Heck Of A Guy

A pastiche of posts, featuring song, dance, snappy chatter plus notes on prose, poesy, love, lust, life, and beyond

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Anjani Writes Dear DrHGuy Letter

August 17th, 2006 at 9:42 am · DrHGuy · 1 Comment

Hey, That’s Not A Bad Way To Say Goodbye

From Anjani To DrHGuy

Dearest HGuy,
Being that you’ve already heard my voice AND seen me in my knickers* whereas images of you on your site are curiously (coyly? purposely? blessedly?) absent, I am at a slight disadvantage in imagining your participation in the admittedly remote possibility of a night of wild debauchery with Tina and Tanita.

In any case, although I am unable to return your fervent declarations of adoration, may I take this moment to express my appreciation for your stalwart efforts to mine the innermost chambers of your psyche for the entire world to peruse? Please consider setting these couth illuminations into a book that I feel sure would make for pleasurable bathtime reading.

And now, a word from the poet:
Note from LC: When you next write heckofaguy, please thank him for his strenuous efforts on my behalf.

And if you would offline, care to send me your snail mail address, the poet would like to send you his latest literary offering Book Of Longing, just to show there are no hard feelings over your reckless communiqué.

As Ever,
AT

*I refer to page 4 of the Blue Alert cd booklet.

From DrHGuy To Anjani

Anjanikins,

Well, there is a photo of me located at the bottom of Da Boyz Are Back In Town, although it doesn’t feature me in your knickers, as intriguing as that thought may be. I fear that visualizing me will not do much in stimulating your orgiastic visions. For that, you might be well advised to substitute the image of the Mesomorph, AKA My Younger Son, who is the family jock (although I suppose you should wait a few months for him to turn 18 lest you run afoul of the thought police).

And, as it turns out, I’m familiar with page 4 of the Blue Alert cd booklet, although my viewing has always focused almost exclusively on your implied domestic skills. [Note To Readers: No, I’m not going to scan page 4 into the blog. That kind of thing is a private matter between Anjani and me – and the hundreds of thousands of folks who own the CD. Buy your own darn copy.]

I’ve been to splitsville1 enough times to recognize a “Dear John/Dearest HGuy” letter, however gently and graciously written,2 when I see one. This is, however, the first such goodbye missive I’ve received that included a consolation prize3 (“Thanks for playing, and you’ll receive the home version of our game.”), which is a classy touch. The gift of The Book Of Longing is much appreciated. I’d reciprocate in kind, but I suppose the collection of erotic limericks I’ve composed while in the throes of dating, Terse Verse: Perverse & Worse, is inappropriate at this point.4

Although I lament surrendering the notion of the two of us being immortalized in Chelsea Hotel No. 3 (which would have, naturally, spun off its own sequel, starring you, Tina, Tanita, and me in Chelsea Hotel Suite, Nos. 4-6), it’s a simple calculation to determine that my relationship with you has been more fun, far sexier, and much, much less costly than my first marriage and a high percentage of Match.com trysts. It has been, in fact, a hoot (maybe a hoot and a half).

Besides, as a little time passes my version of our history will inevitably expand to encompass all manner of anatomically challenging, imagination boggling saturnalia.

So, tell The Poet that The Doctor says “Hey” and “Thanks.”

Finally, I hope you’ll always remember this about me — that you have a moral obligation, should you, Tina, and Tanita hook up, to invite me. I, of course, will be in contact with you immediately, should I get to them first.

You are a heck of a gal5

Fondly,
HGuy


____________________________

Anjani and Anjani Thomas: An Aside On Names
Anjani and Anjani Thomas are, for the purposes of the Heck of a Guy blog, synonymous names, both of which refer to the exotically lovely, dulcet-voiced singer best known for her Blue Alert CD and her long-term relationship with Leonard Cohen. I include this clarification on posts about Anjani-Anjani Thomas in part for the purpose of what the folks at Wikipedia call disambiguation (i.e., to positively identify for the reader and remove any doubts the reader might have about which Anjani of all the possible Anjanis is being discussed) and in part to aid and abet the search engines. While a rose is, famously, a rose is a rose, a “tea rose,” for example, is not exactly the same as a “rose” - especially to a search engine. Searches that include “Anjani” as part of the search terms may not produce the same results as the same search terms other with “Anjani Thomas” substituted for “Anjani.” Should any other Anjani, say one who has not produced a CD called “Blue Alert” or one who has not been associated with Leonard Cohen for the decade, I promise to do my best to make that identification clear as well.



Footnote

  1. I had assumed that no one has ever used “splitsville” outside an Archie & Jughead comic book, but Google gets 400,000 hits for the word. Go figure.
  2. It could be so much worse. There’s a country-western song with the instructive title, “Get Your Tongue Out Of My Mouth, Because I’m Kissing You Goodbye”
  3. I don’t think that residual tic over my left eye I’ve had since the ex-barrel racer and I broke up counts as a consolation prize
  4. Tell you what, I had put together, for another occasion, a batch of prizes that were, inexplicably, never claimed. Take your pick of the loot list at And The Winner Is …
  5. That’s official, by the way; I also own the heckofagal.com domain

Tags: Anjani Thomas

1 response so far ↓

  • 1 MindSpin // Aug 17, 2006 at 5:31 pm

    This has been quite the lark, even if you end up with The Book of Longing and not a famous blue raincoat for a prize. (Most of us serfs have to buy our own copies.) AT and LC doubtless know that you think they’re perfect together, as anybody who hears Blue Alert apprehends.

    And on Julie’s behalf, I’d just like to say that next time the collective decides to serenade the CEO of the Coca Cola company with a rendition of “I’d Like To Buy the World a Coke,” the rest of us will be accepting no excuses about your being above that sort of thing. Indeed, you may be performing solo in your knickers.