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Image by Aleksandr Slyadnev via Flickr

I came home yesterday and this naked lady was painting snail shells on my wall. I said "Hey duchess, I'm I pirate and your vandalism will NOT lead you to redemption!" We then found ourselves snorting Splenda for seven hours. "I guess your bonus went right up your nose!" she said. Then we drove around for an hour shooting deer with paintballs. She drank milk and threw up icecream. In the rearview I saw her moonlit on the highway, rave dancing. I saw her a month later and all she drew was ninja-turtles (still in the nude). I sent her a baby bird in a cigar box (there were holes). She sent satan over to my house to knock me down and kick my stomach and face. I wrote "The earth hums my penance." in indelible marker across her bumper. Even now, when I play my cigar box banjo, I whistle and chirp while I picture her hands emptying a loaded brush. (Everything sure seems like a crappy metaphor with a picture of a naked lady next to it.)