Swamp Water

Cyril had seen better days; elite hotels where Perrier with a Ph of 5 was the drink de jure.  After the market crashed he took to drinking from public fountains; perhaps free diving for small change.  He was in total shock when he drank thirstily at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.  The traveler’s guide book prepared by the Face of Everyman gave no hint as to the swamp water pigswill a refined guest would encounter.  The clinic staff assured Cyril that he did not need a Tetanus booster shot.


Graydon had chosen the lush gardens of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa as the setting to announce his candidacy.  His wild promises to drain the swamp and curtail illegal immigration brought gasps from his meager audience.  the Face of Everyman tried to whisper a new stratagem.  Unwittingly he offered Graydon: “A chicken in every pot.”

Flying Circus

One of the Bergdorf twins buzzed the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.  The Flying Circus was encamped at the meadow and daring feats of flying could be seen this very afternoon.  For the Face of Everyman this meant that his nap would be cut short by the hubbub of the onlookers.  While anxious mothers feared that their fledglings would be lured away by the thrill being a risk taking aerial acrobat.


New Suits

Taco and Paco were all dressed up in their new outfits.  With time on their hands they decided to hang out at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa with the hope that the girls might notice them.  About all that happened was that the Face of Everyman got tired of Paco standing on his face and asked him to leave.  With that, the boys went foraging for lunch.


Holy Moly thought Smedley this must be what an attack of Deja Vu feels like.  He was sure that he’d never been to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa and yet every object in this setting was familiar; right down to that handsomely carved chunk of basalt.  He was even sporting his bright Summer mating colors.  “Hey there old rock”, he called out.  “Where the heck am I?”  Alas, the Face of Everyman remained mute, as he is wont to do.  “S” flew South, never to return to that magical spot.

Marital Discord

Not all was peaches & cream at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.  the Face of Everyman was forced to witness much  marital discord.  Yardley had sworn that he had been looking for work.  Sybil had believed him until the Racing Form fell out of his pocket.  What to do?  She was already working two jobs.  Maybe they could skimp by if she cancelled satellite TV.