Archives for the month of: March, 2012

Donna Louise here praising the person who invented the ATM card. Yesterday afternoon Mikey called to have me bail him and Lysistrata out of jail. The Penile Auxiliary Bake Sale turned ugly.

I made five dozen chocolate chip cookies and twenty-five red velvet cupcakes as my contribution to the event. The instructions said not to decorate or ice anything as the guys would do all that on Tuesday night before the bake sale.

I stopped by the market in Westport to buy some treats, but, no one was there. I figured they had sold out and gone home.

As I pulled into my driveway, Mikey called. “Donna Louise, I’m at the Linwood Police Station. Will you to bail me out of jail?”

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Could you help Lysistrata too? She doesn’t have any cash with her.”

Seems Mikey and the guys decorated the treats with drawings of private parts. One man made penis cookies which he decorated in a variety of flesh tones. Lysistrata made and bagged chocolate-covered almonds to sell as “nuts in a sack.”

 They had arranged with the store to set up a table outside the east entrance beginning at 10 a.m. The sale started on time and they raked in the cash for an hour and a half.

During that time a member of the Kansas City League of Christian Decency purchased some bake goods and took them to the Linwood police station to demand that the purveyors of filth be arrested for catering to the public’s prurient interests.

The police responded to the complaint by sending two cruisers and police van to the sale. When the officers arrived, they talked with Mikey and even bought some goodies.

The complainant, who apparently was watching from her SUV, became agitated and ran her vehicle into the goodie table. She exited her vehicle and grabbed Lysistrata by the neck. Mikey intervened. He punched the assailant and accidentally hit a police officer too. The other officers cuffed him and hustled him to the police van.

Lysistrata went crazy. “Police brutality.”

A small riot ensued. Lysistrata ended up in the police wagon too.

I visited an ATM machine and bailed them out. They sat in my car’s back seat barely able to keep their hands off one another. Being arrested can be so romantic.

I forgot to ask what happened to all the bake sale money.



Donna Louise here digging holes in my front yard. Mama gardened early in the morning so the new plantings could greet the dawn.

She continued her early morning planting routine even after the police arrested her for indecent exposure one morning at 4:30 a.m.

“Honey, I’d put on my gardening bra and panties, gathered my tools, and headed outside. I had ten bushes to plant as a hedge row across the front of the lawn. The weather was beautiful, warm, a cloudless sky, and right before dawn.”

“I’d planted the whole row of bushes and was crawling along on my hands and knees tapping down the dirt when I saw these red and blue lights flashing and heard a man’s voice say, ‘Lady, drop your weapons and stand up.’”

Mama stopped and shook her head as she mimed standing up.

“What could I do but stand up? I always obeyed the law. They cuffed me and took me to the Linwood Police Station where I sat for two hours with some of the roughest women I’ve ever been around. Really sweet, but they looked ‘ridden hard and put away wet’ as Papa always said.”

She laughed.

“One of the women sat down by me and said, ‘Honey, don’t show it all. Men like to discover your body…if you get my meaning.’ I thanked her for sharing a trade secret.”

“They put me in a line-up. The complainant, Agnes Lukewood, who lived across the street, identified me as the ‘naked woman cavorting in the dirt.’ You remember her, she always looked like she smelled something bad.”

“I pled not guilty and demanded a jury trial. I served as my own attorney. I didn’t need anyone to show them I was a good, upright citizen.”

“The judge told me I had a fool for a lawyer. I said, ‘That’s okay, as long as I don’t have a fool for a judge.’”

She held up the 1986 swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated. “I showed them these pictures and then my gardening bra and panties. I said, ‘I was more covered that morning in my front yard than these models were with millions of men oogling their bodies.”

” Guess they agreed because they found me not guilty. On older gentleman asked me if I’d like to garden with him. I declined.”

She chuckled. “Agnes never figured out why her perfect lawn had all those yellow spots.”

I never figured out what Mama meant.