When Brenda went in the field my mother offered to help me
watch the boys in Delray Beach. My father had just died.
We ended up moving back there, getting high-paying, high-tech jobs,
with IBM and Mitel, as an information developer and a technical instructor.
After I got on permanent with IBM, we went on a family vacation to Ochopee,
Florida. Not many people did that. Visited the Everglades. Down on the edge of
Big Cypress Swamp. We were like Meryl Streep and Chris Cooper at Fakahatchee
Strand in Adaptation, wading in the water with the snakes and alligators, looking for
ghost orchids. We stayed in the Golden Lion Motor Inn. We went to a pork cook-out at
the Ranger Station. Some kind of motorcycle-crazies towing a pig-cooker behind
a pickup truck. Did they cook javelina? Were they worried about brucellosis?
Chief killed a peccary with an atlatl and a fire-hardened spear at 8WA15.
Dr. Phelps called it a pessary. I imagined a woman with a wild boar
in her twat. Whee-haw--let me out, Elizabeth!

I saw a bee-tree. From the boardwalk. Bees love honey.
One of my aliases was Albino Grizzly. I asked IBM to let me write
correspondence novels for my job. They told me to stop.
I said PC didn't stand for personal computer, it stood for pubococcygeus,
the muscle women contract when they squeeze their pussies shut.
I called the computer they made Big Red, Vagina Dentata, the Snapping Pussy
of Doom. I said the small, desktop computer was going to devour us,
from here to Tura Lura Lipschitz. Did you hear the one about the woman
who went drift-fishing with 27 guys? All she got was a red snapper.