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Just as the grass grows greener in the neighbors

  • Just as the grass grows greener in the neighbors garden, ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. Though my marm tried to keep that sight from my eyes, I stowed away on
  • the SS Lincoln just as it left Marseilles on that cloudy overcast day in 1856. I felt the sting of stiff salt air on my face as we pulled out and I saw French soil for the last
  • time. I was glad to smell the fresh sea breeze and no longer surrounded by stinky French people eating garlic and wearing too much perfume. The SS Lincoln anchored in Portsmouth
  • Maine. I leapt off the gangplank looking for 3 days of shore leave. I cursed as I saw the banner. "Portsmouth, Home of Chanel No. 5's Annual Gallcophile Garlic Festival"
  • Portsmouth's garlic festival was putting a major strink on this sailor's plans for the locals. "Farewell and a pee-yew, you fair ladies of Maine." I called my taxidermist friend to
  • pick me up dockside (he was also owned a taxi). "No can do, bud," he replied. "I can't go anywhere near the Portsmouth Garlic Festival, remember? I'm a vampire." I had forgotten
  • whether or not I turned off the oven & was too busy counting hairs on my arm in sets of 5 (habit I'm trying to break) to pay attention to what he was saying. The vamp seemed to
  • kibitz anywhere there was free donuts. The tedious details of the vamp's life hit a new level quantity at the
  • Vamp Self Help Group she went to at the library on a Tuesday afternoon. There was a tube strike so it was only her & the Vamp Counsellor as the other vamps couldn't walk in highhee
  • haws. So she and the vamp counsellor caroused in limitless disgrace, forgetting Bunnicula watched from his cage. The hickeys were by far enough evidence in the aftermath--yeesh.

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