Rancho Tarzanadu: "Miss Linda, the (Secret) Author of 'Overlord L'Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen'"

     Miss Linda was feeling nervous lately, like someone or something was watching her. It could be anyone or anything, really, at any time. But she would not be dissuaded from expressing her convictions! She appreciated a challenge. Maybe it was just her very strong marijuana gummies that were making her a little more jumpy and jittery than usual? Maybe she should switch to an Indica strain for a while? But, man! She was a productive stoner! F*ck “The Man”, if he was watching, with his (or her, or their) singular fixated eyeball. She had bigger fish to fry, without worrying about such nonsense. What would “The Man” do with her anyway, even if he were watching her every move? Capture her? Interrogate then dismember her like the Overlord L’Orange approved murder of Jamal Khashoggi, the Saudi Arabian journalist who sought exile in the United States and ended up dead instead? Miss Linda suddenly glanced over her shoulder, then went downstairs to mix a strong vodka-and-lemonade, or what she liked to call her “health tonic”. She (knock on wood) had not suffered from a cold or flu virus in years.

     She must move on to the task of interviewing boarders to keep Rancho Tarzanadu (her inherited family home) afloat, which was no small feat. Living with other people was tricky, at best. Especially for a natural introvert like Miss Linda. But having fun and enjoying her time in this plane of existence was important, too. She definitely knew what she didn’t want: first and foremost, NO REPULLICANS. No explanations or excuses. Her motto was: Don’t say it, do it. The prospective boarders must have jobs, of course, or an income from some source (she was not opposed to all things deemed “illegal” by “The Man”). She knew she did not want to live with someone boring, especially considering that most people wanted to drone on and on about what they do. So their profession would have to be something Miss Linda wanted to know more about, like Mysticism or Esoterica. Psychology was interesting. Maybe an Anthropologist? Or an Astronomer? An astronaut would be really fun and interesting to have around, especially for cocktail parties, which Miss Linda was really fond of. She also loved dressing up as an Astronaut’s Wife, although she had zero interest in being an actual wife, even of an astronaut. A magician or puppet master might be fun to live with. Although a personal chef would be the best thing. Maybe the closet underneath the stairwell could be cleared out and rented as a room? Oops! She forgot that room was to be occupied by Little Johnny, the Child Savant. It might be worth renting a personal chef an actual room in exchange for all meals prepared. She would have to contemplate that. If Manuel moved into the main house with her, she could rent out the guest house he’d been living in for double what she could get for a single room in the main house. A gardener would come in handy, also, especially since Manuel did absolutely nothing but wander aimlessly around in his satin maroon smoking jacket, with a beer in one hand, seemingly attempting to escape his inner demons in a perpetually meandering fashion. Always so much to do at Rancho Tarzanadu! Maybe she could find a husband and wife (or husband and husband, or wife and wife) team to garden and cook, and they could share a room? Brilliant! She had always wanted an organic vegetable garden, but so far hadn’t the time or inclination to get out there and make it happen herself. She would much prefer that someone else did that, and then she could just enjoy the delicious goodness of their gardening and culinary talents, and get on with her other important projects, which were more ethereal in nature.

     Before she did one more thing, however, she must sit her ass down and write another installment of “Overlord L’Orange: Observations of an Average Citizen”, her weekly political diatribe on the current ruler of this beautiful f*cked-up country of ours. Miss Linda was appalled by the state of her nation, and felt compelled to share her views and opinions with the world at large. Apparently though, not many had seen her posts, if her algorhythms on blogspot were accurate. But no matter! She would carry on. It would be her contribution to society, in lieu of tossing her jury summons notices in the trash bin, claiming she had never received them in the first place. This would be her way of giving back. For posterity’s sake. As one of her college English professors had said about his own work: “I’m writing for one hundred years from now, not for the people of my time in history; my work will live on, and in so doing, will make me immortal!” Miss Linda thought about a story she had just read, “The Last Question” by Isaac Asimov, which stated that “forever” probably didn’t exist. The entropy would eat everything in its path, gobbling it down its black, bottomless hole. So her work may not live on forever; she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. The new Chaos Magick group she just joined on the Discord app may have a solution to entropy and the lack of forever, anyway. She was wild-guessing they might.

     After running through all of the things she had to get done in her mind, she had forgotten all about “The Man” watching her (even though he was), and just got on with what she needed to get on about: interviewing boarders (income she did not report on her tax forms on April 15^th) and working on her political diatribe, come what may. Miss Linda was much more inclined to risk than to complacency. Little did she know that “The Man” (or “The Wo-man”) would be interviewing as a potential boarder soon, right in her own backyard while enjoying tea and finger sandwiches, having seen her public ad posted in her Facebook “Notes” section.