Is that a broom b/w your legs or RU just happy 2C me?

Dear Mr. Dickens,

I hope this finds you well. ‘Twas a rather dreary day here in the nation’s capital today but my weather bug shares with me that there is the promise of sun tomorrow (well at least a few peeks here and there through clouds scheduled to pass over through most of the day). It was the kind of day that would have been perfect to lounge in bed and taste the sweet lips of a lover (or two <g>) as it was far too beastly to do anything other.

Let’s see, to continue my twisted tale of quantum connections I suppose is what’s in order with this letter. So let me proceed with such.

Shortly after I received the keyword hit “brokeback mountain bondage”, I received an email from the gentleman G. with whom I’ve been doing the Lido Shuffle for a year plus now. I had just shut down the slate and was about to ready myself for bed after working on a few writing exercises. The message was to wish me a merry Xmas and it included two photos (one of an erect member [I assume his] and one of an exterior of a house [again, I assume his]). Due to my annoyance of having received yet another pic of a penis from G., I missed a couple of context clues hidden in the photos (more on this later), and merely responded with the curt response of “One word. Speechless.” and wished him a merry Xmas as well put the Xoom and Droid X on silent and rolled over hoping to find myself quickly embraced in the arms of Morpheus.

I was kicked out of R.E.M. at approximately 2 a.m for whatever reason and noticed the Xoom was blinking to let me know that I’d received a message. I removed it from its charging cradle, pressed the on button to bring it to life and noticed there was a message from G. that had been dispatched shortly after midnight. In this message, he pondered as to how a gentleman as my self, with such above average skills in the use of language, might be left speechless. He included a photo which was of a vintage advertisement for Coca-Cola that included Santa holding said beverage along with an address book, his list of those presumably having been nice on his desk, and on the floor next to him a globe of the world. While this image piqued my interest, I rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep after padding to the bathroom to relieve the call of nature since I was awake.

At approximately 5 a.m. I was once again awakened, this time to the obvious need to heed the call of nature. As I jumped back into the bed and pulled the covers about my head thoughts of the image of Santa returned to my consciousness once again. I was curiously drawn to this image because of the soda in his hand. This odd fascination with Santa’s beverage was due to the fact that in the late spring I’d come upon a personal ad posted by MMRFRO while cruising ads on OkayCupid. In his ad, D. extrapolates that he’s a simple man due to his love of mac & cheese and Pepsi. But what I found evermore curious about the photo was the file name “5V”. Okay, that makes absolutely no sense, I thought as I considered the photo. However, my subcon kicked in and made a quick connection to the tarot and the number five. “I wonder if 5(V) is the Hierophant?” I wondered aloud following the lead of my subcon. I quickly pulled a book from a shelf of the barrister bookcase next to the bed and confirmed that yes, indeed the Hierophant is number V in the major arcana.

According to The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Tarot, the book I referenced, the Hierophant is all about the lure of conformity. The card also represents education and connection with one’s community. He is the one who teaches the tribes how to connect and communicate through a common understanding, whether it is language, spirituality, or commerce. The underlying idea is the social evolution precipitated by both individuals and groups in combined efforts.

With this in mind, I sat down the morning of  Xmas eve before heading down my mother’s to draft a quick response to G. While I was hoping to find a tarot card with Santa as the Hierophant, I was unable to do so. However, as I did the google search hoping to find such an image, I came upon a card from a deck I own, The Alchemical Tarot Renewed.  I quickly scanned both the front and back of the card and drafted a response to G. that included the following, “And the heat is rising with the last message as we’re a little closer to the requested re-mix via Kaskade and dear Haley. We may get there yet.” I attached the photos that I’d scanned of the cards (The front with the file name “santa_is_that_U” and the back with the file name of “on_the_way_2_six”).

Shortly thereafter the remix was revealed.

At 14:58 on Xmas Eve I received a hit to the biddy-biddy-blog with the keyword “ghosts near ghoti”. When I initially checked my stats that afternoon, saw the keyword combination and quickly checked the location of the hit, I laughed from obviousness of the context in regard to recent posts concerning spooks, etc. However, it wasn’t until I later did a deeper geolocate on the hit that I nearly shat a Xmas twinkie (or two) out my arse. The hit originated in Mumbai, on a thoroughfare named “Red Cross Street” and across from the “Israel Building.” I began to hear Rod Serlings voice in my head as I viewed the screen. The reason? Earlier in the week when I met with the gentleman who is my virtual doppelganger by way of having the same first initials and last name, he mentioned Clara Barton (the founder of the Red Cross) in a conversation, and my friend J. is currently residing in Israel. But it was with the next discovery I nearly fell off my chair laughing.

The keyword search hit the following letter that I’d written to St. Rita concerning a conversation I’d had with a grocery clerk at the Safeway nearby regarding a near death experience he’d had many years ago. The reason I laughed at this hit? The letter was entitled “Don’t shoot the messenger” and the graphic that I created to go with the message included the text “Bang! Bang! I Got Mine”. The very same phrase that I’d used as a file name for a photo that I sent G. during an email exchange several weeks ago regarding our mutual interest in target shooting.

Believe it or not the quantum threads wind even tighter around the axis mundi with this one. But once again, I need to redirect and concentrate efforts on other tasks. However, I promise I will complete this tale tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I ran into a clerk at the very same Safeway mentioned earlier who totally trips my gaydar. He’s a gentleman from Uruguay that has the cutest face, sweetest accent, the most divine alabaster skin, and darkest ebony eyes I’ve ever seen. Yesterday as we were finishing up the transaction he inquired as to whether I needed assistance with my bags. I jokingly replied, “I’m hoofing it. I doubt you’d want to carry these all the way back to my apartment.”

He shot me the sweetest smile and said, “If it were after five, perhaps I’d be able to do so?”

Somewhat thrown I replied, “There you go!” as I grabbed my cart and thanked him. Of course the thought, F*ck yeah! I’ll be back at 5 screamed loudly in my head the entire time.

 Maybe it’ll happen yet…