Saturday, April 25, 2015


I put on my wighat and my high heel sneakers and sallied forth into the evening. The air with crisp, with a hint of pine needles, and I felt like I could take over the world, or at least a small tropical island with a restless population and a crumbling dictatorship. I would wear a garland of bananas around my neck and rule with a firm but just hand. Perhaps I would be visited by an Arab prince on a diplomatic mission, and he would seduce me with his eyes and his moustache. And I would say, "I want you to know, Omar, that you are a wonderful lover, but this will not change my feelings on the trade pact."

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