Sleuth Home - Ask Shady
I has seen youse all have a newly crowned beauty queen: Miss Lulah of the mythical al-Q variety. Now firstly lets me congratulates her, she is a fine piece of work if I ever dids see one, and it is heartenin' to know that at least some of youse deadbeats have a bit of taste in da broads.
Now Anikka axes me;
"I'm just wondering why you weren't part of the annual beauty contest..."
I am sorry to say that it just happened to be that I had a most pressin' engagement outa town. Sophie4 came close to da mark when she axed me, "you on vacation or just out bustin some legs?". I admits it was a lot of da latter, which subsequently does often feel like a holiday to me Sophie, so I must say I have come back somewhat refreshed and relaxed.
I even thought about lettin' another member of the Shady Brotherhood answer some of your questions, but while we is all equally adept at shakin' down the bums that needs us, most of da brevren's literary pursoots extend about as far as da comic strip in yer local rag. Heck I mentioned Plato at a local chapter meetin' last week, and one of my so called 'colleagues' calls me out sayin', 'Everyone knows da Mouse's dawg can't speak or write none'.
So's t'cut a short story long, yes, regrettably I missed da pageant.
Now, whilst I don't think I am no work of art, and worthy of no tiara, sash or fan, I thinks I woulda made a fine judge (and jury and executioner, when it comes to it). I can assure you my methods woulda been quite thorough and anyone left standin'... err who fulfilled the requirements of my subtle interviewin' techniques... would have been one worthy winner.
Seems though, don't it, that we is all obsessed by beauty. Even yours truly. Admittedly I spends a great deal of my time re-arranging said beauty into something far less palatable, but them is err 'da breaks'. And, I still appreciate it before I mess it up some.
But it makes me think about somethin' some squirrely type once told me: 'Beauty is in da eye of da beer holder'.
Me, I likes a dame who isn't too obsessed with herself; with her body image. Take BIG (not fat...BIG) Lucy for example now.
And, might I add, that there has been so many questions 'bout Lucy's largesse... 'esse' people, I said 'esse'... that dis seems as good a time as any to answer some.
Now Lucy is a broad who carries what she has with style. Admittedly most of what she carries would be better transported on a flatbed truck, but what she's got she flaunts.
She 'was' what us shallow types'd call a ?beauty?, once. It was 'Little Lucy' back then, a glamour girl model type. Photos in the glossies, Flappers Monthly, and all that. A real life dilettante of da jet set; tall, slim, beautiful, famous, rich, men hangin' off her like bees to da honey pot... and sad as all get out.
So she let it all go. Let 'herself' go. Let herself be who she was meant to be. Regardless of what that meant.
There aint no story of some broken hearted dame; aint no jilted lover saga here. No eatin' yer way into oblivion to forget some wrong, to erase some 'pain'. No, s'just someone surenderin' to themselves. Findin' happiness in their own skin.
Simple as that.
And you know what? Not much has changed. Lucy's still famous. Still gets herself (well, most of her) on the cover of them glossy magazines. Still rich. Still has men hangin' off her... OK maybe some of them dumb apes has just been pulled into her gravitational field... but she's about the happiest dame I know.
When Lucy walks into a room everyone stops and smiles. that's right, not 'laughs and points', but 'smiles'. If you meet Big Lucy and don't go away a happier person, well, then you're a joyless son of a gun.
What is beauty? It is 200 pounds of staggerin' woman flesh? Sometimes? sometimes? yes it is.
I might add, me and Lucy, we go ways back, before I was Shady even, and I wouldn't be makin' smart about her if I didn't knows her well enough to count her as one of Shady's few and true friends.
You mess with Lucy and you mess with me. Capiche?
And that, I think, is as good a place as any to winds up my little tete a tete with youse all.
Oh, and remember you bums, beauty is only skin deep, but a mean and ugly nature, well, that cuts right to da bone.
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