On Carpets, Matches and Drapes posted 5/14/2011 11:05:26 PM | 0 kudos what's this?     report abuse

xquseme

The other day I was on my way home from an extended trip, and I found myself passing through
Calaveras county. Now, if you're a guy like me, you really want to hoof it through this county.
Either some red headed kid named Opie will be trying to touch a hot match to your hindquarters
in an attempt to judge your leaping prowess, or one of his rivals will be force feeding you lead
shot so that said prowess is impeded. Needless to say, I was hopping!

Presently, after managing to elude all the rural rugrats, I had the opportunity to slow
down and catch my breath. The image of those red matches remained with me, however,
and my froggy mind started making associations...

Lately, while enjoying sloppy frog sex, all I see are Brazilian style trims. And I don't
mean a South American cut! Those of us in an amphibian frame of mind go hairless
by necessity, not by choice, so the question of carpet matching drapes is a non-issue.
Ah, but in my former days...!!

As I recall, the vast majority of females sported a brunette style of do. Oh, sure,
occasionally you run across a lovely blonde thatch, but for the most part what you encounter is
dark in color. And, of course, the rarest of all, the crimson (or ginger) bush!
Now, I really had no craving or curiosity per se to experience the, er, "burning bush," as it were,
but sooner or later statistics always catch up with you. And BOY, did they ever!

First there was the Executive Mom. Although the telltale freckles and crimson eyebrows
proclaimed "genuine," the dual roles of Office Manager and Divorced Mom made dating
(and/or mating) unrealistic. Too bad, too!

Then there was the aspiring artist, whose red flag of courage was overly fluorescent to be
true-to-life. Further experience with this one told the tale. Carpet vs. drapes? No match!
Back to the drawing board.

Then there was the Ex, who was bored with the salt-and-pepper look, and decided that ginger
was for her. Since I knew the truth of the matter, though, I wasn't impressed. Still
good company, though...

But then...there was the little grandmotherly religious type, who appeared too old for carpet shenanigans.
Drapes? Check. Carpet? Check! (That bad boy GLOWED in the dark!!) Libido? Once again,
a match—in SPADES! And then there were the freckles. Dozens of freckles. SCORES of
freckles. HUNDREDS of solitary freckles, which united to form freckle islands. Freckle islands which
blended into freckle CONTINENTS. Hell, freckle GALAXIES!! If you've ever looked up from your, er, "meal"
to view the world through an orange thatch with surrounding auburn polka dots, well, you get the idea!

All that was a lifetime ago, it seems. This hopping from lily pad to log to water and back is getting old.
That frog princess I've been waiting for is LOONNNG overdue! Right now, carpets and drapes are
of no concern, just so I can wring the pond water out of my belongings! What's that they say? You
gotta kiss a thousand frogs before you find your prince?? Well, the line starts HERE. I can worry about
hair color later. Ribbitt!!!!

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