Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #437

Man in the background, left: “See, this is what happens when I take the missus out for a Sunday stroll. She always finds a pack of urchins with the same haircut, and she thinks that by throwing them little tidbits of candy she is somehow improving the world. I need to get back to the office and short-sell some stock.”

Missus, middle: “This is so invigorating. I just love pretending that I care even though I don’t.”

Busty woman in the taffy shop: “I don’t understand why they let those urchins run wild like that. Back when I was their age I had two jobs and grew my own corn.”

Busty Woman’s shorter companion: “It’s the Democrats, I tell ya. Always trying to help people out and being a good neighbor and all that crap. Sets a bad example and now everybody wants something.”

Girl on the right: “I’m trapped in a red state. Please help me.” 

Note 1: This is Exhibit #30 in Bonnywood’s March Madness. Details found here.

And with that, we lower the curtain on this month’s questionable project…

10 replies »

  1. And by the time she’s doled out her sweet nothings to the wee ragamuffins and is ready to be taken back to Delirium Towers everyone will have forgotten about innocent looking Knickerbocker Junior casually strolling away. Till Missus reaches for her change purse… Later, at the Bleak Street Orphanage a dozen street wise urchins gather ’round Knickerbocker J and take their share of the spoils, having done the crucial job of distraction well; Still, we must take a little charity where we can find it. And Missus- the sun will come out tomorrow.
    (Hey, Pollyanna! Yeah, you on the right! Get outta shot.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, my. I sense a tinge of bitterness, here. Hmm. Perhaps I should assume my “Dr. Brian” persona (I trust you have read some of those dusty missives) and offer a diagnosis. “It appears that the patient has never recovered from auditioning for the lead role in the Somerset-on-Puddingwater local production of “Annie”, tossed aside for someone more youthful and actually capable of carrying a tune longer than three nanoseconds. Additionally, the detailed fantasy of thievery supports this analysis.”

      Dr. Brian can be a bit of a wanker, in case such hasn’t been noted. I can arrange for him to be shivved in the shower, should that be your inclination. Just let me know.

      Liked by 1 person

      • That brat kid never stole my role- I refused to entertain a Carrot-top wig, white-face makeup and a handful of freckles the would befit or blight the face of a real smallpox victim. Damn red headed stepchild was a natural for the part, so I graciously declined.
        Don’t worry, Dr Brian, you’re safe. Just as long as you avoid the showers.

        Liked by 1 person

    • Salt water taffy is an extraordinary and delicious thing, resulting in moderate orgasms upon consumption. But I can only speak of this from faded memory, as my remaining teeth shun the sticky chewiness of such these days…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. A very subtle photo op using The Little Moppets (those puppeteers were very clever) to build support for a political candidate. Back then, many people in Atlantic City supported Mr. Silas Walter “Salt Water” Taff for president. Ran on the platform, “Make America Chewy Again” – he had the backing of both the candy companies and the tobacco companies. He was doing fine till the conspiracy theories about him being a marsupial created lots of suspicions that he was pocketing more bribes than the average lizard politician. His campaign never recovered, and his support went down under.

    *** I’ve had a couple of stressful days, and I’m somewhat off the wall, but still hanging in there. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s my understanding, although I may be a bit off the mark, that “Salt Water” Taff was the true inspiration for the later “Candyman” movie franchise. (This rumor actually makes a certain amount of sense if you ponder it through, especially if you consume at least one margarita before the pondering.) Of course, this avenue of explanation is thrown off course if you also consider the fact that the words “Donald Trump”, in a certain long-dead Phoenician dialect translates to “Rancid Candy Purveyor”. Complicating things further is the recent discovery of a crumbling text in a cave on the northern shore of Lake Twistywonk, south of the ancient city of Obscuritoria, which said thusly: “The true mark of the beast is the invention of the Internet”…

      I’m sorry. What was the question, again? 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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