Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen Part 2-7

Yes, I enjoyed sexual intercourse, Ray. Go fetch in the walkie-talkie.

All righty then, Olwen darlin’.

Put yer Levis on first.

All righty then, Olwen darlin’.

Ray forsook the relative safety of their little room at the nice tourist court and went outside. Straight off, Ogma, the fickle friend of the Druidry, liked to blinded Ray. But once Ray’s eyes adjusted he was just able to espy the Crown Vic parked on the lawn, handy. “Where’s the dang trunk.” But Ray’s eyes adjusted some more anon, so Ray soon figured out where the trunk was. But when Ray opened the trunk, he couldn’t see inside. “I caint see the walkie-talkie.” “ Olwen dear, the walkie-talkie seems to have disappeared.” Ray hollered. “ Noper, never mind, there it is.”

Ray was fixing to fetch in the walkie-talkie, back to the relative safety of the little room, when, improperly accoutered for his adventure in nature, Ray stepped bare-footed on some sticker burs (Cenchrus incertus), a common graminoid of parking area lawns. “Dang, ow, dern these dang sticker burs.”

Whut’s the matter, Ray sugar?

The sticker burs have got me darlin’. Toss out the penny loafers.

Olwen hunted around for Ray’s penny loafers.

I can only find one of ‘em, honey bunch.

Well toss that un on out, darlin’.

All righty then.

Olwen went to the door to toss Ray a penny loafer, but just like Ogma had been with Ray, Ogma was fickle with Olwen.

Where are ye sugar, I caint see ye?

I’m right here.

Where?

Right here.

Oh my gosh. There you are.

And there Ray was, bathed in Ogma’s light, shirtless, shoeless, sock less, accoutered only in his Levis, striking the immemorial meditative pose of the Druids, a hand covering one eye and the other eye swelled up to the size of a saucer, one foot up and hooked behind the other big leg. Except for the walkie-talkie, that particular meditative pose would have gone down as one of the three greatest meditative poses ever espied in those parts. But even with the walkie-talkie, it made the top ten.

Ray sweetie pie, ye need to pull yer pants up. Yer butt cracks showin’. And with this helpful advice off her ample bosoms, Olwen White Track tossed Ray his penny loafer.

It took Ray a minute or two to get organized and back into the relative safety of the little room. Plus, Ray required some assistance with sticker bur extraction and some comforting before he calmed down enough to enjoy sexual intercourse. But then, Ray’s role in the plan for cleaning up the place, having been successfully concluded, Olwen White Track got on the walkie-talkie to put the rest of the plan into action.

It is a well-known fact that moon goddesses have a great affinity for the speech of all the birds except those birds that don’t talk. And in this regard, Olwen White Track was no exception to the general facts regarding moon goddesses. Olwen could talk just like any bird she wanted to talk like, any time she had a mind to. That’s why Olwen wanted Ray to fetch in the walkie-talkie. Olwen wanted to talk like a particular bird on the walkie-talkie.

Ray sugar, could ye make me a drink. Bourbon on the rocks. No honey, more bourbon. This could take awhile. Now how does this gizmo work. There we go. Thank ye sugar. Yer so sweet.

This is the Kinglet callin’ the retinue. Report in retinue. This is the Kinglet, callin’ the retinue. Report in retinue. This the Kinglet, callin’ the retinue. Report in retinue. This is....

Is that you, Sleeza. Heh, heh. It is. Where’s Rumpler and Chitlin? Well get em on the walkie-talkie too. What’s that Chitlin? Did ye say, what Kinglet? I need to remind ye Chitlin that there aint but one Kinglet at a nonce, and I’m it, heh-heh.

Is that ye Rumpler? I opine ye have yer underwear on. Heh-heh. That’s good, Rumpler. Ye shall have to model that particular pair fer me some time. Whut am I doin’ here, Sleeza? I’m the Kinglet, so I’m flyin’ around over here in a helicopter, but I caint see nothin’ much so I’m flyin’ back to the White House here in a little while.

Well, I’m just checkin up on ye to see how Ray’s doin’. Has he had sexual intercourse with Olwen yet? Ye don’t know? All ye know is he’s ridin’ around on a bus?

Dern it. Sleeza call me on the phone when I get back to the White House and tell me all this agin’ in case I ferget. Meantime, ye need to put the full implementations of the guvment at work to clean up the Castle of Justice.

How do I know it needs cleanin’ up? I just flew over it and I could smell it from the helicopter. So when ye call me up on the phone in a little while, ye need to remind me that I told ye to startup the full implemendacities of the guvment to clean up the place.

No, I don’t know whut happened to old Upyraholes, but it smelled like he might be dead. Now can ye three of the retinue remember to do all that, or do I need to send Rover over?

Yep, Rumpler. But ye may need to remind me when ye call me on the phone in a couple of hours at the White House that I may need to send Rover, over.

Anything else unprecedented I need to know about?


Ye did Sleeza. Well I bet ye look real ornate in it. Heh, heh. Well I got to go now back to the White House and ye all be sure to call me up and explain all this agin. 10/4. 10/4. 10/4. This is the Kinglet flying, off. This is the Kinglet, flying off. This is the Kinglet, flying off......Chooka-chooka- chooka. Click.

Whoa! Olwen darlin’, that last part sounded just like a helicopter. I dang near ducked fer fear of a helicopter gettin’ me. Ye sure are smart Olwen.

Yepper, I am what I am. Honey, could ye freshen this up and then maybe ye could give me a nice inner thigh massage ere we depart upon my nightly rounds?

All righty then.