Exhausted and Glazed with Butterscotch Pudding
got a little gift of his own- (only purple)
- drifting unguided and unmanned
- a bit flummoxed
- with each passing hour
Tune in next time part 627 Click Here for Earlier Installments
Exhausted, and glazed with butterscotch pudding, I stared at Hildegard as she did her best Bob Barker impression in the purple honeymoon suite. “Here’s your chance to win a brand! new! car!” We’d been at this for hours. First she’d spoon up the pudding, then we’d play a price-guessing game, then we’d fornicate — before starting the whole process over again. Early on, the bellhop delivered our wedding gifts on a luggage cart, and got a little gift of his own when Hildegard answered the door naked. She’d let him choose one of the purple-wrapped boxes of pudding as his tip. All the presents were pudding, and all were wrapped in purple, to match the decor of the entire hotel. It was like King Midas had strolled through, running his hands over everything and turning it to gold. (Only purple). I felt like my metaphors weren’t working very well, like my mind was drifting unguided and unmanned in an amethyst sea. All the purple and all the butterscotch had me a bit flummoxed, and my flummoxation grew with each passing hour and each passing Showcase Showdown.
bonus points for using them in order