And now we continue with our next installment of Formerly Fun's BlogOpera.

When we last left off, our heroine had flirted casually with the tousled, attractive barista at the local coffee shop. 

They laughed, they twinkled, they connected.

Where will the story go next?

- F. Lawrence Caslin

What’s so funny about ginger-haired people? I’m one myself. When I was a child I though it was something to be proud of – old ladies would pat my head in the supermarket and coo about my lovely golden locks, in that way old ladies do.

My fellow playmates were not so kind and I was an obvious target for the school bully. I soon learned that being called ‘ginger twat’ was not a show of affection. There was something wrong with me!  Like a pasty-skinned mutant with a faulty chromosome, I was destined to spend my life bleaching my hair and hiding my true identity.

I'm a liberal.  I am pro-choice and anti death-penalty.  I oppose the Iraq war, I voted for John Kerry, I recycle, and I've believed in global warming from the start.  I listen to NPR between seven and nine in the morning.  Then, between nine and noon, I switch to AM and listen to Dr. Laura Schlesinger.
 
I know.  She's pro-life, pro-war, pro-military, pro-Bush, anti-feminist, and I bet she doesn't listen to NPR.  She and I cancel each other out.  Yet I listen with rapt attention as she dispenses her bitter advice, her voice snapping with sarcasm.  It's as bracing as a strong cup of coffee.

As a kid, I thought that I had learned everything I needed to know about sex.

My sources of information came from porno mags found in car wash garbage cans, gleaning statements here and there from older boys, and watching the Benny Hill show.

Years later I realized that I may not have known the whole story ...

I'm starting an ongoing serial exclusively for my website readers -- But Scrivel readers get the premiere ... of each installment. Start it here, finish it there. Such a deal!

Part One: Bloodletting

Installment 1

“Duck!”

I dove for it. I mean, you grow up like I did, you don’t hesitate. I was under the nearest desk faster than you could say ‘your uncle’s a lunatic.’

And now we return to the second part of Suzy Soro's Chapter One in her unreleased book, All the Bad Sex I’ve Had, a very, very, very long book.

When last we left the story, Suzy answered the phone and it was her friend, Doré, saying she had killed her cat.  Not really, but Doré is one of those types that blows everything out of proportion.  Oh, the cat was dead, but Doré putting salt on her food once hadn't done it.

Anyway, Suzy shared the story of her dead Yorkie's spirit coming back to her a week after he died.  Her grandmother, her stepmother.  They all stopped by after dying.  Suzy was trying to comfort Doré by telling her that maybe her Princess would come back for a visit sometime.  

The conversation was going nowhere and Suzy made up a fake phone call to get Doré off the phone ... 

- F. Lawrence Caslin