By Larry Flesler

The 4th of July traditionally starts the Summer for me and thus I am taking a week off from my get fit routine and heading to my cottage. I’ll try to get in a little exercise but can make no promises regarding my diet (on the way here, I bought 3 pounds of Canadian bacon, a case of Coffee Crisp and a 12 cases of Labatt Ice).

I like to get an early start and head up to my cottage at Waverly Beach in Canada. Stu and Marie arrived last night and we unpacked while sharing a pitcher of Southern Comfort Manhattans. We laughed and reminisced about vacations past and were even able to get in a little slap and tickle.

Stu said he was so busy at work that he missed his bikini wax appointment and asked if I would be able to help. I jumped at the chance and Marie even offered to hold him down and stroke his forehead as I went to town with the hot wax and shaver.  Stu has a low threshold for pain so Marie stuck a red ball in his mouth to keep the screaming down. I did an adequate job but he still might look like he’s wearing a sweater-thong under his speedos.

At the cottage, Stu and I share a twin bed while Marie sleeps on the couch (although last night Marie joined us for a devil’s triangle after polishing off the remaining Southern Comfort).

We had a little interruption when my 92-year-old neighbor knocked on the door to welcome me back. I invited her in but she declined. It could have been the way I was dressed: my 4-inch stiletto heels, fishnet stockings and leather chaps may have surprised her.

Sweet lady, though.  I had a summer fling with her last year at the end of my stay.  It started when we were gardening and I tripped over a patio paver and toppled onto her. As I helped her up her sundress had fallen to her waist. She was topless and her accordion like breasts hit me in the leg.  I was instantly smitten. We rolled around in the herb garden for quite some time. I lost two things in the garden that night: my watch and my dignity.

I will try to share more details about my vacation over the next week as more guests come and go.

By Larry Flesler

-I had it all wrong. I pushed my son into sports, paid for expensive conditioning camps, nutrition supplements, private training and sent his game tapes to college coaches, hoping all the while he would make it big someday.  I should have just ate his dog.

-I must confess that whenever I walk my dog, I carry a plastic bag pre-loaded with a rock. When my dog does his business, I pull the bag out of my pocket and pretend to grab the steaming mess. I then walk the rest of the way with the bag weighed down with the rock while my neighbor’s lawn looks like a carnival for maggots.

-I have The Gout for the third time this month, my Doctor said it may be related to my diet of scallops, bacon wrapped sticks of butter and Genny Cream Ale.

-I hate Clowns.

-I’m getting the hang of my new cell phone. I just got a lesson in ’sexting’ from my old friend Marie Rice.

-The passing of Bea Arthur hit me especially hard. We went to Junior College at the same time and met while playing football. I was a sparsely used punter and running back, Bea was a terrific lineman with a mean streak. She would use the forearm shiver, clothesline and leg whip at will. She always came up with the ball after a fumble. She would grab or bite anything under a pile scrambling for a loose ball, I have an imprint of her dental work on my coin purse to prove it.

-Godspeed Beatrice.