overheard at "the place".
LA PIAZZA
THE MYSTERY OF MOUNT CARMINE
For those readers who are unaware, Mt Carmine is the Italian way to say Mount Carmel, legendary because the prophet Elijah was taken to heaven by a chariot of fire driven by angels. Hence the idea that Weinstein was arrested for smuggling Milk Duds into his cell via his attorney, is a pun on Weinstein trying to get to heaven and avoid being murdered in jail, like Elijah, though obviously the two men are very different.
but in the end, "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God".
Please note, readers, these tales are written to cheer a woebegone heart. For example, the experience of wandering the streets of the west side in a woebegone way becomes the humorous tale of the fake fruit tart caper. This use of comedic literature goes back to the medieval tradition of Chaucer, Bocaccio and others, (Bocaccio may be translated, "dirty mouth" whereas Chaucer could be translated, designer jeans), writing ribald stories about serious and tragic topics such as the plague and the religious wars of England.
Please also note, the text still needs to be proofread more to correct all the typographical errors. Some are deliberately used as puns and jokes and some are used as accurate representations of certain local dialects, but some are mere sloppiness.chapter whatever, "God is all up in the bidness", or, "Beelzebeeb gets a sidewise volcano wedgie"
Weinstein's milk dud caper left the planning of the pandora parties open to anyone. I"ll do it, said Milk Dud, here's the new rule:you don't have to kiss baals behoolee anymore...Milk duds all around, God will pick up the tab.
Snoop and martha took a break from short selling bergamote stock to make a milk dud cake for babs' birthday).
Upon hearing that God had busted up his stupid empire, Satan blew a cog and a new volcano erupted somewhere in the ring of fire.
Never mind, you old blow hard, said Uriel. just pipe down. You'll get your milk duds too eventually.
My mount carmel is just as good as His, yelled beelzebebebe and a pyroclastic surge blasted over the plains of Megiddo. Moses toppled off Sinai and burned his buzzo on the bushes, while the commandment tablets bonked Aaron in the forhead.
O GAWD said St Michael. Actaull that could work, said God. YOu're supposed to keep these commands on your forehead, and thats why Jews do that to this day. (this is a legend, ok)meanwhile not far from le bain.
Happy Sunday, everybody! You'll note if you listened to Pope Francofone, (hehe) ALSO ISN'T IT THE 9TH ANNIVERSARY OF HIS PROMOTION TO THE PAPAL POSITION? AUGURI, CICCIO!!!! BUT REMEMBER, "he that is the greatest of all must be the least."
that Jesus was transfigured on a mountain. It wasn't Mount Carmine but maybe it was too hot and he thought the sun and/or the glory of the Lord shining in his essence might make mount carmine all gooey. who knows.
Anyways Francophone says the apostles were snoozing off instead of praying and we need to try to listen to Jesus a bit before we snooze off at night. it's hard but we have to try just a little.
To illustrate our point, let us go down to the piazza where Dud was completely ignoring Venchi's and was queued up at a hot dog wagon. That's insolito, said Gemz, who was trying to track her down since the sun was setting low.
take 'er easy, old sport, said dud.
we're not on wall street and you're not gatsby, ok? we need to get back home.
I just need a francophone so I can talk to God tonight before I go to bed,
Relish with that? interrupted the hot dog vendor.
sure, let's kraut it up, I mean it is a FRANK furt, dud guffawed
O gawd, said gemmy I need a vacation.
You don't need a francophone, interrupted the archbishop of canturbury who was pilgrimaging to Leo's to find out if beelzebub really did live at the Pandora Palace on 23rd.
Look what happened to Becket.
Yeah what did happen to becket let me ask god, said dud, putting the frank to her ear. hello. hello? That's funny, the battery must be dead.
Paparazzi converged on St Vincent's church to investigate a sighting of the cantor thomas A reckette, famous for his unswearing devotion to church music and his vitriolic debates with area djs on the best record store in the five boroughs.
At the assizes of Thomas A bergamot, Dud and weinstein were both on trial for cnotraband milk duds. Joinder or severance, your honor, said the bailiff consulting the day's docket.
The carmel seems to have glued them together, the judge said. Joinder, I guess. EEEWWWW said dud, thats GROSS!!! how can I be tried in the same trial as that wack job? All I wanted to do was get to the top of Mount Carmine and catch the angel's lamobo to heaven!
#METOO yelled weintein, shoving the counsel table over and lunging at the milk duds that had been "entered into evidence" in front of the jelly bean jury.
yeah, but he's rich! dud shrieked indignantly. I dont even have one thin dime!
Yea there is neither rich nor poor, slave nor free, Said Thomas Becket, (or should this be friar damian,)
who had wandered in to see how the trial was progressing.
O GAWD said the judge, I forgot to go to church this past five milion sundays. He consulted a theology manual..a kempis a quinas a becket AHA here we are, tomas a becket executed while saying mass in a romero esqu plot, by the knights of king whodunnit in 1024, is tht correct?
Suddenly an attorney dressed in a $3000 valentino suit dahsed in breathless. YOur honor, I move to add charges of false fruit tarts to milk duds' indictment, he cried, Wheres your witness/ the harried judge said wearily. A passle of chelsea bakers filed in and lined up in front of the bench. Milk dud always comes in the caffe and asks if we have black berry tarts they said. We spent tow hours making one and then call her up and say its ready and she says "I never said I wanted one I jsut wanted to see if you had them. JAJAJAJAJJAJJAJA" You see that said Jemmy you wouldnt know good behaviour if it walked up to you at a convention wearing a nametag 6 inches wide.
O look whos talking Mr "big lebowski" Your honor I want to charge this man with lewd and lascivous conduct unbecoming a musical psychologist.
Ok thats it said the judge, recess!
cool, said all the resdient of hte tenderloin, time to play lose my marbles.
THIS SHORT STORY WAS SUBMITTED AS A CREATIVE WRITING SAMPLE FOR SOME KIND OF GIG WORK.
Early that morning, Milk Dud arose before dawn to continue her pilgrimage to Carmine Street, where the purple Lamborghini "chariot of fire" driven by Archangel Uriel was said to pass by on its way to Paradise. The paparazzi left over from last nights' Le Bain karaoke were trailing at a distance, unwittingly littering popcorn crumbs from their Valentino suits onto the Chelsea sidewalk. As the entourage approached Father Demo square, the strains of Father Boombazzis' rich Sicilian baritone filled the.air in a rousing rendition of "o Sole Pio" his own cover of the Pavarotti classic which he had somehow never been able to secure the copyright for. The pigeons drinking from the fountain chimed in with accompaniment. There's the lambo! dud cried, rushing forward to grasp the angel's hand. As the vehicle approached, lurching awkwardly onto the church belfry and dislodging a few roof tiles, the shape of a purple turtle with large, icarus-like wings could be descried in the breaking dawn. "Sorry," said Uriel, the Lambo's in the shop, I had to take a turtle.
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