Sweddah Rosso


Until I Read … Heard About … Possibly Added To … An Urban Myth That More Plumbers Drive Ferrari’s Than Lawyers.  Makes Sense To Everyone Except Attorneys.  Because Nothing Goes Better With Butt Cleavage Than Corso Rosso The Iconic Ferrari Racing Red — The Only Color Of The Famed Italian Marque Its Fickle Fanboy Tifosi Wear.

Okay, Red’s Not My Color.  Aside From A Couple Of Casual T-Shirts In Washed-Out, Faux Vintage, Spun Cotton Made To Look Old And Me Relevant, I Own One Notable Article Of Red Clothing (*).

The Asterisk Is Required To Plea Bargain My Ignorance.  Are Pajamas (*) Clothing?  Evidently, My Ignorance Didn’t Reveal Itself Entirely Until This One Wintery Day When I Decided To Sport A Redder Than Santa Claus Driving A Fire Engine Sweddah During A Christmas Family Brunch.  Having Nephews Call Me Uncle Rudolph Isn’t Funny.  We Settled On Zio Rudy Over Grappa Shots And Cannoli’s.

“By Sweddah, I Mean A Mini Waffle-Knit Crewneck Pullover With A Tiny Embroidered Logo Of A Dude In Chaps Riding A Horse Trying To Smack A Ball With A Big Mallet Over The Port Side Of The Chest.”


Ferrari’s Logo Is An Multi-Colored Emblem (A Heater Shield As Its Known In Heraldic Nomenclature Of European Medieval Origin) Of An Androgynous Black Prancing Horse On A Yellow Background, Nicely Topped By The Tre Colore — Verde, Bianco & Rosso — Of The Italian Flag.

I’ve Driven A Ferrari OnceFor About 30 Minutes In 1994 On A Brilliant Saturday Afternoon.  It May Be The Only 1/2 Hour Of My Life That I Remember Every Exhilarating Moment.  And, At Least The Second Most Fun I’ve Ever Had In A Car …

Ferrari 308 GTS Targa — Black With Tan Leather Interior — Gated Shifter.  Very Similar To The 3 Models (Different Years) That Tom Selleck Drove In Magnum, P.I.  Except In Color, And Of Course, I’ve Only Worn A Hawaiian Shirt (High School Halloween Party) And Have Never Rocked A ‘Stache, But It’s Made Its Way On To My Phuket List.

“Snarly.  Bad Boy, Temperamental, Ill-Mannered Little Bastard.  Enough About My Good Points … The Car Was A Prick Of A Joy To Drivem Too.”


I’ll Be Updating My Curriculum Vitae With Fixer Of Toilets In The Unnecessary Skills Section … 

The Old Flushing Mechanism On One Of My Toilet Tank’s Inner Sanctum Went For Broke And Sprouted A Pair Of Water Breaches.  In General Terms, Plumbing Isn’t Supposed To Leak.  So, I Did What I Do Best After Procrastinating I Can’t Remember How Long I Sashayed Into A Big Box Store And Picked Out A Smartly-Packaged, Mick-Proof, Adjustable Toilet Fill Valve Kit Universal QuietFILL Platinum Fit By A Reputable Outfit Called Korky.  

QuietFILL Is Code For Fucking Tsunami.  But, Its Worth Every Cent Of The $19.99 I Spent According To Righteous Testimony I Solicited From Plumbing Zen Master Steve Dapper In The Snappy Blue Smock Of Discontent, And The Additional $6.99 Invested In The Wrong-Size Braided Water Line That I Didn’t Need.

“An Hourish Later … I’m Basting In The Musky Elixir Of Sweat And Cobalt Blue Toilet Water … Looking Enough Like A Hopeful Understudy For The Blue Man Group, Deciding Never To Shower Again And Shave My Head While Trying To Squeeze Into A “Hey Now” Lycra Mantard.  Flattering Like It Was 1996 Now.”


I Wasn’t Able To Fashion My Butt Cleavage To Anyone Except My Pup — Raffi And His Impossible Cuteness Of Being. 

Being A Trained Canine Assommelier, Raf Knows A Thing Or Two About Butts With A Good Nose And Eye For What Works And What Doesn’t.

According To Raf’s Exalted Opinion, I Don’t Have The Required Depth Of Intergluteal Cleft To Be A Professional BeeCee Model.  Y’Know, That Adorable Separation Of Chubbly Buoyant Body Love Bunching Up And Cascading Over A Sagging Belt Line Best Accentuated By Droopy-Assed Dungarees.

“The Medical Term Is Posterior Rugae.  So, It’s A Thing.  You Wouldn’t Be Out-Of-Place Calling It The Crena.  Either One Is Not All They’re Cracked Up To Be If You Ask Me.”


Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

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