Hadda go into San Francisco and spend the morning going over legal papers for, ahem, "Galatea Winery and Vineyards, L.L.C." Always a frisson when I'm there all lumpy in my farmer's garb as I sit in my lawyer's sleek skyscraper office. Anyway, whilst signing signing signing -- and being all grumpy about it because the promised bagel with cream cheese didn't appear -- I noted the need for business cards so that I can impress the hawks ever-circling over Galatea.
Moi: So what's my corporate title?
Lawyer: What do you want to be?
Well, Wall Street always had the most boring titles so after some thought:
Moi: THE EMPRESS!
Notary in the room: [stifled laughter]
Moi: Didn't like that? Well, what's actually my legal title in the company?
Moi: Are you serious?
Lawyer: Yes. Legally, you're either a member or a manager and you happen to be a member.
Moi: But shitski, Legal Peep. That is banal. Okay, how's about --
THE IMPERIAL CHATELAINE!
Lawyer [after sigh]: Your peeps will think you're just a fat bottle.
Moi [suddenly noticing her wine-plumped belly]: Okay --
THE IMPERIOUS CHATELAINE!
Lawyer [another long-suffering sigh...]
Moi: Okay. Let's make it simple. From hereon, I am the company's
And what does all of that have to do with Poetry, youse ask? Well, the "Chatelaine," I remind y'all, was something Moi concocted for the delectation of poetry blogland. And now it's a reality. Thus continuing my 1,000% batting average on writing things viz poetry ... that then become true!