Bistro Bijou

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It's just a little gathering space. The bar is stocked, the menu is appealing, the atmosphere is welcoming.


The Entertainment
Song and Dance
Wednesday is Ladies' Night
With your host, Mr. Grant

The décor
A little Nouveau Some Modern And a bit Classical

The Ambiance
A bit Moulin Rouge, A little Algonquin and perhaps a little of Rick's Place

The Saloon's in the back. Poker games are in progress. No spittin', no fightin'.
Here's our bouncer. And there might be other rooms. Just ask our charming Hostess.

All are welcome. See the Radio Free Jezebel thread for a selection of what's on the jukebox, and feel free to play your own set.

Be sure to visit CHEFZILLA'S KITCHEN for the latest recipes and menu items created by our fabulous bistro chef, Anschul.

Another bistro regular has also opened her own kitchen, filled with recipes as poetic as they are tasty. Stop by ANGE'S KITCHEN for recipes and some great writing!

What'll ya have?

bijou

*** ETA:
To make things easier to find in the Bistro, I will update Notes on the Fridge regularly.

Here are a few little survey questions, just for grins. Poets are encouraged to answer in their Own Special Way.

http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=25678326&postcount=42
http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=25705655&postcount=95
http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=25733912&postcount=128
http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=26172824&postcount=801
Questions about Booze and Dionysios
Make your own Hot and Sweaty List


About your Poetry Mom
The Bistro Fridge
The Bistro Fridge Continued
Another Fridge
And Yet Another Fridge
Fridge, Summer 2008
Another Fridge


The Johnny Depp Facts Meme! Feel free to add your own.

Leg-Humping Hall of Fame
http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=25663976&postcount=32
And another
Encore. Et pui encore.
Ange humps her husband's leg

Current Fridge Poetry Challenges:
The Taste of Absinthe
Rope Bondage
Possums!
Testicular poetry
Poetry that cures pneumonia

BISTRO HISTORICAL ARCHIVES
A few parties that got out of control, and some menu items:
February hootenanny
Menu for cold weather
PandoraGlitters' Creme Caramel
Tristesse's summary of the Bistro
Bistro Shoe Fetish party
Happy Valentine's Day
UnderYourSpell and RhymeSmith wrestle in olive oil for charity
A seriously powerful, meaningful discussion about pain, abuse, poetry and kink begins right about here and goes on for a few pages. This truly is one compassionate, insightful pack of deviants. (quoted from Sassynyc). Here as a companion is a link to an interesting website about the concept of Highly Sensitive People

OP's Personal Pick: for a smorgasboard of Friday Night Shenanigans, read pages 18-20: Testicular poetry, booby poetry, spankings, a new fridge, True Confessions, nipples, bisexual orgy poems and carburetors as marital aids!

How Sara, the Grand Nymph of Nymphomania, Met her Evil Grand Vizier, and What Happened After That. Including a Pie Fight.


OUR FIRST REVIEW

There is a world and a lovetime of support in this Bistro. It's like you get an appetizer of flirt in a sexy sauce, followed by a course of common sense with affection on the side. Dessert comes on a platter of morality and comfort served with an aperitif of promise. It doesn't cost much to dine here, it's affordable to anyone with a poem in their pocket and a need for company.

- Champagne
 
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Phew! For a minute there, I thought our host was:

lou_grant.jpg


Very nice place you have here. I'll have a Yeats on the rocks. A welcome home poem for your cat.

THE CAT AND THE MOON

The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet,
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion,
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase.
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon
His changing eyes.

:kiss:
 
LOL! No, not that mr. Grant.

A Yeats... that's Irish whiskey with a shot of cough syrup, right?

I read the poem to the cat. He purred.

He lost a little weight, but he's managed to gain it all back already....

welcome, darlin'.

this reminds me that at some point I'm hoping to have a poetry slam here...

bj
 
LOL! No, not that mr. Grant.

A Yeats... that's Irish whiskey with a shot of cough syrup, right?

I read the poem to the cat. He purred.

He lost a little weight, but he's managed to gain it all back already....

welcome, darlin'.

this reminds me that at some point I'm hoping to have a poetry slam here...

bj

It's Jamison's with an absinthe chaser. (No, not that Jamison, although a shot of Jamison with some Champagne on the side takes on a whole new meaning here. :devil:
 
it was pretty good. Hubby took us to see NAtional Treasure 2 and we had a killer dinner at the Longhorn, went shopping and worked s some overtime, too. I love my freaking job, lol. I am officialy a pipe wench now, lol.

found out today, we are going to Louisiana next, for 14 months. I have never been cross the MIssissippi, so it will be an adventure :)

Thanks for asking :)

I dont get much time in here, so I do appreciate your warm welcome

:rose:

oh, tequila straight, no salt, no lime, no chase

ahhhh....that hits the spot


I think BJ needs to have a drink here called a Pipe Wench. :kiss:

<Ok, ee is calling me. Ahem. I'd love to stay, but...>
 
hmmm. a Pipe Wench.

Probably ought to have tequila in it, I suspect.

I'm not the queen of tequila - it's sort of like poison to swedes. i always tell people that unless they would like to either bail me out or take me to an emergency room, they need to not be givin' me tequila.

but perhaps a dinner menu item. The Pipe Wench - several shots of tequila accompanied by homemade tortilla chips and mango chipotle salsa?

served by a handsome man in a serape?

eta: Ange, lovely to see you. and that Champagne and Jamison thing is so wrong I have the vapors now.


bj
 
hmmm. a Pipe Wench.

Probably ought to have tequila in it, I suspect.

I'm not the queen of tequila - it's sort of like poison to swedes. i always tell people that unless they would like to either bail me out or take me to an emergency room, they need to not be givin' me tequila.

but perhaps a dinner menu item. The Pipe Wench - several shots of tequila accompanied by homemade tortilla chips and mango chipotle salsa?

served by a handsome man in a serape?

eta: Ange, lovely to see you. and that Champagne and Jamison thing is so wrong I have the vapors now.


bj
How about a neo-bubbly-neurotic? It wraps itself up in angst and pretends to be erotic while all the time, like any well-heeled OCD, washing its hands.

I listened to some Oscar
and mourned the jazz piano
in smoky haze while just one
whiskey sours forgotten
the empty tip glass waits
until sexy suit leans in to
share sandalwood
and patchouli just outside
my reckoning until recognized
the invitation accepted
and the bar is no more
beyond the light we dance.
 
Hey darlin'!

I'm currently typing up your Prologue. *evil grin*

Neo - Bubbly Neurotic:

2 drams absinthe
1/2 bottle of fine champagne
dash grenadine

pour the absinthe and the champagne over ice and one sugar cube. Allow the grendadine to infuse slowly, drop by drop into the glass.

Garnish with a fuschia orchid and a very phallic strawberry.
 
Hey darlin'!

I'm currently typing up your Prologue. *evil grin*

Neo - Bubbly Neurotic:

2 drams absinthe
1/2 bottle of fine champagne
dash grenadine

pour the absinthe and the champagne over ice and one sugar cube. Allow the grendadine to infuse slowly, drop by drop into the glass.

Garnish with a fuschia orchid and a very phallic strawberry.
If you take a prologue and mate it with a poem, do you get an epilogue? Maybe I'll tell you about hymen sundering and passion learned in one thrust... or maybe one fall... or when push comes to shove I think they'll land in the same place.

All I know is that I won't kick nj out of bed for eating tortilla chips, especially if she brings Juan dressed in a serape and limes...
 
If you take a prologue and mate it with a poem, do you get an epilogue? Maybe I'll tell you about hymen sundering and passion learned in one thrust... or maybe one fall... or when push comes to shove I think they'll land in the same place.

All I know is that I won't kick nj out of bed for eating tortilla chips, especially if she brings Juan dressed in a serape and limes...

Actually, I think what you'd get there is a Greek Chorus. Or maybe prosodomy charges.

I'm thinking about the various ways Juan might be wearing the limes.

"Sundering" is a fine word. Underused. Like "athwart." That's my favorite preposition. Thrust, push, shove, fall... whatever gets the job done, that's my thinking.

I must tell you, I'm even less proud of your Prologue than I was of the whole idea to begin with, as well as the manifestation. Deeply ashamed, as I said. But I keep my promises...

bj
 
How about a neo-bubbly-neurotic? It wraps itself up in angst and pretends to be erotic while all the time, like any well-heeled OCD, washing its hands.

I listened to some Oscar
and mourned the jazz piano
in smoky haze while just one
whiskey sours forgotten
the empty tip glass waits
until sexy suit leans in to
share sandalwood
and patchouli just outside
my reckoning until recognized
the invitation accepted
and the bar is no more
beyond the light we dance.


Piano rolls through stride
and boogie, bop and dissonance,
flatted fifths, vapors of a world
gone Jazz
at the Philharmonic.
Black and white in rhythm.
Bean and Mulligan Stew.
Flathat cats and minor keys
four, four brushed on hi hats,
brass vibrato, tenor moans,
gut bucket vamps, the call,
response Sir Oscar gone
to join the royalty
where gates swing with Pops
and Duke, Prez and Arvil, little jazz
and all those sophisticated ladies,
songbirds in silk and gardenias.
Listen: a sailboat in the moonlight
trailing past the stars.

7208c58d-570c-4e33-ad7d-927f8ce22871_ms.jpeg
 
I like this idea though... and I mean, WTF? Virgins have their day everyday until they're fucked. As to fucking -- some get that sooner than later and I'm betting that some even get it when they're right beside the starboard thwart... bumpin' against the dock... waves slappin' --

Oh dear.
 
I like this idea though... and I mean, WTF? Virgins have their day everyday until they're fucked. As to fucking -- some get that sooner than later and I'm betting that some even get it when they're right beside the starboard thwart... bumpin' against the dock... waves slappin' --

Oh dear.

*giggle* another neo-bubbly, darlin'?

bj
 
This made me laugh since it's close to my heart .. I have a pig valve where my aortic used to be.

pigvalve.gif
 
I have wasted hours and hours and hours and hours here.

Here's what got me hooked.

Lovely to see you, darlin. Be sure to take some aspirin for that hangover...
I'm off to cause trouble.

bj
 
How about a neo-bubbly-neurotic? It wraps itself up in angst and pretends to be erotic while all the time, like any well-heeled OCD, washing its hands.

I listened to some Oscar
and mourned the jazz piano
in smoky haze while just one
whiskey sours forgotten
the empty tip glass waits
until sexy suit leans in to
share sandalwood
and patchouli just outside
my reckoning until recognized
the invitation accepted
and the bar is no more
beyond the light we dance.
That sounds like me poured over ice. ;)
 
Lubrication, STAT!

Flirtatious narcissistic prigs often get free drinks at this particular bistro.

Lotta smart, understimulated women around here...

bj
Aw, what a shame. Understimulation makes everything dry out and I can't work with that.

Rx:
Whateva gets bijou wet
take PO q.i.d.
 
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