I’ve been away from this house, lately, wandering the dark streets of the night, aimless among the neon pools on the wet asphalt where lost souls go to share their despair. I’ve been pondering the sinister beauty and gleeful joy of decadence and depravity. They say you can get lost on your own thoughts. I almost did.
But it is now time to come back home. What with the amazing Pam Grier Week coming up under the sage auspices of blogmeister Darius Whiteplume? Time to rev up the brain engines, grab the discs from the shelf and force the DVD player into some serious workout. Our chocolate-coloured queen of the 70s awaits our visit in the candy coloured haze of the past.
Besides, if I didn’t get home soon, it was possible I wouldn’t be allowed in. Our sexy neighbour the Sexy Witch was evicted from Blogger on charges of improper conduct. If so sweet abode of beauty and grace could be so branded, what of my humble lair of sin and depravity? I fear the mobs carrying torches.
Truth is, god is once again prowling the dark alleys of the night, harbouring great fear and bigger resentment. He sees sin where is only beauty, and he knows no beauty where there’s no pain.
He pretends to offer solace to those that are lost…
…but as always has been his way, when you offer him one cheek…
…he demands the other as well.
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