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Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... A GRIMM Fairy Tale.
dedicato. William Houston.
..Noo HAS U KNOW U never believe a word that-s said in a late night Tavern after all and sundry are in their Cups at a time, going on 3 a.m., in Alcoholic or fervent drinkers time, lights low, most floozies gone on home, just a couple of Cougars, dilettante, Lads, in by way of trade, muscle=orientated, Bar owner hovering for his last ducats, ensemble, 2 tweetie gals in Tut-Tu-s, kid-waitress-s hoping for a break...in Hollyweird...or just to get back to their Clothes-horse digs of limited description, The Motel Sunray! 25 bucks a night, don-t look under the mattress! S-where they interned MOB-squealer Louis-da-Weasel from NYC....WHERE WAS I... Oh. Yup. A million Stories abound about the DUTCHMAN-S LOST GOLD MINE in where-ever, Arizona, Nevada, Colorado.Anyhow, all this takes place in a Bar-Roadhouse between Colorado Springs and Cortez in Southern Colorado...SO!!! Old Dude, a BAR TABLE COMMANDER establishes his presence. Old ruffled 10 Gallon Stetson, Wretched Duster over-coat. Rockmount studded-check Cowboy shirt. Looked like it had seen better days. God knows what state his Under-pants were in! Tony Lamas Boots!. Anyhow We all, Bar-Dregs, gathered round. Lights were low. Everybody was wearing a Joint or a Cigarette and after slugging 3 large Makers Mark Whiskys with 2 Budweiser chasers, in a low raspy, saw-dust, 3rd grain sandpaper-voice....he said, ON OATH!!!......I think he was Scottish, maybe....Noo, I fund... the Lost Dutchman-s Goldmine....
c.2020, davedelacroix
took away the bordello.
Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... A GRIMM Fairy Tale.
dedicato. William Houston.
..Noo HAS U KNOW U never believe a word that-s said in a late night Tavern after all and sundry are in their Cups at a time, going on 3 a.m., in Alcoholic or fervent drinkers time, lights low, most floozies gone on home, just a couple of Cougars, dilettante, Lads, in by way of trade, muscle=orientated, Bar owner hovering for his last ducats, ensemble, 2 tweetie gals in Tut-Tu-s, kid-waitress-s hoping for a break...in Hollyweird...or just to get back to their Clothes-horse digs of limited description, The Motel Sunray! 25 bucks a night, don-t look under the mattress! S-where they interned MOB-squealer Louis-da-Weasel from NYC....WHERE WAS I... Oh. Yup. A million Stories abound about the DUTCHMAN-S LOST GOLD MINE in where-ever, Arizona, Nevada, Colorado.Anyhow, all this takes place in a Bar-Roadhouse between Colorado Springs and Cortez in Southern Colorado...SO!!! Old Dude, a BAR TABLE COMMANDER establishes his presence. Old ruffled 10 Gallon Stetson, Wretched Duster over-coat. Rockmount studded-check Cowboy shirt. Looked like it had seen better days. God knows what state his Under-pants were in! Tony Lamas Boots!. Anyhow We all, Bar-Dregs, gathered round. Lights were low. Everybody was wearing a Joint or a Cigarette and after slugging 3 large Makers Mark Whiskys with 2 Budweiser chasers, in a low raspy, saw-dust, 3rd grain sandpaper-voice....he said, ON OATH!!!......I think he was Scottish, maybe....Noo, I fund... the Lost Dutchman-s Goldmine....
c.2020, davedelacroix
took away the bordello.
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