3.24.2002
Psuedonym?
Well, today on YesAnd.com, the very alluring Shaun Landry of Oui Be Negros, an American improv group, mentioned that she loves me, even if I am using a psuedonym.
Coincidently, the last time I used a psuedonym was in 1936 when I was running a hotel in Belize. A rugged pudding of a man wandered up to the bell desk and asked for a room using the name "Marion Morrison."
"Is that your wife?" I inquired politely.
Well, a dark cloud passed over the man's face and he said "No, that is my name."
He was despondent, so I offered to send up out hotel's massuese to cheer him up. Of course, I was the hotel masseuse and had some ideas about how I could best cheer him up.
Young Marion was in a deep sulk when I arrived at his room. After a vigorous rub down and some heavy petting, he confessed that he was trying to start an acting career, but that no producer would hire a man named Marion.
I suggested he pick something a little more macho.
"Like what?" he asked, hopelessly.
"I don't know, Marion! A name like John, Wayne or... well, whatever!"
"John Wayne" he murmered, his eyes lighting up.
I was a little distressed that he picked two first names to be his full name, but I can't argue with success. He was so grateful that every year until his death we would get together once a year and he would break me then ride me like a wild mare.
Neigh, Marion. Neigh.
Now, let's all have a pint of something fierce!
Well, today on YesAnd.com, the very alluring Shaun Landry of Oui Be Negros, an American improv group, mentioned that she loves me, even if I am using a psuedonym.
Coincidently, the last time I used a psuedonym was in 1936 when I was running a hotel in Belize. A rugged pudding of a man wandered up to the bell desk and asked for a room using the name "Marion Morrison."
"Is that your wife?" I inquired politely.
Well, a dark cloud passed over the man's face and he said "No, that is my name."
He was despondent, so I offered to send up out hotel's massuese to cheer him up. Of course, I was the hotel masseuse and had some ideas about how I could best cheer him up.
Young Marion was in a deep sulk when I arrived at his room. After a vigorous rub down and some heavy petting, he confessed that he was trying to start an acting career, but that no producer would hire a man named Marion.
I suggested he pick something a little more macho.
"Like what?" he asked, hopelessly.
"I don't know, Marion! A name like John, Wayne or... well, whatever!"
"John Wayne" he murmered, his eyes lighting up.
I was a little distressed that he picked two first names to be his full name, but I can't argue with success. He was so grateful that every year until his death we would get together once a year and he would break me then ride me like a wild mare.
Neigh, Marion. Neigh.
Now, let's all have a pint of something fierce!
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