Always cognizant of the need to find comedy material for the DUmpster, I've been getting a little disturbed about some primitives who've provided much in the past, but for some reason don't seem to be around much anymore.
Chief S itting Bull, the bird-smacking stoned red-faced primitive, recently showed up on Skins's island with an inquiry to my fellow alum, but for the most part, the "Redstone" primitive's kept a low profile since the mid-term elections last year, when he shot off his mouth somewhere and got put into the hospital for his pains.
And Chief S itting Bull's been in and out of the hospital since then; so one can excuse his absence on medical grounds, I guess.
The subway cat, the "undergroundpanther" primitive, seems to have been missing for several months now; her last comments on Skins's island indicated she was going into that big building with small rooms and soft walls for a "short-term" stay, but surely several months is longer than "short-term."
Perhaps she's in there permanently, and denied access to the internet, which really is a good thing; she should've never been hanging around Skins's island in the first place.
The Las Vegas Leviathan, the "Systematic Chaos" primitive, appears to be alive and well, but is only rarely on Skins's island. He's back to posting on that one diet web-site, but is being left alone because thus far he hasn't interjected politics into his diet, such as blaming George Bush and evil Republicans for his having gotten up past a quarter of a ton in weightage.
But once he puts politics back into his travails, the Las Vegas Leviathan is fair game here again. And it's pretty much inevitable he's going to start blaming other people for his problems.
And then there's Pedro Picasso, the "Atman" primitive, who was asked by his employer, when first hired, to desist from hanging around Skins's island, as it might turn off some potential advertising clients. Pedro Picasso openly disobeyed the edict for a while, but apparently after he mentioned the mass-mailing firm once too many times, he's been silenced.
Either that, or he's on one of those vacations to the French Riviera or the Gold Coast or Biarritz or the Swiss Alps or Majorca or wherever it is the Rich and Beautiful hang out.
Finally, there's Mrs. Alfred Packer, the "hippywife" primitive, who said some weeks ago that she was busy with her earrings-business and keeping Wild Bill happy, but promised the other primitives she'd be back, to revive the sagging cobweb-infested cooking and baking forum.
That promise was the last Mrs. Alfred Packer was seen on Skins's island, and that was a while back.
One wonders if Wild Bill did in fact eat her.
