Party Hardy in West Virginia
I mean to say "Party hearty in Hardy County West Virginia." Half of the Finance Guys and his husband and the girl upstairs decided to have a Cinco de Mayo and Schlüggënhäüsën party, or something like that, at their country estate in the West Virginia homolands in Hardy County. An incredible number of gay men (and lesbians) with gun racks live in the neighborhood. The woods are full of them! And they all like to decorate. The headquarters of the Gay American Yuppie Supremacists (GAYS) Movement is located exactly 3.4 miles from this spot (check your odometer, do not use your GPS) on SR 259. This is an exceedingly scary neighborhood, especially for straight-talking FBI agents.
Here's an example of a well-appointed post-information economy home. It has Internet service, but no cell phone service! You can tell it's a gay household because of all the subtle earth-hued colors. These colors are no longer confined to the large lesbian community in Takoma Park, Maryland. Gay decorators have magnified this trend, and it is especially evident in the hollows of West Virginia occupied by post-urban weekend dandies. In fact, the Gay Supremacists are everywhere. Their homes blend in so well with the countryside flora, that it's difficult to tell what is a gay home, and what is a bear den. Sometimes, they are one and the same.
All gay households have a dog (or a cat, or neither). This little dog is a schnaudle, not a poozer. He's a fierce little chappie. The Rhodesian Ridgeback wanted to be friendly with Mr. Schnaudle, but the affair ended quickly and badly. Mr. S has a territorial Napoleonic complex. Mr. Ridgeback, being a perfect guest, retreated. This is the first time that I've seen a Rhodesian Ridgeback. The dog, Ariel, is beautiful and friendly with a long sloppy tongue. The scrappy chappie is Winston. Winston likes to be cuddled, petted, and cooed over when he isn't protecting his patio from roving Ridgebacks.
Marie Claire, Carlos, and Joe know how to throw a party. It was complete with taquitos and piñatas, befitting a Cinco de Mayo theme. I never quite figured out what the Schnuggen Huggen was all about, but I'm retired, so I don't need to think anymore.
These are the three main minds behind the GAYS Movement. They cleverly disguise their social agenda as a "Cinco de Mayo/Schnuggen Nuggen Party," but it's more than that. Look at the glee in their faces, the earnestness in their foreheads, and the intelligence writ upon their brows. This is fierce competition in the marketplace of ideas, indeed. From left to right, Marie Claire, Joey, and Carlos.
So what did I learn from this social experiment in West Virginia? I learned how to stuff a piñata. I have dexterity that I never even knew about. It is a truism, that every day of retirement is a learning experience, full of opportunity for those willing to grasp it. Did you know that you stuff a bull piñata through his hind end? This is SO gay! This simple act affirmed my identity politics (every act is political) while I accomplished a social good. Gay parties really do enrich the cultural fabric of rural West Virginia. I don't think this is a matter to be taken lightly, either. Hardy County would be culturally, economically, and politically impoverished in some small, but not insignificant way, had I not taken the longer road, and driven in a "green" hybrid car along the back roads to this ultimately welcoming (after all, I did get lost a couple of times getting there) social enclave of other (so-called) dissolute people (not that there's anything wrong with that) like myself (hey, I hang out with people like me!) and stuck my finger up the rear of a bull piñata purchased at Target. The arrow has come full circle!
So hats off to you three, Marie Claire, Joe, and Carlos. Ron and I thoroughly enjoyed the party, as I'm sure the other guests did. We had a swell time!
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