He keeps asking for a deck of Tarot Cards and a Ouji Board. This aught to be good?
Warty, NCM, today informed me that this was the auspicious minute to post this particular chapter. He informed me that he had been studying occult charts and some book by Alistair Crowley, and that I must "stop dawdling" I think was how he expressed it, although it nevertheless takes some time to format, edit and post his words after he's gotten to the keyboard just before me. I hope this piece is free of glaring errors for it's difficult to take the abusive diatribes that follow in the tracks of my journalistic errors. Okay, here he is. NCM. And a side note, he insisted that I post his picture along with each chapter. More work.
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As my talents developed I discovered I had others, talents uncommon to most, though I notice some TV channels advertise psychic services. I guard my suspicions when listening to such claims - - the hype smacks of blatant con-artistry. On the other hand, my talents are completely veracious and those exposed to them go away more than amazed. I actually heard as much, comments like, "Good grief! Can you believe what that warthog just said?"
Two months or more had passed when I sensed a change in the Princess' temperament, a subtle uneasy mood that signaled some change in the wind. (Not mine). She went about her Princessly duties with the same degree of grace, yet seemed perhaps somewhat preoccupied. My guess was that she wished the other guy would do better about having a home-cooked meal on the table when she returned after a trying day at work. I hate to appear petty or gossip, but he takes to napping around five in the afternoon, banging away at the keypad in front of the monitor instead of doing chores after he's done doing 'whatever' he does all day in the next room. Pretty unappreciative, if you ask me.
Then I discovered these unexplained visions wherein the Princess appeared while I was meditating. (That other guy, gaining a little insight into a warthog's true nature, usually accuses me of laziness, a narrow-minded shallow accusation if you ask me.) Well, back to the story. In these visions, I became almost clairvoyant aware of topics occupying the Princess' busy mind. For one, she seemed consumed with images of me in what were for her exciting wardrobes, costumes befitting my lofty position at the retreat. Try as she may, she couldn't keep those thoughts from my mind, nor could she conceal the visions of me she carried close to her heart. Quite naturally I was touched, pleased that she understood my needs for appropriate wardrobes. In private, she discussed this with that other guy, but he could only laugh and hold his sides as she described the costumes. Was it better I went about in nothing but handsome fur? She, understanding all, planned to create a flamenco dance costume, an ice skating outfit and a French Apache dancer's get-up - - clothing to match my developing talents. Even though they wouldn't talk about this in my presence, I knew every thought going through her mind. I saw her gazing upon me with admiration as I stomped out a Bulerias, black dance-boots drumming the floor, short open-front jacket and wide Gypsy belt at my waist, silver earring sparkling in the spotlights. She imagined me in a red and white striped long-sleeved shirt and snug black pants, bandana about my neck as I swung her (in a split-to-the-hip skirt) across a smoke-filled room to the sounds of a French cafe band.
Then, un tel choquer! I saw a vision in terrible clarity, a vision of the Princess holding a bear in her arms! My mind was reeling! What could this disturbing apparition possibly mean?
Forgive me. I can't continue at this point without some meaningful rest and more than those miniscule 'snacks' that other guy usually offers. (If the Princess were here she would see that I had a most resplendent feast to bolster my usual strength to go on with the next chapter - - "The Night The Bear Arrived".) But I'm sorry; I really must rest at once.
(Oh, see! I am so distressed! Please leave your customary praise for my pre-meal perusal - - but thrash that other guy if you so much as find one single error!)