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Old 04-29-2009, 07:18 PM
Joe21 Joe21 is offline
MR Perfidity - Clemson Insider
Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: Clemson, SC
Posts: 4,930
Default Revised History

(Notice -- for mature audiences only)

History was not one of my favorites in my younger days. Bits and pieces stirred a little interest but on the whole it was old stuff that did not appeal to me. In my later years my views changed, particularly, when I realized my younger years were now history. I also noticed some present day writers were depicting some long ago events in an entirely different light than what I had been taught. That thought ignited a spark in my old noggin and I began to look at history in a different prospective. Egyptian history, with all of the Pharaohs, the mummies, the Ramses, the fabled Nile River and other historical points of interest, captured my fancy.

As I glanced through the various topics re Egyptian history, the great love story of Mark Antony and Cleopatra seemed to jump to the forefront. A little background history of this famous affair plus reading between the lines revealed some little known facts that should not be concealed from the eyes of the public. Permit me to share with you some things I discovered from my perusal of several volumes of Egyptian history.

Antony was not Mark's real surname. Apparently his name was misspelled in the translation to English and his surname was, in fact, Anatomy. This is verified by his love and admiration for the human body, particularly those of the opposite sex. Further verification of his interest in anatomy can be found in the many literary publications in his files relating to the human body. For example, he was a regular subscriber to "Noughties of the Nile", "Cairo Cuties", "Darlings of the Nile Delta", "Desert Desserts" and a host of similar literary publications.

Cleo was a rare beauty that few red-blooded Egyptian young men could resist. She was endowed with pulchritude which oozed out of every conceivable place on her georgeous body. Cleo did have one peculiar habit, she was very fond of serpents, her preference being the asp.

Mark received the latest issue of "Noughties of the Nile" on Tuesday morning way back in BC. He turned to the centerfold and, lo and behold, there was Cleo in a very provocative pose exuding a whole lot of pulchritude. Mark's eyes jumped to attention as he remarked, "boy, that's what I call a hottie". His mind shifted into high gear and he decided to send a message to Cleo asking if he could drop by for a chat. Cleo's response was immediate and was an emphatic, "yes". Mark splashed a few drops of musk oil on his body, threw on his clothes, jumped on his old faithful donkey and off he rode to Cleo's abode.

Cleo's doorbell was on the fritz so Mark called out to Cleo that he had arrived. Cleo rushed downstairs, threw open the big oaken door and invited Mark into the great room. Mark was so stunned by her beauty and all of that pulchritude, the only words he could mutter was, WOW !!! Cleo gave him a sweet smile and ushered him into the great room. Cleo rang for a servant who brought them a bowl of grapes and a goatskin of her best wine. As they relaxed on the camel hides sipping wine and eating peeled grapes, it was obvious the two were becoming great friends. Mark was ogling all that pilchritude and wishing he could lay his hands on something when he reared back and said, "I've got to go home and feed my goat herd and donkeys". As he rose to leave, he asked Cleo if he could see her again. Cleo suggested he meet her early the next morning where her boat was moored on the river and they would cruise the Nile. Furthermore, she would have the servants prepare lots of food so they could have a fantailgate.

Mark was on Cloud Nine. He jumped on his donkey, old Sagbelly, and sped back to his bungalow, eagerly anticipating a day on the Nile with Cleo. Mark finished his chores, had dinner and retired to his goatskin bed soon after sundown. Sleep did not come easy as he lay there thinking about tomorrow and having all of that pulchitude do close to him with no idea of what would transpire.

Finally, the rooster announced by his crowing that the big day had arrived. Mark arose, took a cold shower and selected his best toga for what he envisioned was to be the most important day of his life. This was it !!! The day of reckoning !!!! Mark jumed astride old Sagbelly and headed for the river front where he was to meet Cleo. Arriving at the river front, Mark spots Cleo and again is struck speechless by her beauty and all of that pulchritude. He's sitting there on his donkey when Cleo says, "get off your ass and come on down to the boat". And he did. They board this fancy boat and prepare for a leisurely day on the Nile. Cleo moves to the front of the boat and reclines on a mountain of plush pillows. Mark takes a seat nearby where he can gaze upon every bit of Cleo, his view unimpeded by even the slighest shadow. Cleo assumes a very relaxed attitude, emphasizing all of that lovely pulchritude. Meanwhile, Mark is doing some reckless eyeballing and says. "Cleo, you have a cute little asp". Cleo responds, "you ain't seen nothing yet" to which Mark responds, "I ain't". Mark is panting so hard it creates a jet stream that propels the boat at a very high speed. Cleo likes the high speed and concocts a plan to get the boat going at an even faster rate of speed. She asks Mark to come closer. As Cleo giggles and wiggles, Mark inches his way toward Cleo until he is finally in her embrace. She whispers into his ear, "you can have anything you want". Mark, in his haste to get to the boat that morning, had neglected to eat breakfast and was very hungry. Mark whispered tenderly into Cleo's ear, "I sure would like to have a couple of those grapes you've been nibbling on all day". Cleo bolted upright and it was apparent she was mad as all get out. She instructed her servants to kick his asp overboard, and they did. Poor ole Mark. All that pulchritude there for the plucking and all was lost because of two little grapes.

Hundreds of years later, an American writer selected a title for his book that could easily define Mark Anatomy's fate, "The Grapes of Wrath".

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