Issue # 000003
For the Week Ending 12/23/00
Sacred cows make the tastiest hamburger - Abbie Hoffman
This week began with Tabitha reading Theresa’s tea. The mighty
soothsayer of the painfully obvious made a stunning prediction. Theresa
will be crying. Now there’s some real headline news for
us. What else can you tell us Tabby? Is Ivy going to cry out for Sssaaammm? Will Julian have a brandy? Is Hank
going to feel guiltier than a television evangelist? Is Miguel going speak in monotone? Will half of Harmony still
not be able to hear a conversation that is taking place three feet away from them? Will I be sarcastic? Well? Will
Then Tabby was going to look into Theresa’s tea leaves again but she mistakenly picked up Pilar’s cup instead.
Tabitha was shocked at the vision before her. Sitting on the tailgate of a pick-up truck, in front of an all-night
Waffle House, were Pilar, Martin, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger.
Tabitha grinned mischievously and said, "I didn’t fall off turnip truck yesterday, I know EXACTLY what this
Pilar was stunned to find out the paternity secret she’d kept hidden for years was finally coming to light.
"What does this mean mama?"
"I’m sorry mija, Papa was a rolling stone, I’m just not sure which Rolling Stone was your papa."
Tabby tossed the cup aside and picked up a cup Miguel had left on the table during breakfast. She looked inside
and was mortified to see that Miguel and Charity were at the Lopez-Fitzgerald house about to make love.
"Dos Mio! Theresa, you must go over there immediately."
"Why Mama, what can I do?"
"Well mija, you are a walking advertisement for birth control."
Tabby tossed the cup aside and picked up another. This time it was Theresa’s. She grinned at the apparition before
her. She told Theresa that the two things she loved in life the most were in grave danger.
Pilar told Tabitha to please stop reading the tea leaves because it wasn’t helping anyone and it was really only
boring the viewers.
Theresa begged Tabby for more details and the witch said the only thing she could really make out was that they
were being held captive down at the wharf.
Theresa jumped up from the table, ran out the door and jumped on Miguel’s motorcycle. When she reached the wharf
she was surprised to see her old friend Chuck, sitting on a bench wearing a maniacal expression. On one side of
Chuck, there was Ethan, pinned to the bench with a giant paperclip. On the other side, her beloved cosmetics bag.
Chuck told her that before the night was over, one of them would die.
Theresa dropped to ground and pleaded for Chuck to not to force her to choose between the love of her life and
Ethan. If anything happens to either of them, she’ll just die.
Chuck said that could easily be arranged since he heard there was a sudden vacancy down at the cemetery.
Okay, so that’s not exactly
what happened this week. To tell you the truth I really didn’t pay too much attention to what Ho-White and her
Seven Lines were up to. It’s the Holidays for crying out loud! That reminds me – my fast forward button could probably
use an oil change. You want to know what happened with the Terror this week? Watch it yourself!
"Could I possibly be a bigger hypocritical moron?"
Quote of the Week
Theresa to Gwen:
"People like you have always amazed with their sense of entitlement - that anything they want is theirs for
The Bookcafe’s Top Ten Song Titles This Week
is a Tramp - Frank Sinatra
Complicated Eye Shadows
– Elvis Costello
Oops – Ethan’s an Idiot Again – Brittney Spears
Trembling After Midnight
– Patsy Cline
A Passage to BangEthan
Sick of Fate
– Olivia Newton John
How Dense is Your Love
– The Bee Gees
I Love the Way You Stalk Me
– John Michael Montgomery
Born to Lie
– Sara Evans
My Second Love
My apologies in advance to Clement Moore, St. Nicholas, and
all that is good and decent about Christmas.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when in the Crane Mansion
Julian was working on his latest "business" expansion
He was polishing his handcuffs with the utmost care
In hopes that Rebecca would soon be there
His wife Ivy was nestled all snug in her bed
While visions of Sammy-Skin danced in her head
And Ethan in his boxers, after a night-cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
Julian dropped his cuffs to see what was the matter
Away to the window he flew like a Crane
Ripped open the curtain and called out her name
The bright porch lights from Sher’s bungalow
Gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below
When, what to his lustful eyes did appear
But the housekeeper’s daughter and eight tiny reindeer
The reflection from her eyelids left him no error
He knew in a moment it must be the Terror
More rapid than a coherent thought leaving Ethan’s brain,
She scrunched, and whined, and called them by name;
"Now, MAYBELEINE! now, COVER GIRL! now AMWAY and AVON!
On, NOXEMA! on MAX FACTOR, NO-SMUDGE and REVLON!
To the top of the mansion! Go over the gate!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all! Its Fate!!"
As dry heaves that before a Theresa scene airs
When we’re forced to witness her trembling stares
So up to the housetop the reindeers were hurled
With the Terrorcita in tow, in her twisted little world
And then, in a twinkling, Julian heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof
As he poured his brandy, and was turning around
Down the chimney St. Theresa came with a bound
She was dressed in faux fur, matching purse and all
And her clothes were quite tasteless and two sizes too small
A bundle of gifts she had flung on her back,
And she looked just like Cinderella – except on crack.
Her eyes – how they glowed! Her expression was scary!
She must have just swallowed a big ‘ol canary!
Her troll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the hair on her lip needed to be mowed
Her pants – they clung to her legs like a sheath
And Julian shivered as he imagined what lie beneath
She had a broad face – flamboyant and frilly
That trembled when she cried like a bowlful of jelly
She was brazen and shameless, blatant and fussy
Julian wondered how Pilar could raise such a hussy
When she contorted her face like an old Irish setter
That’s when Julian knew for sure, he could do better
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work
Giving all of her presents to Ethan the jerk.
And laying her finger inside of her nose.
And giving a scrunch, up the chimney she rose:
She sprang to her sleigh, and was troubled to find
The reindeer were smarter than Ethan – they left her ass behind
But she heard Julian exclaim, like a loud Christmas Carol
"TO HELL WITH THEM ALL! DAMN LOPEZ-FITZGERALDS!"