Comics Curmudgeon. http://joshreads.com/

2:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dear Children, and that includes you, the Real Toby Cameron, and of course Ian and Jeff and …..Enough. You know who you are. While we live, chat, scheme and lust together, and we drove Dear Aldo to his death together, we are but a story-line, a plot ever shifting at the whim of …of who, of what?

Oh the hell with theology. As a poet once said, we are but Pawns in His Game. Some damn lawyer has threatened to have me committed and shipped off to the Asylum where I will wear a Scarlet Letter: To Wit: “S” for Slut. As he phrased it. He suggested I am unworthy, get it, Un-Worth-y.

Dearest Toby, you asked me a question. Are we fictional characters? Or even more outré, are we imitations of fictional characters? What is reality; what is a dream?? Toby, my answer to your query has been roundabout in coming: We are each fictions of our own consciousness. So yes, I am a fictional character, and you are merely a fictional character. Some have suggested you are a poor imitation perhaps due to the limitation of your intellect and might I even suggest, limitation of the breadth and depth of your consciousness. Ah, to be a carefree primitive. Like you, Toby. I “wanted” Aldo; Capt. Kangaroo would have done in a pinch. I am primitive you see and I’m pining for some lovin’, children. But I digress and regress, because what I need is some sexual congress. Uh-oh, I sense a “screw” coming loose, oh ah-ha-ha help me I can’t stop….Oh the hell with it, send me to the loony bin; I know I will find a tuned up hunk there. Adieu Jeff, and give my love to the children.

12:19 PM  

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