Pics of a Pyx?
It’s a host for a Host. It’s called, I think, a pyx. She whipped it out to show me, and all I could say was it made delightful condom carrier, the right size, shape and so forth. That one had a little Celtic cross on it.
Wrong expression, although it did invokes gales of giggles. My own. I tried to explain the comment later, and the picture just looked like a diaphragm case.
Then there was that Virgo girl – a lawyer. At the curbside check in El Paso, “Kramer?”
It’s hard to recognize me with clothes on.
She bought me a cup of coffee, and a sleazy, cheap tabloid, “I just need some mindless entertainment.”
I brightened up.
“Hey, I can do that!”
So I commented about the lifestyles of the rich and famous, as portrayed in the tabloid, all the way back to Austin.
Finally, I unlimbered in Austin, and stretched out towards Bookpeople to see the future (Scorpio) governor of Texas: Kinky Friedman. He did a talk, he joked, he read some passages, he pointed out that his latest book was ghost-written by Mary Higgins Clark. I caught him outside with a cigar in his mouth. Half a cigar. He’s taken to cutting the cigars in half, cutting back on smoking. I thought it was great, caught him in front of the no smoking sign.
