Friday, November 7, 2008

Need a Female Companion for World Travel - 28 (Denver)


Reply to: pers-871298429@craigslist.org [?]
Date: 2008-10-08, 1:19PM MDT


Hello ladies. My name is Anton Kimble Blackwater, and I am in need of a companion.
Though I have accomplished much in my life, and have trials still yet to overcome, I have become acutely aware in the late hours of the night of a challenge I have not yet confronted, namely the matter of my legacy. Thus, I am seeking a female companion to accompany me on my sojourns throughout the world.
But first, about me:
I was born to a wealthy American rubber magnate of the Old New England stock and a Spanish wet nurse, twenty-eight years ago in the little Iberian village of Sacanza. Oh, to see my father talk of my mother, how his cheeks flushed and his eyes alighted with adoration in recalling their star-crossed romance... but that is a story for another time. Alas, she did not survive my birth, though her spirit accompanies me always.
Childhood was a halcyon time. Summers I spent riding horses in the Andalusian hills. I wintered with my tutor, the wise and venerable savant known only as Hanno from the gnostic college of Alexandria, in the dune-swept expenses of Tunisia, following caravan trails of Berber merchants and Ba'hai mystics. My father could not bear to leave Spain and the place of my mother's burial, so I would not see the land of my ancestors - America - well into my adult life.
At age nine tragedy struck. My father, while ballooning to Zurich, was killed in a fall resulting from an accident of suspicious origins. My father, you see, had sired another child with a West Indian Mulatto during his idle years as a poet in the Americas. This hellish woman had tried everything in her power to obtain his seed and thus produce a son who would one day inherit his fortune, and when seduction and blackmail proved ineffective, she had my father
ingeniously drugged. She had her way with him, and in nine months my half-brother Cecil was born. Under his mother's tutelage, and exposed at a young age to the anathema rites of the voodoo churches, my half-brother grew to be a wicked man. Even at so young an age, I suspected he had a hand in my father's baffling death.
My suspicions proved warranted when, in a series of devastating maneuvers, many of my father's assets were suddenly seized. That which Cecil could not claim legally he took by force, using bands of mercenaries comprised of such low-blooded, half-caste mongrels as former members of the Kenyan Mau Mau, the Tamil Tigers, and various Creole street gangs. Fearing for my life, my father's most loyal servants smuggled me through Cecil's dragnet. I was given to a kindly Basque family, where I was raised as a peasant to hide my true identity from my half-brother's murderous intentions.
At sixteen, nostalgic for my old North African haunts, I joined the French Foreign Legion. If I may re-purpose a phrase once stated about the Royal Navy, the legion was little more than wine, sodomy, and the lash. After many adventures, and many friendships made and lost, I was discharged and left to make my own way in this world, my Basque parents having been killed in one of the bombings typical to that region. Luckily, I had Hanno's wisdom and my hereditary aspects about me, and within a few years I ran a successful charity, a multi-national company, had written two novels, and had triumphantly quested for relics of arcane lore, the values of which are beyond estimation.
I am seeking a woman of similar interests - travel, adventure, and the mysteries of antiquity. If we should happen to meet on a "date" please understand there will be a third party, my man Mandalay. I found him begging on the streets of Mumbai, hawking nubile slum-girls to decadent tourists for a guinea a piece. Being five years his senior, I adopted him and raised him in the tradition of the Gurkha mystics. He will not leave my side, even for such an intimate occasion as a "date" - something that, while overbearing, has saved my life many times over. I think you will find Mandalay to be a severe but mirthful man - he tells an Assam parable about a monkey, a tiger, and a fig tree that leaves me in stitches every time I hear it. Any woman responding to this post should be a wealthy heiress of verifiable Anglo-Saxon ancestry, skilled in the martial arts, the occult, cryptoarcheology, and international finance. Tactical expertise in helping me reclaim my birthright from half-brother Cecil a plus! Please, no fatties.






  • Location: Denver
  • it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 871298429

No comments: