Dear Madame Zoltar

Hello, my darling little pansies. How are you? Warmer, then a little cold again, but then even a little warmer, a little longer . . . spring must be right around the corner. I can hardly wait. I have a few things I want to plant, permanently.

Our first messáge today comes from the delightful Ms. Beejay, who writes:

My vacation in Barbados!

Mdm Zoltar, why did you not warn me of the obstacles I was to face on this trip with three other women! Why did you not tell me I would be dancing like a teenager and acting the same way? That my room would be given to cricket players (and I thought they were bugs??? What is that about). And you did not tell me that the coach would keep his profession a secret and try to flirt with me. Had I known that, I would have killed the creep for stealing my deluxe garden view room and leaving me with what appeared to be an upgraded Motel 6 room! What did he do on the sheets that were supposed to be mine??? Ooooh, on second thought, I don't think I want to go visual!

And what the hell is cricket other than a bug??? Okay, so I had fun anyway...however, I was deprived of a cabana boy!

And now let me know if what my travel agent is hinting at is true? A free trip to another island with three people of my choice???

My dear Ms. Beejay, I’m so glad that you had a good time. I knew you would. I also knew that if I told you about the “obstacles,” it might ruin your trip. Of course, dancing and acting like a teenager is what vacations are all about, no? It’s only natural that men flirt with a babe like you. Too bad about the cabana boy. I’ll try to make it up to you next time with a hot, Latin lover.

As for cricket, I believe that you know a little more about that than you’re letting on, dear. You certainly know when something is not cricket, like an offer that sounds too good to be true. Or any offer that says “free.” I would check it out very carefully. And make sure they throw in a cabana boy this time. ;)

The next missive arrives from the esteemed Mr. SER, who writes:

Dear Madame Zoltar,

Belly button fuzz, rotten egg that make your “petie” hard, a mayor trying to hide out, global warming, people bust’in their ass when they fall and I don’t even wanna talk about those damn illegal aliens.

Now they don’t want me to cuss, well kiss my ass. A new president who cannot keep his promises, when will it all end.

Madame Zoltar, please send me the winning numbers for the lottery and I will treat all JTI bloggers to a party that will blow their socks off!

I know I have asked before, but the numbers just haven’t worked out...yet!

.........SER

I feel your pain, Mr. SER, literally. I channeled it. You are one of my favorite irregulars, you know. I am willing to oblige your request. Like last time, I must transmit the winning numbers to you telepathically in order to avoid possible interception by treacherous individuals. As of this blog’s post time, 4 AM, I will be transmitting the numbers to you throughout the course of the day. I have a sort of auto-dialer for brain wavelengths. All you need do is relax, clear you mind, and let the numbers seep in.

I’ll also expect the customary 10% donation of your winnings to Madame Zoltar’s School for the Psychically Challenged.

And here’s a prediction for everybody: the race for mayor in Racine is going to be more fun than the 4th of July. Just about as crowded, too. And definitely noisier.

Don’t forget, if you have a hot tip, an uneasy conscience, or a burning question, contact me at: madamezoltar@jtirregulars.com.

Soon those little buds will peek out of the ground and on a few shrubs. Then the cold will come along and nip some. Don’t get nipped – stay warm, kiddies. Thank you for reading my blog.