... ..no pets allowed ....May 1, 2004   Under threatening skies, the ocean churned like a sour stomach, belching and burning with no relief in sight unless, of course, the angry, purple clouds suddenly rained Nexium.  Or was it Prilosec?  Father Nelson couldn't remember and soon it would not matter.  The Carnival Cruise exorcism had gone wrong, terribly wrong.  Even if the cloven-hoofed bursar stopped sodomizing him long enough to steer the lifeboat to safety, the good priest knew he would never make cardinal. "This writing business isn't so hard," said Monroe to his cardboard kitty cutout, the non-shitting, non-shedding house pet he'd received as a Christmas present from his landlady. previous..|..current..|..archives..|..2d quarter index..|..next

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