From: annie@canetoad.UUCP (Picasso-puss)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Casa canetoad, New Year's Eve
Distribution: world
Date: 6 Jan 93 18:25:03 EDT
Organization: The Satellite of Love

Most of the evening we had 5 guests. Then, just before midnight,
we had 30, including The Tall People, (who were, on average, 6"
taller than anyone else), poet Robert Frost and composer J. S. Bach.
Mr. X and SO Colette were in attendance as well. Richh and 
Dominus made excuses. Mr. X and Colette arrived early, so as to
be at casa canetoad before dark. Ah, New York. And Grendel's and
my stories of death and mayhem only made the whites of Colette's
eyes show all the way 'round her irises, instead of only under
them. Yes, it might have become a game, were we feeling cruel (we
were not; I felt bad, actually). Everything seemed to horrify her:

	our conversation
	the 1/4 cup of rum in the chocolate mousse
	sending one guest back to Long Island at 3:00 am
	our body weight & ratio of fat to muscle

We could do nothing right. :-)

Mr. X brought glowing things. Colette illustrated the BEAUTIFUL 
card which adorned the package. Larne suggested she sell the 
illustration for millions of quatloos at ConFrancisco. We all 
concurred. Really, you had to *see* this thing. Gorgeous. We 
encircled our necks with the glowing things. Grendel, alert as
always to the possibilities of violence, commented that the circles
of light made us all look as though our heads were detachable.

"Screw 'em RIGHT off!"

Grendel's sister added, "For all we know, we may just be giant PEZ
dispensers. Crack my neck open and you get a candy."

I sipped on my Midori melon ball and said nothing.

Robert Frost passed out copies of his poetry. As hostess, I was
not consulted and so said nothing.

Midnight came and went, with much dancing and merrymaking and stinky
exploding confetti things. My fiance and I toasted, as it was an
anniversary of sorts for us: our first kiss happened on New Year's
1990-91. Shucks. Who'd a-thunk we'd be gettin' married?

Mr. Frost and Grendel had a slight disagreement, culminating in a
wrestling match. Grendel's sister was heard to yell, "I bid on the
short, srappy one!" Grendel was, naturally, the undisputed winner--
being very careful not to seriously injure anything save Mr. Frost's
ego.

A young J. S. Bach approached me with a mystery cassette tape.

"Here. Pop this in, would you?"

"What is it?"

"Er, actually--don't tell anyone--but...it's *ME*."

I could only respond, "No. I haven't heard this. I refuse to
subject my guests to a complete unknown. You may be Bach, and
it may be brilliant--or it may be crap. I don't care. Play your
music at *your* party. Behave yourself at *mine*."

Only The Tall People smoked. Like Smoke Stacks. Like Chimneys. Like
Eastern Europeans, which they were.

The morning after found the Toadies, 2 New York friend's of canetoad's,
my fiance, and Mr. X and Colette at the Bendix Diner. The there-is-no-
cabal-ites ordered buckwheat pancakes, plain, no butter, no syrup,
no side dish, and LOTS of coffee. No wonder they are so thin!

I confess that I took a perverse pleasure in ordering steak, eggs and
home fries. My fiance did me proud with onion rings, a grilled cheese
sandwich and an egg cream. Larne ordered an "Aztec Omelette," complete
with a sacrificial knife, religious head gear and grooves in the serving 
alter to drain off the blood. The cook interviewed us all, but as no one
would admit to being a virgin, he had to make do with unfertilized eggs.

On the way home from the diner, we found 10,000 helium balloons chained 
together, abandoned in a tree. We took them home, where they nestled
against our hall ceiling, covering it end to end. (On Clean-up Day Larne
got to pop every single one of them. "Amazingly theraputic.")

Finally, sadly, all of our wonderful guests bid us adieu................
and we all jumped into our dress clothes and hopped a train to an all-day 
wedding/reception in Queens.

Annie
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...uunet!canetoad!annie                          canetoad!annie@uunet.uu.net

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre