Memoirs of the Empress Dopplebock

I can remember my days with Walter as if they were yesterday. He was strong and lean. His golden locks would float in the wind when he ran across the Scottish meadows. We picnicked on the Seine, rode gondolas in Venice all the while holding each other as tight and as warm as a bear's embrace. Every day was a holiday, every evening a celebration of our passion. Our lives were simple, our love deep and our futures as vast and limitless as a Big Sky sunset.

But these were the days before the pollution of chemtrails, the Dhimmitude of ACRIS and the horrible horrible tenacity of fixture filings. These are mendacious times, times which sever memories, but the heart's sturdy insulation still protects the important ones.

Oh, I remember the days with the lovely Walt Dopplebock, thief of this Empress' heart.