TerryWalstrom

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Posts by TerryWalstrom

• 
  7

  60's Sexual Revolution to the outing of Powerful Predators

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  in the late 1960's a big change happened in sexual culture in the u.s. and england.women asserted their "right" to become more aggressive and obtrusive in their dealings with men.

  however, the louts, the jerks, the hyper-aggressive males were only encouraged (in their male fantasies) to lower women even more as a result of this.

  bra burning, short skirts, "free sex", was seen as a green light to do as you please and to relegate "respect for women" to discarded and antiquated manners of a bygone generation.i was in a puritanical religious cult during all this.when all the "fun" began, i was either in prison or going door to door peddling end of the world scenarios.the chief reason i got married was to avoid sex!

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  TerryWalstrom

  Until 1979, State Laws were such it was viewed as impossible for a husband to "rape" his wife.
  Her Christian duty was to submit and not deny him in the first place.
  In my lifetime, in fact.
  ______
  In answer to the query:
  "maybe they stayed indoors and raped their wives instead."
  
  Citation:
  http://time.com/3975175/spousal-rape-case-history/

  
  
  
• 
  7

  60's Sexual Revolution to the outing of Powerful Predators

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  in the late 1960's a big change happened in sexual culture in the u.s. and england.women asserted their "right" to become more aggressive and obtrusive in their dealings with men.

  however, the louts, the jerks, the hyper-aggressive males were only encouraged (in their male fantasies) to lower women even more as a result of this.

  bra burning, short skirts, "free sex", was seen as a green light to do as you please and to relegate "respect for women" to discarded and antiquated manners of a bygone generation.i was in a puritanical religious cult during all this.when all the "fun" began, i was either in prison or going door to door peddling end of the world scenarios.the chief reason i got married was to avoid sex!

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  TerryWalstrom

  I "blame" WARS and what they did to generations of men.
  
  I see civilization in the last few hundred years as chunks of time between World Wars.
  Men went off to fight WWI and left women at home.
  The much older men and the younger guys stayed behind to take up the slack.
  
  Each time this sort of thing occurs, there is a power shift.

  
  
  The MAN OF THE HOUSE position was filled by either old men or young men who had to "take care of the women."
  This meant hard work and sacrifice.
  Those men were put upon, exhausted, and strained by exigency.
  
  After the wars were over and the soldiers returned home--WHO WERE THEY INSIDE? These weren't the same men who were little boys taken to church and told, "Thou shall not kill."
  These were damaged people who had lived daily horrors of life or death
  So what?
  So, the "BAD NATURE" of such men is let loose.
  The scourge of surviving or dying had stripped these men (not all--but many) of civilized values.
  
  They had "needs."
  Food on the table. Sex. Respect.
  Women were seen as needing to OBEY and SUBMIT.
  
  If those needs weren't met--depending on the man and his circumstances--he might well become demanding, coarse, bullying and abusive.
  Women had VERY FEW resources to survive outside of trading their sex.
  What else could they bargain with?
  
  I said all the above so I could say this:
  Several generations of men and women were in a crucible which molded their habits, ethos, thinking, core beliefs, and POWER STRUCTURE.
  
  Those people were hardened. They were forged by forces insuperable.
  These are Red State folks for the most part.
  The generations which came after them were increasingly disgusted by those War Year Values.
  
  The 60's was the first generational BREAK in sex and culture.
  That divide was never healed.
  That generation is one of two worlds.
  Until my BOOMER generation has vanished, the voting influence (vote for Trump, McCain, etc.) will remain powerful enough to create damage.
  
  Electing Donald Trump was the work of Baby Boomers with American flags, guns, the Bible, and all those "core values" sizzling at white-hot zeal.
  That generation has many double standards about men, women, sex, and behavior in general. We speak with forked tongue because we suffer mightily from cognitive dissonance. It is the aftermath, the blowback, the collateral damage wrought by wars.
  
  That is why I said what I said.
  
• 
  35

  Sexual Depredation as a function of male society by men of a Certain Age

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i would like to remind those folks younger than i that it was very few years ago when almost the entire planet earth was run by and for the benefit of men.women have throughout history been the property of men.due to religious restrictions, teachings, and fundamentalist doctrines, women in the largest societies on earth right now (muslim, chinese, n.korean) have almost no human rights at all.next year, in june, women will, for the 1st time, be allowed in arabia to drive---but--only if they are 30 years old or older, and for only a few hours per day!the old testament laws (read through them sometime) are horrifying reflective of prejudice toward gender, bodily cleanliness, guilt-tripping, and anonymity.

  (what was noah's wife's name?

  lot's wife?

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  TerryWalstrom

  So why does the cause of feminism need you and the rest of us to die?
  _____
  
  
  I see civilization in the last few hundred years as chunks of time between World Wars.
  Men went off to fight WWI and left women at home.
  The older men and the younger men stayed behind.
  Each time this sort of thing occurs, there is a power shift.
  The MAN OF THE HOUSE position was filled by either old men or young men who had to "take care of the women."
  This meant hard work and sacrifice.
  Those men were put upon, exhausted, and strained by exigency.
  So what?
  So, the "BAD NATURE" of such men is let loose.
  They have "needs."
  Food on the table. Sex. Respect.
  If those needs weren't met--depending on the man and his circumstances--he might well become demanding, coarse, bullying and abusive.
  Women had VERY FEW resources to survive outside of trading their sex.
  What else could they bargain with?
  I said all the above so I could say this:
  Several generations of men and women were in a crucible which molded their habits, ethos, thinking, core beliefs, and POWER STRUCTURE.
  
  Those people were hardened. They were forged by forces insuperable. These are Red State folks.
  The generations which came after them were increasingly disgusted.
  
  The 60's was the first generational BREAK in sex and culture.
  That divide was never healed.
  That generation is one of two worlds.
  Until my BOOMER generation has vanished, the voting influence (vote for Trump, McCain, etc.) will remain powerful enough to create damage.
  
  Electing Donald Trump was the work of Baby Boomers with American flags, guns, the Bible, and all those "core values" sizzling at white-hot zeal.
  That generation has many double standards about men, women, sex, and behavior in general. We speak with forked tongue because we suffer mightily from cognitive dissonance. It is the aftermath, the blowback, the collateral damage wrought by wars.
  
  That is why I said what I said.
• 
  7

  60's Sexual Revolution to the outing of Powerful Predators

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  in the late 1960's a big change happened in sexual culture in the u.s. and england.women asserted their "right" to become more aggressive and obtrusive in their dealings with men.

  however, the louts, the jerks, the hyper-aggressive males were only encouraged (in their male fantasies) to lower women even more as a result of this.

  bra burning, short skirts, "free sex", was seen as a green light to do as you please and to relegate "respect for women" to discarded and antiquated manners of a bygone generation.i was in a puritanical religious cult during all this.when all the "fun" began, i was either in prison or going door to door peddling end of the world scenarios.the chief reason i got married was to avoid sex!

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  TerryWalstrom

  In the late 1960's a BIG change happened in sexual culture in the U.S. and England.
  Women asserted their "right" to become more aggressive and obtrusive in their dealings with men.
  
  However, the louts, the jerks, the hyper-aggressive males were only encouraged (in their male fantasies) to lower women even more as a result of this.
  
  Bra burning, short skirts, "free sex", was seen as a green light to do as you please and to relegate "respect for women" to discarded and antiquated manners of a bygone generation.
  
  
  I was in a Puritanical religious cult during all this.
  
  When all the "fun" began, I was either in prison or going door to door peddling End of the World scenarios.
  The chief reason I got married was to AVOID sex! (Of a religiously termed "illicit" nature.)
  In a way, that is as sick as anything else going wrong with my generation of males.
  
  I should NOT have been married when I decided I must.
  How many JW's did the same and ended up frustrated and unfulfilled?
  Religious cults and evangelical churches sent forth into this world some overhyped dirty minds.
  I have discovered in the last few years by conversing with various EX-JW's the astounding fact their JW husbands were sick, twisted, and often cold sexual partners.
  Men outside of religion and men inside religion had frustrations of a different sort. It was a question of personal character on the one hand and simply the "way things were" when they were born.
  
  What women, in general, did not realize was this.
  Men dominated culture, business, religion, politics, and damned near everything else. Opening the door to "equality" in sex was an invitation to BACKFIRE.(Unintended consequences.)
  
  Men of a predatory nature--sleazy, ill-mannered, and entitled--would take full advantage of the imbalance in power by leveraging a young woman's desire to advance by trading her sex for opportunities.
  
  When I was a young man, my ideas about how men treated women whom they wanted as sex partners were "modeled" for me in movies and books. James Bond, Cary Grant, Rock Hudson, had very colorful techniques. I watched, I listened, I learned.
  All the above were mostly hyped fiction and male fantasy fulfillment.
  
  HOW WAS I TO KNOW the difference?
  
  Men are the gatekeepers.
  Not as much or as many or as exclusively as before the sexual revolution. Men have been driven underground in their malfeasance. They've become less obvious. Predators have adapted to the politically correct language to camouflage their intentions.
  In fact, outspoken men who make a loud gesture of support may well be signaling more than their "virtue"---it may be their "sheep's clothing" on the wolf.
  
  Congregations are run by MEN exclusively. What filter, what test is there to root out predators or twisted characters with disgusting minds?
  NONE.
  It is what men "profess" with their lips and their outward behavior which indicates whether they'll make great Elders or not.
  
  One thing for sure, "Jehovah's Holy Spirit" is guiding nothing.
  Outside the Kingdom Hall, bad men and good men are actually competing for the same jobs and JW's seldom have positions of any power in real life. They can only wield power at HOME spiritually and in the Hall with privileges.
  When "obey your husband" comes into the bedroom--red flags may well fly.
  
  All the bad guys are STILL THERE. They spin a web and catch a fly and only if the fly escapes and blows the whistle is the spider in the harsh spotlight of public disdain and retribution.
  MEN WHO PREY ON WOMEN are everywhere!
  They have always been there.
  
  They look out for each other. They have each other's back. They play dumb. They pretend to be "shocked" if somebody is exposed who is their partner in crime.
  CALLING THEM WHAT THEY ARE is a gigantic advancement in civilization!
  We need to keep up the trend and sniff out who is hiding behind what covers of civility and our willingness to show NO MERCY is the only thing which matters.
  Unless these men pay a huge price--unless they are fully held accountable--nothing will change except a cosmetic sense of fake rehabilitation.
  My opinion?
  You CANNOT REHABILITATE a sex predator. Never. Never. Never.
  It is etched into the very nature of their character.
  You can make them sneakier and they'll say all the right words--but don't be fooled by the idea of repentance.
  Repentance is our stupidity for believing they can change.
  
• 
  32

  not a new topic - really a pet peave

  by Moster in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  makes me crazy:.

  there: go over there!.

  their: they own it; belonging to etc.. for the love of pete - use them correctly!.

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  TerryWalstrom

  There is a free background program you can run called Grammarly which will solve this problem.

  http://www.thewindowsclub.com/grammarly-free-firefox-chrome-windows
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  59

  A Little Direction Please

  by Brian J in

  1. social
  2. relationships

  i'm an active elder, cobe, just got home from the meeting where i handled the treasures part and concluded by announcing a friend of mine has been d/f,.....blah blah blah...and over the last year have woken up.

  i simply cannot spill my guts to my wife and children as it would be family suicide.

  i have zero desire to bash, spread my feelings, or become an "apostate".

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  TerryWalstrom

  I would suggest printing some copies of the document below at a print shop locally and having it assembled into a simple ring binder with an unobtrusive cover.
  Label HISTORY of OLD LIGHT / NEW LIGHT through the years
  
  Leave it out in the open around the house.
  There is nothing inside which can be disputed. Better still, it speaks for itself.
  https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UrjfNBy6jlZ8lSibVe7VSRgihTxkwqbrLUzIHLGFH-E/edit?usp=sharing

  
  
  
• 
  7

  Roommates, Zombies and Napoleon Brandy

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the setting: i live in a big house as a renter of one bedroom.

  there are four other bedrooms and roommates.one of the more recent move-ins is robert.

  robert drives a very large blue truck with a 50mm machine gun mount on the hood, stenciled lettering: zombie assault vehicle, and --well...i've come to think of him as robert the zombie killer.then, there's a young fellow with wild, long, bizarre hair, and another guy with dozens of tats... fun and roommate games___ i received the text about an hour after i arrived back at the house.

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  TerryWalstrom

  I'll have to check out A.S.I.P. A.S.A.P.

  Thanks!
• 
  7

  Roommates, Zombies and Napoleon Brandy

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the setting: i live in a big house as a renter of one bedroom.

  there are four other bedrooms and roommates.one of the more recent move-ins is robert.

  robert drives a very large blue truck with a 50mm machine gun mount on the hood, stenciled lettering: zombie assault vehicle, and --well...i've come to think of him as robert the zombie killer.then, there's a young fellow with wild, long, bizarre hair, and another guy with dozens of tats... fun and roommate games___ i received the text about an hour after i arrived back at the house.

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  TerryWalstrom

  Weird Al (my Hippy Dippy roommate) asked the question:
  "Do you got any wine?"
  Well...
  "I do got."
  So, I pull the bottle out of my sacred hidey hole.
  Why?
  Weird Al has found a special place my widdle heart.
  He's sooo damn sincere.
  When I rode up on my bicycle and came around the corner earlier this evening, Weird Al was rockin' out with his electric guitar outside in the courtyard.
  He looked embarrassed.
  I laughed.
  "What-no amplifier?"
  "Oh, hey man--like, Dude..I was wailin' and the neighbor next door came over."
  "Yes...?"
  "And like, he sort of made it pretty clear."
  "Yes...?"
  "He's not one to appreciate my amplifier. So, I unplugged."
  "That's cool."
  "Yeah. Dude. Fuckin' A."
  ___
  After I magically produced my finest $3 bottle of Winking Owl Shibaz, Weird Al assured me he could open it.

  "But Al, we don't have an opener. When Richard moved out, he took his corkscrew with him."

  "Dude! Dude! I can, like, do this thing. I know how to open a cork."

  Ten minutes later, he had attacked the stubborn bottle with scissors, a paintbrush handle, a pair of pliers, and his teeth.
  The cork remained steadfast and virginal.

  "Dude!!" He was clearly vexed. Mightily.

  I took mercy on him.
  I suggested we might want to invest in a corkscrew which could be purchased at the Dollar Tree for a buck.
  He departed like a puppy for a bag of puppy chow.
  Then, the other Terry arrived. ("I'm the cute one." You'll recall his words.)

  He had shared his grotesque bottle of Chilean wine with me last night.
  We swapped ex-wife stories.
  This evening as he walked in my eyes brightened.

  "There's the second best Terry in the entire house and the owner of a remarkable forensic device known as the corkscrew!"
  I gestured toward my bottle of Winking Owl.
  Quicker than you could say, "Bob's yer Uncle." The wine was flowing into our glasses.
  We toasted our favorite body parts and started killing the bottle.
  After about half an hour, Weird Al suddenly returns.

  "Ah, like--Dude--I got lost."

  The two Terry's gave each other a look.

  Weird Al revealed a wonderful corkscrew.
  "How much was it?"
  "Dude, it was only like four ninety-eight and some change."
  "Where'd you buy it?"
  "Dude, it was the Dollar store."
  The two Terry's gave each other a look.
  _____
  Where is Weird Al as I type these words?
  He's headed to Trader Joe's for more wine.
  There wasn't any left, you see.
  It was, um, like--ya know...Dude--EMPTY!
  

  ____
  I am sitting here now watching Weird Al try to work a corkscrew on the wine he just brought back from Trader Joe's.
  It is like watching a hominid assemble furniture from IKEA.
  ____
  I've never seen a wine glass topped off with such proficiency as last night.
  As I removed myself from the kitchen, Al was teetering in the center of the kitchen, wine glass in hand, deep in contemplation of some of our universe's greatest abstractions.
  "It's like...ya know? Dude? It's...it's like that."
  I couldn't have agreed more.
  This morning, two dead wine bottles lay under the table like strangulation victims on a morgue slab.
  There was no sign of Al's body. I assume he is upstairs slumbering.
  
• 
  7

  Roommates, Zombies and Napoleon Brandy

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the setting: i live in a big house as a renter of one bedroom.

  there are four other bedrooms and roommates.one of the more recent move-ins is robert.

  robert drives a very large blue truck with a 50mm machine gun mount on the hood, stenciled lettering: zombie assault vehicle, and --well...i've come to think of him as robert the zombie killer.then, there's a young fellow with wild, long, bizarre hair, and another guy with dozens of tats... fun and roommate games___ i received the text about an hour after i arrived back at the house.

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  TerryWalstrom

  There is an amazing variety of what I call "human beans" at both Starbucks and who dwell as my roommates.
  I think of them as fodder for storytelling.
  I don't know who da mudder is.
• 
  7

  Roommates, Zombies and Napoleon Brandy

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the setting: i live in a big house as a renter of one bedroom.

  there are four other bedrooms and roommates.one of the more recent move-ins is robert.

  robert drives a very large blue truck with a 50mm machine gun mount on the hood, stenciled lettering: zombie assault vehicle, and --well...i've come to think of him as robert the zombie killer.then, there's a young fellow with wild, long, bizarre hair, and another guy with dozens of tats... fun and roommate games___ i received the text about an hour after i arrived back at the house.

  1. 
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  TerryWalstrom

  The setting: I live in a big house as a renter of one bedroom.
  There are four other bedrooms and roommates.
  One of the more recent move-ins is Robert. Robert drives a very large blue truck with a 50mm machine gun mount on the hood, stenciled lettering: Zombie Assault Vehicle, and --well...I've come to think of him as Robert the Zombie killer.
  Then, there's a young fellow with wild, long, bizarre hair, and another guy with dozens of tats...
  
  FUN and ROOMMATE GAMES
  ___
  I received the text about an hour after I arrived back at the house. It was Robert the Zombie killer.
  
  "Would you like to play checkers or chess later on this evening?"
  
  I sat thinking.
  'Surely this would make for an interesting story to write later.'
  I texted back the one word: "Chess."
  
  Before the evening was over, the following cast of characters would be larking about in the kitchen.
  
  Terry (Crow Wrangler)
  Robert (Zombie Apocalypticist)
  Shay (Tattoos. So many)
  Weird Al (Curly electrified hair straight out)
  Lulu and Sadie (Robert's idea of fun guests)
  
  

  I will switch to fake names to protect the innocent. (Me.)
  _____________

  Zombie Killer: “I invited some girls.”
  
  Crow Wrangler: “To do what?”
  
  Z.K.: “They’re comin’ over. “
  
  C.W.: “To do what?”

  Z.K.: “My wife and I are gettin’ a divorce.”
  C.W.: “Which means…?
  Z.K..: “When the cat’s away the mice come play.”
  
  

  C.W.: “So, am I to understand we’re playing with mice and not chess?”
  Z.K.: “Nah. We can do both! When’s the last time you had some fun?”
  C.W.: “Just before I ended up in prison.”
  Z.K.: “What? Yer lyin’--aren’t ya?”
  C.W. “I wish.”

  Z.K.: “What was you in prison about?”
  C.W. “About two years.”
  Z.K. “Nah--I mean what’d ya do?”
  C.W. “I murdered my previous roommate in cold blood.”
  Z.K.: (Snickers. Stops and makes a serious face.) “Na-h-h-h.”
  ______

  (Ding Dong)
  Robert: “That was the doorbell?”
  Me: “Or a prophecy of things to come.”

  Robert sashays to the front door while I pour a stiff shot of Napoleon brandy.
  The thought crosses my mind as to what happened to Napoleon.
  I hear a woman’s voice. It sounds like Carol Burnett when she played the character “Eunice.”
  Footsteps approach.

  Lulu: “Say, could you come help us get Sadie out of the backseat my car?”
  
  Me: “Hello to you, too.”
  
  Lulu: “Oh--excuse my manners. Could you---?”
  
  Me: “My name is Terry.”
  
  Lulu: “Oh--I’m Lulu--could you come help us get Sadie out of the backseat my car?”

  Robert: “Sadie is passed out. We’ll have to lift her out of the back seat and carry her inside.”
  
  Me: “Hold on, hold on--wait! Is there any reason why we shouldn’t just let her stay in the backseat of the car? What’s wrong with her?”
  
  

  Lulu: “Aw, she’s got a ‘condition.’.
  Me: “What condition is her ‘condition’ in right now?”
  
  

  Robert: “Sadie is passed out. We’ll have to lift her out of the back seat and carry her inside.”
  Me: “Did you ever see the movie WEEKEND AT BERNIE’S?”
  Lulu : “Sadie ain’t dead. She’s just got a ‘condition.’”
  Me: “But wait--hold on--why can’t she just sleep it off IN THE CAR?”
  
  

  Lulu: “She’s in the backseat of my car. Sometimes she craps her pants.”
  (Long pause while I pour a larger glass of Napoleon brandy and chug it.)

  Me: “So, if I follow your chain of logic here...it is better to have her INSIDE THE HOUSE on the kitchen floor crapping her pants?”

  Robert: “Yeah, Lulu--what about that? You gonna change her diaper?”

  Me: “DIAPER?”

  Lulu: “Robert, she don’t want nobody knowin' ’that. Why’d you say that to a perfect stranger?”

  Me: “Hang on here just one minute. Just to keep the record straight. I’m NOT perfect.”

  Robert: “Okay, let’s go get her and we’ll work this out while we’re playing chess.”
  _______
  We three marched out to the driveway where a 1955 blue Nash Rambler with dents like the surface of the moon gleamed under starlight.
  In the backseat was a lady (I’m being very restrained, gentlemanly, and polite as I write these words) of about 110 years of age sprawled in the back seat.
  She was snoring. Her very white skin was like---oh hell, just use your imagination.
  I don’t want to think about it anymore!
  
  

  We hefted her every which way, yanking on ankles, tugging on elbows… It was a push-me-pull-you situation.
  At long last, Robert and Lulu managed to drag Sadie the unconscious lady into the house.
  I stood still in the driveway wondering how far I could run and how fast I’d get there.
  ___________
  
  __________

  Hail Hail the Gang’s All Here

  Sadie had been deposited like the body of a deer in a highway accident on the carpet in the living room.

  Imagine in your mind what it would look like if somebody threw their grandmother out of an airplane without a parachute and she had fallen ten thousand feet, then crashed through the roof onto your living room rug.

  Got that picture in your mind?
  THAT is what it looked like.

  We turned off the lights so we didn’t have to look at her and all sat down at the kitchen table.
  ________

  Me: “So, Sadie is who, exactly--your Grandmother?”

  Lulu: (Offended): “Don’t be a smart ass! She’s my sister! She don’t look her best right now.”

  Me: (Before I can stop myself) “I should hope not.”

  Robert: “Shall we all play chess now?”

  Lulu: “Bobby, I didn’t come over here to play no damn game of Chest.
  I thought we was gonna party.”

  Robert: “It ain’t gonna be no party with your sister all zonked out like that.
  Now my friend Terry here ain’t got no date!”

  Me: (Beginning to come out of my skin) “Wuh-wuh Whoa. Hang fire. Nobody said anything about a DATE! I’m more than happy to leave the two of you to your own resources and I’ll just go to my room and clip my toenails.”
  ___

  From the darkened living room the sound of a crash could be heard, followed by a loud “OOF!” A string of colorful cusswords and astonishment erupted next.

  All three of us bolted from the kitchen into the living room and clicked on the light.

  From upstairs, one of the new roommates, Shay (Sheffield) was lying draped across the body of Sadie.
  
  

  Lulu: “What the F**K! Get off my damn sister! Who told you-you could get on top of her?”

  Shay: (More puzzled than the human mind could conceive) “I tripped in the dark, dammit.
  You shouldn’t oughta leave your sister in the middle of the floor in the dark like that.
  It ain’t my fault!”

  Robert: “Yeah, Lulu. Lay off. Say, Shay--this is one of my girlfriends, Lulu…”

  Lulu: “What do you mean--ONE OF your girlfriends?”

  (Shay scrambles to his feet and straightens himself out; all the while staring at the woman on the floor.)

  Shay: “Is she dead, or what?”

  Me: “No, but I wish I was.”

  Robert: “Lulu--all I meant was--I’m not completely divorced yet.”

  Lulu: “You saying your WIFE is one of your girlfriends?”
  Me: “Who’d like a BIG STIFF DRINK?”
  Shay: “I for damn sure would.”
  ______
  Shay and I left Robert and Lulu in the living room arguing while we poured a drink and started a game of chess.

  The yelling went on for quite awhile.

  I don’t know what time it was when the two of them came back into the kitchen and not before turning out the light in the living room.

  Somehow or other, we ended up sitting around the table taking turns playing a really insane game Robert thought up.
  
  

  It was called QUEENS.

  Robert: “Here are the rules: All the pieces on the board are Queens.”

  This truly stupid game went on way too long with one pair of us at a time playing one of the others. I tried explaining to them (but they did not believe me) that whoever starts will be the one who wins--no matter what moves are made!
  
  

  In the middle of the 4th or 5th game, a loud crash was heard in the living room.

  Me: “I think Weird Al has just met your sister, Lulu!”
  __________

  The More the Merrier
  ________

  I call him, ‘Weird Al” because his hair is weird--just like the singer.
  Al is a low-key throwback to the Hippie era of the 60’s. However, Al is only about 21 years old.

  “Hey! Dudes--did you know there’s a dead granny in here? Like, wild, dude.”

  Lulu: “That’s my sister, you asswipe!”

  Me: “Speaking of asswipes--did anybody think to bring some--just in case?”

  Robert: “Hey, Al, how’s it going?”

  Weird Al: “Oh, hey Robert. I thought we were playing some chess this evening?”

  Lulu: “She ain’t crapped her pants yet.”

  Me: “Praise Jesus!”

  ____
  A new game is introduced by Robert the Zombie Killer.

  All the chess pieces are pushed to the center of the board, smushed up close to each other.
  Next, the game begins with strict rules of chess in effect!

  We play, taking turns, and the screwball game turns out to be fun. I think it might have been fun--or, maybe the Napoleon brandy was having an effect.

  Things had settled down a bit--until--we heard a loud voice from the darkened living room.

  “WHERE AM I? WHAT THE F**K IS HAPPENING TO ME?”
  
  

  Robert: “Hey, Terry, your date just arrived!”
  
  Me: “Very funny. And by that, I mean NOT funny at all.”
  
  

  “SOMEBODY GET ME OFF THIS FLOOR!”
  
  

  Lulu: (Grinning at me) “Let me introduce you to Sadie. Come with me.”

  Me: “No, that’s okay. Where’s that bottle of brandy?”

  Robert: (To Lulu) “I’ll help you.”

  Weird Al: Staring at me, (horrified) “That’s YOUR date? Why is she on the floor?”

  Me: “The landlord smashed the couch to pieces a couple of months ago in a fit of pique.”

  Weird Al: “Oh. Okay.”
  
  

  The next thing I know, 5 of us are seated at the kitchen table.
  _________
  
  (In a scene which oddly reminded me of Bride of Frankenstein)

  Sadie: “Hi. I’m Sadie, I’m supposed to be your date this evening...according to Robert.”

  Me: “I’m afraid there has been a BIG misunderstanding about that, Sadie.
  A MONUMENTAL misunderstanding. Robert made some assumptions without discussing any of it with me.”

  Sadie: “What’s a matter, too much of an age difference? I’m 51-years-old.
  How old are you?”

  Me: “I’m 70 and yes! I’m WAY TOO OLD for a young woman such as yourself. There are laws against this sort of thing.”
  
  

  Lulu: “He’s right. Good god, Robert--what were you thinking?”

  Robert: “Hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he was THAT OLD.”

  Sadie: “You don’t LOOK that old.”
  
  

  Me: “Oh trust me. I’m way old. I’m not any fun, either. I’m a real party pooper.”
  
  Sadie: “Yeah well--that happens to me, too. I use DEPENDS.
  What do you use?”
  
  Me: "Oh, Jeeze!"

  Note: (I didn’t think any of this was very funny at the time.)
  ______