Harmony Titzling, bendy acrobat. You should know about her. Taught herself to play the nose flute by ear, which is a pretty good act to catch. Might change your opinions on lots of things. If you don't know how to find her, just look for sparkles, then follow them. That might work. Sparkles, one of her specialties. I first heard about her from my friend Rufus, the free-range dust bunny. Mostly I amuse myself alone, but whenever Rufus is in town, hey, why not? We party. Sometimes at night, if you keep real still, you can hear him rustling in the bushes. He does that too. But prefers holding up stagecoaches, because the money is better, even if somewhat sporadic these days.
Catalina Buttonsnips was a P.E. teacher at my grade school, and a major insult to my love life, in that I could never get close enough to even begin humping her leg. And she was tall as well, and liked to carry a baseball bat, so I didn't get anywhere with her, at all.
Tammy Tawnypants led me astray, then abandoned me, so that's where I've been all these years. I did assemble a few friends out of pebbles and pine cones, though they really couldn't hold a candle to Tammy, since she wasn't there, and I didn't have any candles to hold. Either.
Melange d'Goo drew no flies and collected no dust, unlike every other woman I've encountered. What is it anyway about women and dust collection? And spider webs, for some of them.
Piffy Twips — now there was a woman. Printed on a four-color press, on durable waterproof card stock. (The waterproof aspect was important because of my predilection to drool.)
Caramel Popsy — rich, sweet, full-flavored. All in all, my kind of woman, nearly perfect, though she always went armed, so I never did more than peek at her and sigh quietly from across the street.
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Me? Mostly recovered by now.
