MIDGE MISSIVE ON LIFE, LOVE AND LEFT EYE

My Lovely Liberty Belle, Sleigh Belle, Belle Watling, Belle Du Jour, Belle Epoch,

First, may I say greetings? It is with great interest, and a HUGE dry Martini that I read your missive. I am quite impressed with you finally tracking me down here in Ecuador, but more on that later.

Since you and I finally managed to work our way through the quagmire that our cloudy brained Pearl had managed to get herself into, and go our separate ways to regroup, I feel the need to assure you that our experiences were indeed NOT a dream. They were more like a real life nightmare. When I suggested Electro shock therapy for you after all we went through, it was a lighthearted joke. Unless of course, you have been enjoying your usual julep drip, and are still trying to put all that occurred out of your head.

We did find Baby Matthew, only to discover that he was actually an ice dancing dwarf named Sid, hired by the sister in law of Mr. Herb B. Monett, one Theodora Bennett-Smyth. It seems that Mrs. Cesaria Drusilla Monett (Herb's wife and Theodora's sister), had given the real baby Matthew a sleeping potion and made him comfortable under her house, while she hatched her evil plan to ensnare and destroy our Pearl Brilliance. (As if Dunbar hadn't done an adequate enough job all along on her own.) It seems that our sweet and overbearingly nosy Pearl had stumbled upon Cesaria's evil, diabolical plan. I know that Pearl can explain this far better than I. Martini's, humidity and the altitude here in Ecuador have made my thought processes sluggish and unresponsive.

I did promise to fill you in on my whereabouts and activities of the past couple of years. After destroying Cesaria Monett's plan, clearing Pearl's name and placing her safely in the bosom of her family (well, with her crazy, gin addled, hirsute armed Aunt) I headed back to my family compound in the Napa Valley. As you know, due to the ultra dramatic behavior that we all have exhibited over the years, I asked, no, begged for a well-deserved sabbatical. I realized that life in my little artists colony was too constricting after all of the country crossing we've done over the years, springing one another out of countless jams, and performing with our Journey cover band. So I packed my small, well lit make-up case, and jetted off to the City of Lights. No, not Kansas City, MO, but Paris, France. I thought a few months of wine swilling and unshaven legs and armpits would renew my sense of well being. I also was hoping on anonymity and casual and frequent sex with Pakistani immigrants. Instead what I found was myself embroiled in another adventure without the help of my half witted, er, I mean, my loving sisters.

Quite simply, I fell in love. His name was Buddy Holly-Dali, an illegitimate offspring of that great impressionist painter, Salvador Dali. Buddy's mother was a great fan of that lead singer of the Crickets, and also loved the rhyme of the names together. Buddy also had a huge, unrequited love for a singer, one Lisa (Left Eye) Lopez, from the R&B uber- group, TLC. How many times had he forced me to perform the part of Chili to the single "Waterfalls," while his stroke addled mother grunted out the part sung by T-Boz? But that is neither here nor there.

It seems that he and Left Eye had met one rainy night on the Eiffel Tower. Buddy had gone there to try and clear his constantly clogged right sinus cavity. They had one passionate encounter beneath one of the bridges along the Seine. It turns out after his Ecstasy and NyQuil wore off, she was really just an East Indian drag queen prostitute who had a missing left eye. It was easier, and cheaper for her to keep a condom where her eye used to be. She had lost her eye in a bitch fight with another drag queen ho called Indiana Carmen Jones. This was one mean bitch, who was famous for her long, synthetic fake nails, and a penchant for scratching faces. He still saw this as some sort of sign that he and Left Eye were meant to be together. When he realized that I had a fortune at my disposal, (it pays to marry rich, and often) he slipped a roofie into my morning cola and Amaretto, and spirited me off to Ecuador to follow her while she did her good works. As you can well imagine, I was not well for this little escapade when I came to in the back of a Jeep Grand Cherokee wrapped in mosquito netting and being fingered by a toothless shaman who preferred to be called Lloyd. Not only was I now in the dangerous jungles of Central America, with the dirty finger of a shaman in my Pretty, but that bitch Left Eye was in Nicaragua, not Ecuador!!

Needless to say my dear alum's, I needed to beat a hasty retreat, douche, and catch the first supply plane out of that God forsaken place. I needed a plan and fast!! Since I have practiced my Keegle exercises since the sixth grade, knowing that one day a tight Fancy would serve me well, it was easy to snap Lloyd's unwashed digit and roll off the back of the jeep while he writhed in pain. I quickly cut my way out of the netting, utilizing the sharp edge of our class ring, and slithered into the jungle underbrush. I lay very still, wondering if they would return to look for me, but apparently Lloyd did not want to draw attention to the reasons for his now crushed index finger, so my suitor Buddy never even glanced back in my direction. I quickly remembered our MPP training in "Posture and Jungle Warfare", and set up a spike camp in the heart of the jungle. Much to my pleasure, it was still very easy to carry wood on my head and walk heel to toe while crossing snake infested rivers. I covered my self in mud and palm fronds to hide myself, and fell into a deep slumber. I awoke to amazingly soft skin, and a gun barrel shoved quite close to my personal Southern Hemisphere. What was it with these wacky Nicaraguans and their fondness for my Whisper?

I had been discovered by a band of Lesbian Nicaraguan rebels, who seemed to have ideas about revolution that involved my Kitten. I quickly told them of my violation at the hands, or actually, the finger of Lloyd, and they seemed calmed, but not sated. Now Liberty Belle, I do not want you to be angry, but in order to secure my release, I showed them the picture that I carry of you and Pearl Diver. I promised that they could literally drop in on you and your Dyke commune for a little R&R, and I was set free. Sorry Pearl Drops, but they have no fondness for fuzzy armed women. I realize Liberty, that you are not a lesbian, but a desperate situation called for desperate measures. So when a large group of unwashed Mary Kay consultants (don't ask) arrive on your doorstep, DO NOT ANSWER!

So, that my lovelies, is my story up to now. Here I sit on my coffee plantation in Ecuador, with my darling Lloyd by my side. He turned out to really not be so bad after a splint, bar of Lava soap, and a manicure. I loved it so much here; that I thought I would stay for a while, wear loose cotton dresses, and allow my sexy shaman to attend to my Princess like it deserves. As for Buddy, the last I heard, he was seen building a shrine in Nicaragua to Miss Lopez, and getting high on bat guano.

Please let me know how you are both doing. I shall return to the states soon for the annual Friends of the Alumni BBQ & Bingo Tournament, and the Sadie Hawkins Afternoon Delight Jamboree.

All of my love,

Midge Celestine Peck