Author Archives: treetrunkrick

The crystal ball rolls on…

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A little fuzzy right now, a little misty, foggy, but the images inside the crystal ball show the IRS, along with SWAT teams in riot gear, raiding, then accidentally destroying the offices and equipment of Rolling Stone magazine, its publishers, writers and subcontractors over the possibility that one or more persons (remember, a corporation is a person) has allegedly evaded tax liabilities illegally, including late tax payments, falsified/missing receipts, and/or miscategorized tax deductions. Racketeering charges based on algorithms that will show subliminal collusion to cheat the government of tax revenues will be placed on all involved, requiring the alleged perpetrators to defend themselves in secret tax court cases that will never see the light of day because combined tax evasion and racketeering charges are now considered an act of terrorism that the government does not want promoted in the free press.

The government will be avenged.

Praise be the power of subbacultcha. Coochie coochie coo, Charro, baby.

When is a street a canal?

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After a seven-hour return trip driving from the Big Easy to Rocket City, I relax for a few minutes before going to bed.

So many people to thank, I hope I remember most of them: Eric, Kevin, Kenneth, Greg, Chris and extraordinary room-cleaning staff at the Astor Crowne Plaza; Seth and friends/coworkers at Chesterfield’s; Kam and the volunteers who made Dance Mardi Gras a success; the enthusiastic workers at PJ’s; state troopers; street beggars; traffic light engineers; skyscraper window washers; polite tractor-trailer operators…

A weekend of adrenaline/endorphin rushes watching/competing/dancing.

…like a rare, old (“aged”) and delicious wine — one sip of a memory at a time.

…like the miracle of a newborn child — every move analysed for signs of progress.

If I had known what I was going to face on the dance floor, I might/shoulda/coulda practiced more, if not more seriously.

I definitely should have danced with more partners during social dance times.

The past has passed, the awards given.

Proam-Male-Open-Newcomer-Swing-2nd-place-2013

 

Let the dreams carry me into the light of Monday morning…dreams of flirting in two-minute stretches with beautiful dancers…

IMG_2070 IMG_2074 IMG_2080 IMG_2082 IMG_2087 IMG_2089 IMG_2092 IMG_2101

Abi was the female pro dancer of the event.

…and I need another memory card for my camera phone for the next one of these great events.

 

Getting up by backing down

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R&B Classics on the tellie.

Dagnabbit rabbit (not rabid, or rapid), I am in the mood to dance (echo: “dance, dance, dance…”).

However, I’m out of sequence with the marital unit (i.e., me wife), who agreed to retire early Thursday night because I had driven seven hours from Huntspatch to Nawlins and used that as an excuse to retire early from a night of dancing so tonight she has a sore knee and I must agree to retire early to the hotel room even though I’m in the mood to PAR-TAY on the dance floor in preparation for the Pro-Am competition tomorrow at noon, thanks to the secret of staying smooth on either nicotine, alcohol or…?

This, my dear young readers, is my secret and my curse — lowering inhibitions that make no sense through the use of external stimuli.

Dagnabbit.

No, take that back, God’s Frozen Chosen Presbyterian readers.

Damn! I want to dance and I want to dance now.

Follow the Philips head patterned tap (e.g., “screw it.”).

Let’s give it over to LaBelle in Lady Marmalade: “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”

G’nite!