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What You are About to Read is the Absolute Truth

Tasha Tells All

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What You are About to Read is the Absolute Truth

April 19th, 2006 · 1 Comment

Faithful readers, I have returned from my writing hiatus a changed woman. I have seen the grand fortunes that life has to offer as well as the depths of despair and anguish.  I’m not going to lie, I almost cried.  Its been a rocky road but I am better for it.   

My adventures began on a day, not unlike today, when the sun was shining and a red-breasted robin whistled its tune.  I awoke with a song in my heart and a smile on my face.  My joy, however, was not to last the morning.  Waiting for me was a fate worse than death.  It seems that a worldwide syndicate of evil corporations, being out to get me, had decided that I was to attend tri-weekly meetings. 

 

The meetings are a kind of slow and painful torture. Theyre designed to bore you first to tears and ultimately to DEATH.  Its a painful process. The lucky ones die young. Those who survive are left mindless, empty shells of the people they once were.  Fortunately, the evil corporations made one fatal miscalculation. They did not take into account the power of imagination.  I may have to attend those tri-weekly meetings but I do not have to pay attention. My powerful imagination takes me to far off places. In those flights of fancy I sometimes come up with my best material and I use it all day. Its my little way of stickin it to the man.  I wont be torn asunder by their evil plan. I wont be broken and you can tell em I said so. (Please dont. I dont want to get into trouble.)

 

After thwarting the evil corporations plan to turn me into a mindless drone, I decided it was time to visit the ole bank.  I had a few checks to deposit, if you know what I mean.  Unfortunately, my car had been hobbled, not unlike a horse, and I wasnt going anywhere with that flat tire.  I tell ya, these corporation goons really play hardball but I wasnt going to let that get me down.  No, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and called the one person who knows more about fighting the man than me. Unfortunately, Dad wasnt very helpful so I was on my own.  So I did what any red-blooded American woman would do in those most dire circumstances.  I parked that hunk of German metal and found alternate transportation. There was a shoe sale at Macys and I wasnt going to miss it. 

 

My faithful friends and most trusted companions came to the rescue. They knows how hard it is for a girl to find fabulous shoes at record low prices.  Off to Macys we sped with not a minute to spare.  Im not going to spare any details here fellas. If there are small children in the room or if you are prone to sudden emotional outbursts I recommend skipping this section. Shoe sales are not pretty.

 

Walking on to the sales floor, Caryn, Fatty and I, saw what can only be described as utter devastation there in the shoe department. It was almost more than I could bear.  There were women everywhere and shoes were strewn about, as if by some unseen force.  Ill never forget the cold empty stares of those bargain shoppers.  It was utter madness.  I found a fabulous pair of shoes at a record low price and fought my way to the register.  The women, seeing my fabulous shoes, started to attack like ravenous wolves.  I had to give em Fatty.  Even on arrival at the register I was not safe. They couldnt find the mate to my shoe in the back.  I almost cried.  I sacrificed Fatty for nothing…but wait. Here they are.  Both shoes reunited at last.  Caryn was not so lucky.  She would have to brave another shoe sale to find her fabulous shoes at record low prices.  We quickly gathered all the information we could about where the fabulous shoes would be and made our way back to our conveyance.  We would stop at nothing to have those shoes.  Fatty would have wanted it that way. 

 

Oh, that we could have made it to those shoes.  Oh, that Fatty could have been vindicated.  Alas, how could we have known that the very man who helped reunite my precious shoes was a tool of the international syndicate of evil corporations?  He seemed so good.  That very man, instead of sending us to a land of fabulous shoes, sent us into a swirling tempest of fear and regret.  It was a dreadful experience. All I can say is that I’m lucky to have made it out alive and unharmed, at least physically.  I saw things and did things, most of which are socially unacceptable, which years of therapy could never bring me to admit.  I’m not proud. 

 

I’ll never speak of these things again.  

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