A Mid-Summer Night's Ranting - july 99
by:  Dolomite

     Hello, readers of the one called Dolomite. It has been an odd time of late, especially between issues. Yet, the change was a surprise, for it was shown to me in a dream. Well, maybe it was more of the result of too many bowls of Uncle Smiley's Cornflakes with Chocolate Chips…

     There I am, sitting on a relaxing sound of the waves as they gently rolled onto the beach. As the trees swayed in the tropical winds, I couldn't help but feel as though there was something wrong, because my perversion prevents these types of dreams. Then I remembered that game people play when they are bored and at a party. They try to name ten books/movies that they would take with them if they were to be stuck on a tropical island. I always started out with porn and finished with Brian's Song. Yet in this dream, I only had sand and a few rocks. That was what was wrong.
     My fears soon were soon quelled. I saw a ship on the horizon approaching my islands. Initially, fearing the anal raping that would occur if this were to be a naval ship, I hesitated letting it spot me. As it came into sight, I saw that it was merely a small boat, powered only by oars. I then heard a voice as loud as thunder, "Hark Dolomite, a savior has came, as it was foretold." I quickly got on my knees and started to pray for forgiveness. As though he knew what I was thinking the voice boomed again, "No, not that type of savior." Questions arose in my mind quicker than scandals in a presidency. Who was this stranger? Why was he here? Could he make cats fly? "Dammit Dolomite! Enough with the flying cats! You have tried to put them into every Ranting since the fourth issue. I have caught most of them, but enough is enough," "Oh my goodness, you are the Almighty Daev, editor and owner of The Hold!"
     "That was a long time ago Dolomite. Now I have been reborn as Seaman Daev and Cait is in charge of The Hold. Peace be with you and Rant on." With that, Seaman Daev and his boat began to leave the island. However, when he was about twenty feet out, he turned back toward me, pulled out a grenade, and threw it while screaming "This one's for Vocab Boy you prick!!!" The grenade blew a hole in my island bigger than anything that Monica ever took on. As my island sank, I could hear Daev humming The Battle Hymn of the Republic. That was when I awoke to the sound of my alarm, which was strangely set on radio, and an AM station at that. I never listen to AM. Damn you Seaman Daev! Damn you and that obscene parrot on your shoulder both to the deepest darkest navy closet in the fleet!!!!!

Dolomite

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