September 20, 2007

Sad week for the Creedster. My girlfriend decided to call it quits on me. She’s been locked up over in Muncy for the past seven years on a bogus B and E with intent to commit a felony. I can tell you with absolute certainty that LaDonna didn’t intend anything. She never does. Maybe that was the problem. With only a month left on her sentence, she told me she got cold feet. Wanted her options open when she got sprung, I guess. If she played nice, she could’ve gotten out a few years ago, but my little devil has lots of issues with authority. That’s one of the reasons we made such a good couple.


Me and LaDonna met in an airport bar back in the mid-Eighties. After eight rum runners, the bartender decided LaDonna had had enough. I didn’t agree. I ordered her another and put it on some pilot’s tab. That skinny bartender saw her drinking it and tried to kick her out, but I said hell no and threw my glass at the wall. At the same time, the dumb pilot noticed someone had been piling up drinks on his tab and that got him pretty steamed. So here I am, with the bartender yelling at me, the pilot yelling at the bartender and LaDonna whispering “mess ‘em up real good” into my ear. So I did what I had to. I took out a smoke bomb I smuggled back from China, threw that sucker on the floor and made a break for it with LaDonna. Now that’s love.


When she got locked up, I went a little nutso. Wrote her name all over my body with a permanent marker. It didn’t help me feel any better and I got some kind of ink poisoning, but once I got out of the hospital, I felt like I could deal with it better. She made me promise never to visit her in the clink and I agreed. Nobody wants to see visitors when they’re in a cage. We wrote letters, though. Long, intimate letters where we invented a new kind of kama sutra. You should see the one she called the dangling moose. It was sexy as all hell.


I’m going to miss LaDonna a lot, but lucky for me I’ve got the perfect cure for break-ups: half a bottle of Jack, six jalapeno poppers, and an unauthorized biography of Elizabeth Taylor. It also works for hangovers.