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DE GREEK AND ME: TILL DEATH OR POWER OUTAGE DO WE PART
After being away for an extended time, I've recently been seduced back by a very debonair Internet presence. He's quite charming and dashing with the air of a Greek God who is so gifted with words that I can't resist him. Recently, in my enthusiasm over a tribute to this magnificent specimen of a man, I accidentally got my customs confused and smashed a champagne glass under my foot thinking it was a Greek custom to honor him. Alas, it turns out to be a Jewish custom meaning I was married to this Greek charmer, and he was very kind in pointing that out to me, yet he did it in his usual smooth manner which was like butter on a hot summer day.
Of course, everyone knows that he, De Greek, is already married to the most beautiful woman on earth, but would someone like him ever embarrass me further? No. That's how wonderful he is. But, being a simple-minded mountain girl, who happens to have moments of pure brilliance, just not on this particular day, I missed a moment of extreme opportunity. I hope it's not too late!
De Greek and Pam Roberson are hereby "cyber" married by means of a well-known Jewish marriage tradition because Pam carried through with said tradition in front of internet WITNESSES and it is now fully documented in Cris A's comment section of the following Internet article, "In black and white: Our man De Greek confesses."
In addition, as fate would have it, I had a date with a fine Jewish fellow about 3 weeks ago, and I called him to confirm the meaning of this glass stomping ritual. He said that I performed the tradition accurately and completely, so there's no backing out now for De Greek. My Jewish consult also said that he will testify to this in any court in any land (U.S. or England, but probably not China or Egypt) providing I go out to dinner with him again.
It was also of great wonderment to him that I was capable, with my seemingly delicate feet, of stomping a glass and shattering it so effectively with one swift blow. He knows not of my heritage, my mountain blood, and how my hillbilly ancestors have been stomping things, hot things, with our bare feet for centuries...cigarettes, wild fires (usually started by moonshine accidents), camp fires, grease fires (we fry everything)...you name it, we stomp on it.
Ah, De Greek, my dashing wordsmith of charm and refinement, you are a lucky man to have me by your side...especially since you are dyslexic and may require my unscrambling abilities when my poor memory can recall that you are dyslexic.
WHY WE SHOULD BE UNITED AND YOU SHOULD FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE
1. While I may not have displayed this fully yet, I do possess a certain amount of vanity and ego regarding my delusions and abilities to charm and attract the opposite sex. For those of you who aren't aware, my exit hub was a cougar tale where I innocently seduced a construction worker half my age with my headlights while wearing flip flops and sweat pants. Oh yes. I have more of those tales waiting in the wings involving a cop and a cowboy--I guess you could say I've experienced a regular buffet of Village People lately.
I can also provide a documented family tree of women who have exhibited similar traits throughout history and the alluring, irresistible genes of my bloodline cannot be denied or argued. There have been women in my family who, by no fault of their own, have caused priests to leave the priesthood, men have gone blind (it wasn't cataracts or macular degeneration as the medical community would have you to believe!), and there have been an unfortunate number who have died from heart irregularities after merely sleeping in the same bed with various women in my family. This curse is a true burden, but what am I to do?
I'll never forget my vacation in France where men nearly had car wrecks in their excitement over me. People used to laugh in admiration over how slowly I strolled down sidewalks, and I explained to them that all Southern people mosey...we take our time when walking from one destination to the other. When crossing busy intersections, the excitable hand gestures men gave me as I sauntered across the road were quite flattering. I'd give a slow turn, and then wave a queen-like wave and blow them a kiss, but that only made them more excited. I wish I understood the French language, because they were also saying some very sexy French things while waving their arms at me.
Anyway, we all know about De Greek's delicate yet powerful ego, so our match is beyond perfection. Ego for ego, I think we compliment each other nicely. Our union will rival the romantic love stories of all times. There is no greater story than ours! Forget about Heathcliff and Catherine! That's tragic child's play! Romeo and Juliet DIED for gosh sakes! Marc Antony and Cleopatra? Pffft! Please!!! Again...they both DIED! De Greek and I will never die! We love ourselves too much for death or to die for the sake of love! You see? We are made for each other.
2. His writing is far better than mine, and I need his help! If you don't believe me, then try reading A Guaranteed Cure for Smoking. Which reminds me...De Greek, my darling one, are you planning on buying me one of those fine mink coats? Of course, I'll require a necklace to go with the coat, but it'll need to match my eyes...diamonds and sapphires always make my eyes leap with passion. But back to my point...his writing is better than mine, and if I'm going to make a comeback, then I need to jump on the coattails of someone who's at the top of his game. De Greek clearly is. I need him desperately...he is my muse, my inspiration, my ticket out of the blank space of writer's block--plus he's really hot to look at.
3. Wedding gifts are cool, and I need some small kitchen appliances. The finish on my George Foreman grill is getting sticky, so I could use one of those, and my coffee pot needs to be replaced. Just load me up with a little bit of anything and everything. Forget about the china, crystal and silver...I've been married twice before and I have plenty of that--although one can never have too many gravy boats. I need more of those. A Dirt Devil hand vac would be nice too. I'll be making up a full list of items most needed. Thank you in advance!
4. Lastly, the real beauty of our union is that since we live in different countries, and since he is already married to a woman even more alluring than me, I'm sure he won't mind if I see other men. Right darling? I have a date lined up for this weekend with a really hot fireman, and I'd hate to cancel at the last minute. Plus it might make for a great story to write later. That is another beautiful aspect of our relationship, I'm sure that he, my loving cup of ouzo, respects my needs as an artist who needs artistic stimulation. That's all this fireman is to me--artistic stimulation for my writing.
These four points should clearly show that De Greek and I are meant to be married. If not, then that's too bad. We're already married, and everyone should send wedding gifts to me, I mean us, but it's more practical to send them to me. I'll provide more details towards in closing.
MAMA DE GREEK
While I'm certain that Mama De Greek loves me already, I have one concern about keeping this sacred union united. De Greek, my sweet little Baklava, mentioned that I must meet his mother prior to the honeymoon, and I'm not sure if this meeting will be held in person or through a video conference--either way, it's of great concern that she might attempt to trick me into performing a Greek divorce ceremony.
Mama De Greek is very clever and quite skilled with the various instant messenger programs. I received a rather abrupt instant message from her just today through Windows Live Messenger where she gave me "the look" with expert usage of an emoticon. It was a skeptical face emoticon sporting a distinct raised eyebrow that can only be likened to Dirty Harry cocking his Magnum 44 while saying through tightly clenched teeth, "Go ahead punk, make my day."
I tried my best to pacify her by replying,"My dearest Mama De Greek, your son is a very honorable man who is only trying to make an honest woman of me! I am your humble servant forever Madame!" For good measure, I added a kissy face emoticon. Without haste she quickly sent another message that said, "You Jezebel you!"
Jezebel? This is but one of many names she's called me lately. Is she confused about who I am or is this a Greek custom representing her affection for me? At 89 or 98 years old (my heavenly Greek God keeps reversing the numbers on me), she could be slightly confused, so I must take measures to straighten this out in a tactful way...
De Greek, darling, please tell your sweet mother that my name is not Nancy Wanker, Fanny, Loo-loo Face, Slag Tart, Fooktart, Jezebel, Medusa, Dollywood White-Trash, or Banshee Mud-Witch. While I appreciate her gestures in making frequent contact with me through Yahoo! Messenger, Windows Live Messenger and AIM, the names she's calling me are a bit perplexing; however, her excitement is very encouraging!
A Very Innocent Wedding Song
I'm planning a reception right here in the United States, and I've secured a banquet room at a very swanky hotel in the town where I live (the Moose Lodge was full). After picking out the most perfect wedding song, "Nothing Compares to You," by Sinead O'Connor, I contacted her agent to request that she sing it live at our reception; however, I needed her to add two simple words to the song so that it would sing like this: "Nothing compares to you, but ME."
She refused! Can you believe it?? Doesn't she know who we are? I've now recovered after finding the second best song for us, "Crimson and Clover." I think it's a beautiful song, and I've included a video, but I haven't watched it yet. I hope it fits our sacred vows appropriately!
The buffet will be a combination of Greek and Southern food, although I couldn't find anyone in the area who knows anything at all about Greek food. But I did find a woman who works at the local bingo hall who has a cousin who works at the supermarket who has a friend who works at a German restaurant who knows a very nice Italian person who just happens to know how to make Gyros.
The most special part will be the wedding cake! And I'm also saving De Greek lots of money, because I happen to know a cowboy (okay, I dated him a couple times, so I'm getting an INSANE discount!) who is willing to hide IN the cake and jump out with his gun(s) blazing as we cut it! Isn't that spectacular? I'm so excited! I'm excited for our guests of course, not for myself. De Greek is more than enough man for me.
Please know that it's perfectly acceptable and expected to send wedding gifts directly to me...Pam Roberson-De Greek. Actually, I won't be adding De Greek to my name at all since I'm a more independent type of "wife on the side who lives in a different country than her husband" woman, so just send gifts to Pam Roberson, and I'll make sure that my loving husband takes part in seeing me open these gifts through some form of Internet video conference.
There are many more details to share about the honeymoon and further exploitations of our sensational union which is probably already unparalleled in history, and I'll be sharing everything!