The encounter of meeting Ruth

   
                As you know ( or should know ) the name's Winston, and it has been a short amount of time since my last comment. Although, one of Ruth's bookclub members asked a sudden question earlier today. " How did you two meet each other?" I had to tell you folks before I can even think about  answering to her. Here's the story...


        It all began when I first joined the military with Myron. We had liberty for the weekend, so we did the logical thing and went to the town's pub. Unfortunately, the buffoon that ran the pub, RAN OUT of ice! Who runs out of ice in a town pub! Foolishness! Anyway, I was the chosen "ice master" and went out to purchase ice. On my way there, I caught my eyes on three lassies in the darkness. I ( sadly) followed them, for there was no suspense or mystery in the pub five miles down. Boy, could these ladies walk! I was getting rather lost but the alcohol made most of decisions for the night.


   As my eyes slowly adjusted to night, I could see more details than before. They seemed to carry a rather large container. As a son of the military, my mind could only picture a bomb or weapon of some sort. My gut kept yapping to my limbs to rush to them, yet my mouth nor body could not cooperate. I kept silent. Then, a hand grabbed my right shoulder. It was Myron, half drunk. He encountered the container and grew silent, then winked at me. The ladies turned one last corner. They had reached their destination. A rectangle of light appeared, and out came a woman from the building. They handed her the container. Myron leaped in the air, most likely to knock the container from the lady's hands. He instead crashed into a brick wall.


       The woman opened the box to find a wooden stick, carved at the end, like the head of a swan. That was how Myron encountered Shinscina. I met Ruth when I returned to the pub. She had yelled " Where's the Rum?!" The rest is for me to know and for you to find out.

Love and Hate from the West.

         Horse apples! Please pardon my behavior folks. I am currently furious with Ruth. See, I have designed a type of chair that has the perfect combination of wood and bark. It was both comfortable and supportive, unlike Ruth's " weight gain" chair that would collapse every time just a puny amount of weight was set upon it. It was perfection. It had just gone on sale on the local market. I walked with pride I had not felt since the first time Myron shot me in the military. Anyway, as I was walking the road of pleasure, I walked by a food-store of some particular kind named California Pizza Kitchen.


    A television hung from a yellow tile ceiling, the commercial of my chair was displayed. I felt so warm inside, nothing could bring me down ( beside a girl scout). Then, some twerp changed the channel right before the juiciest section. What played was the "Where's the Beef" commercial starring Ruth, her foolish observation had made everyone there start laughing.

   I stormed out and went back to my territory. I opened the porch to find my son Cookie and his seven year-old daughter Elise having a sip of coffee with Ruth. Cookie told me everything that had been going on in his life and my anger was forgotten ( for now). Cookie sat down once again and remembered one more shocking thing. He said that my little Elise, was joining the " Brownies" girl scout group! I could just picture it, her begging constantly every person she came upon for them to buy ONE box and then never stop! What was worse was that all the boxes she doesn't sell, the relatives buy. Then, the other girl-scouts witness this and beg to sell MORE, and it was apparently RUTH"S idea!


I will nag Ruth in the morning. Make sure she stays off the window browser.

Half a play too short!

      Howdy, it's me Winston. My greatest apologies for how late I am posting. My happiness grows during the weekdays because every single one of them girl scouts is off to bus stop for six and a half glorious hours. What brings me down is the weekends when they come back and nag me any hour they please. Therefore, every Saturday I go to the downtown theater with Myron. All seven hours of it, is seven hours without those girl scouts.

  Myron and I always sneak in butterscotches to throw at Alicia Grunonto's only singing verse. However today turned out horribly. Myron's growing hate to Cremon Meson had reached its maximum point. Without noticing, Myron had already snatched the butterscotches from Ruth's fanny pack. Can't Myron get it through his head that butterscotches should only be thrown after it's fourth intermission! Without a moment to spare, we were escorted from the theater from that obnoxious middle-aged woman in a ridiculous blue cap.

 Wait, is that a girl scout?! One minute folks.


 So this is the famous " window browser" Winston has been rambling about. Myron here, but you can but you can just call me  Myron. I have been on Winston's side since the old boathouse adventure. Ever since my wife Shinscina started jogging with Ruth, we are just like old times. Shoot! Winston just finished throwing graham crackers at the girl scouts, I better hide!