Leslie's place

The neighbors are at Leslie's place and looks like they're all having the Sunday suburban time of their lives over there. I'm standing here by the 8-track machine and I can hear the fun summer sounds as they all lounge by the custom kidney-shaped swimming pool humming along to The Beach Boys' "Help Me Rhonda." I can't understand why they cast those devious stares in my direction with one eye half closed condemning me carelessly. I enjoy being indifferently amused as much as the obligatory subsequent gentleman, right? Maybe I just need to correct all my indiscretions against proper British grammar first. When I was little I used to think that syntax was a term to be avoided, but my Grandmother fixed me straight on that fact of which I must be forever indebted to her. Meanwhile, back at the party, I can see Devonshire tea is being served which makes me wonder… Will they have a warm salad of caramelized pear, potato gnocchi, Persian feta, shaved fennel and candied walnuts served as well? Oh to dine with the elite!

(c) & (p) 2012 subconscious mind publication company