Creative Diffrances

Over the past sevral days, people have been writing in and asking of Daisies where abouts? Here is one such missive:

WHRE IS DAISEY TEGH LAMB!>?

You can see what I mean. Anyway, I've received thousands of such letters. I will tell you the truth, I have beeen trying to keep this swept under the carpet. I have not wanted to adress the issue. I did'nt want to air my dirty laundry (well really it's Daisy's dirty laundry)_ in pubic.

But now I'm going to have to hang them out to dry. So, here goes.

No, Daisy

Oh wait, I forgot to say:

I, Memes, says give iTunes during this special Holiday, Kwazna, WinterSolstice, Chanuka, Descent of the Soda Bevrage, Lotus Tree Day, Ramadan, Seek the Sikh Cheek to Cheek Festival, Shiva's Morn, etc. Season of giving.

Anyway, as I was saying, Daisy is not UNPERSONED or anything like that. She has not been arrested by the Bushitler regime, she is not lying dead in an alleyway behind the CIA building. She is ok. Well, she's ok by her lowly standerds anyway. I can't say that I'm am very happy with Daisy these days.

Sufice, it to say, that we are having what I may strictly term, Creative Differneces.

It all started when Daisy came by NYC to see me when she was on the lamb from Echelon and trying to find Stileto in Los Alamos. She and I went out for some drinks one evening. I'm not going to go in to the details but let's just say , I am a man and Daisy is a woman and one thing came to a place where it began to lead one thing to another, and the next thing I new , I found my hand cupped on her sweet derrierois (fr.) and then, she said she had to "powder her nose" and I'm thinking, "I'm hip. I lived in the Apple during the 80's. I've seen Less Than Zero. I know about "powdering one's nose." I'm on my way to home plate.

But, then when she came out of the rest room, she said she had seen "an old freind" and that she was going to "be getting a ride home with him tonight."

Now, I wasn't born yesarday. I know that Daisy is from the grater Chicago area and that this was her frist trip to the big city, so ther's no way she know s this freak she's calling an "old freind." So, really he's probably some guy with some cocaine, and he's playing on the naieve girl's-first-time -to-the-big_city thing. He thinks he can just have his way with her because she's a dumb girl from a small town.

So, I explain this all to her in no uncertain terms. And what does she do? She laughs in my face. And then she leaves with the guy.

Ladies and Gentleman, I am afraid to say it, but really, I'm going to have to come out and be blunt:

Daisy is a CokeWhore!!!

There I said it. She's just one of those girls. Just one of the apples along the road. Just a cow who gives the milk a way for free. Oh well, she is what she makes of her slef. Nothing more. I can't do anything to save her.

I wash my hands of her.