The Wrath of Rosemary

On the evening of the Great Whiteaker witch-hunt, I got a message from someone who sits on the Whiteaker Community Council. He had heard rumors of what was coming. He told me if I showed up to defend myself from these outrageous accusations, he would not let me speak. Nor would he allow the Grand Sex Slanderers to use the community council to pass a law declaring I was a dangerous sex fiend stalking Belle Burch. The She-Devils also wanted permission to post images of me with choice exerts from my blog – all over town. They wanted me thoroughly…….SHAMED.

The Pussy Posse bid people to point me out, and accost me. They didn’t want me in the Whiteaker where Belle hangs out, and lives. This was her town. Her Warlocks were gunning for me. This was the side of her she did not want me to see when we met at the Wandering Goat. She did not want me know she had a Gang of Radicals behind her, for then I would not see her as a weak sex-kitten in need of a plump check, or trip to New York to take in a Broadway show.

I will keep the name of this council person top-secret lest there be retribution.

“I have caught wind of some unpleasantness between you some community members about some scary accusations. I have read some of your blog as well as some web posts from others involved and understand that it is your intention to show up at tonight’s WCC general meeting with intent to defend yourself against these accusations. It seems as though you are choosing this forum because some of your accusers or at least friends of the accusers were allegedly going to present posters and signs at the meeting. It seems that you have an idea that some of the characters involved have some affiliation with the WCC. One of the names mentioned in your blog was a board member some years ago but I can assure you that none of these characters are affiliated with the WCC currently beyond being community members.

It is my duty alone to create the agenda for this meeting and this situation is most certainly NOT on the agenda at all. Today was in fact the first we all heard of it. If you wish to come to the meeting to participate in discussion about parking, noise, zoning, taxes and events then I encourage your presence. However, if you plan to attend this evenings meeting to deal with this fairly personal issue, you will not be given the floor to speak and you will be asked to leave.

The WCC has no involvement in this situation and we intend to keep it that way. None of us really even know who any of you are. If you think that I/we may be able to help resolve/mediate this situation, contact me privately and I would agree to help only as a CURRENTLY non biased party. Sorry to e-meet you under such awkward circumstances. I would appreciate a message back with your current plans for this evening given the new information you now have about the parties involved and their lack of affiliation with the WCC. Thank you for your time.”

As 7:00 P.M. neared you could feel the crackling of bad vibes in the air. I was reminded of the time I lived in downtown Oakland and was warned by some black hookers I best get off the streets because the Black Panthers and the cops were going to have a shoot-out. Down in the Whiteaker dark shadowy figures were casting spells in the alley, sending nasty sparks of fear over the river at me. They had put my image on sticks, and after being asked to leave the meeting, they threw them down on the ground and took a piss on Mr. Presco.

I put a towel under my door and went for Rosemary’s Copper Box where in she kept all her wrathful spells of utter dispair. I reached in a grabbed one off the top. I heard the beams in the roof begin to creak. It wanted to take wing. I rushed and opened the sliding door to my patio, and out it whooshed, knocking down several pots of newly planted flowers that wilted in the after-draft!

“Forgive me, Mon Belle! What have I done!”

I show that spell above. If you have a weak aura, you might want to read it in a mirror. This dilutes it. It is penned in ancient witch-scratching that Rosemary learned from her mother, Mary Magdalene Rosamond. It mimics the claw of a Raven. What it does is take ones power to Forget away, and it all come rushing back. Many run to the mirror to see their minds explode in powerful fit of regret because their life has not turned out anywhere near as expected.

“That was the trouble with life. Unfulfilled wishes couldn’t be stored and taken out at more prosperous times. They dried up. Turning to straw like cut roses.”