V2: the Vomitola Summit

Although we can see Russia from right over here, sometimes the great heads of state must convene. And so with much fanfare and slicing of cantaloupe for continental breakfast, did Licketysplit journey from the New England seat of Vomitola to its New York office. Apparently the world has problems that not even Steve Strange can solve. Everywhere one is met with Audio/Visual Terror! Filthy, stringy men in fishnet quartershirts play bucket drums, people screech about poor cell phone connections, a terrier will stop and crap right in front of you! And so we pored over a hefty agenda that included staring out over the East River, gadding, lolling, letting you live (however ill-advised) and climate change (there was some). Of course, anytime the V2 unites there is bound to be dissent. Some of you do not approve of our zero tolerance policy toward mom-jeanshorts while others fight for the right to employ the term “irregardless”.

Over the hubbub of protest, much progress was made. We diagnosed ourselves with Asperger’s through a helpful online quiz, and, after much careful debate, determined that:

“At the end of the day, it is what it is.”

The controversy of who is “The Mary” continued, with Licketsplit gaining the upper hand in designating Lambchop “The Mary”.

This matter is far from over. Look for Lambchop to declare Licketysplit “The Mary” in the future. Will it be skywritten, will it be etched into the nose of a neutron bomb dropped on a muslim country? Every nation is permitted its secrets!

At last it was time for the summit to adjourn for the Veuve had been drained, the last goose slain, and the flag bunting due back at the rental. Your Lambchop is quite bereft, but I have decided to follow all those thoughtful reader suggestions on how to handle depression. I joined a club! Just waiting for everyone else to show up.

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