Much ado about Th0rn

January 2nd, 2007

Fighting crime, curing cancer, learning ballet, and mastering the Klingon language. Not too much on the plate, as far as new years resolutions go, me thinks.

Stealthy and coyly minding mine own business, on the eve of the new year, I was prominently seated in a quiet corner of the bar, as any proper chambernaut would do. I did spy with a mighty eye, the makings of a boofet. Then dashing over to see if I may partake in the feast that has been presented, a plate was filled. I sat and happily snacked on the items at random, random being the operative word. Looking down at the remnants of the once mighty feast that had populated my humble plate, a sight was seen that caused your dashing narrator to take a slight pause. For there were only three items left.

Neither now nor then wanting to be a man known for being in possession of a little pink weenie, and big browns balls, the items were quietly disposed of. A lone Goth chick was heard cackling in the distance, and the realization that all had been found out, and the disposal was neither as quick nor as stealthy as your now blushing orator had hoped for.

Besides this moment, the evening went without incident. There was a threat from an ex to make a six hour round trip drive to arrive at The Chamber. No other reason is evident other than some stalking, and ruining the eve of your story teller. A maiden fare offered her services as a rent-a-maiden, should the need arise. A mighty maiden offered her pugilistic abilities, should a proper thrashing need to occur. To both I am eternally grateful to for their offers.

A fierce five hour battle was fought and won in the dwelling of the Sunsetter. Explaining to the maiden that she had through no fault of her own, contracted stubs, and that they needed to be removed. 'Tis a story for another time, I am certain. The Sunsetter did not make good on her offer of a guest appearance on the eve of the New Year. 'Twas a sad moment for certain, as wine, women and song were the order of the night.

Perhaps now, it is time to take leave, for hark, there has been a query by none other than rough kitty herself. Trouble with a capital T, me thinks.