Elvis on Black Velvet

I wonder how Elvis on Black Velvet fits in the Fang Sway of trailer living? It was a hot, miserable day, sort of stuck between summer hot and spring time cool weather. A Virgo came by to check out my handiwork, nodding in an appraising way. I had a late lunch with the most bizarre collection of topic to go along with the normal food. I went with a Cancer, Sag, Taurus, another Taurus, and myself. All of the guys had worked, or were currently employed by Magnolia. Topics kept bouncing back to Ice Hockey because one of the guys was originally from Detroit, or someplace like that, way up north, he took it upon him self to answer my apparently inane questions about Ice Hockey (motto: this game has no rules). “Look, they’re big guys from shanties in Canada, and all they know how to do is skate and beat people up….” Late last night, right before a storm rolled through, and I was doing laundry as the final act of cleaning, one of the other denizens suggested we could just take our clothes out to the river and beat them with rocks. I just fed the machine another handful of quarters, instead. The magic of the rain was not lost on me, and I stepped out to my make shift patio, intending to have a cigar and watch the lightening — nature’s special effects — but the first of the big rain drops were coming down with a stinging velocity at a 45 degree angle. So much for nature’s sideshow.