The Debutante Brawl: A Slain Beauty

Through the passing of the year aught six of our last, great century, tragedy struck a small town. Debra Finn was the beauty of six counties. She was the joy of her mother's springtime and the hearth that warmed her father's winter.

What floods and droughts, dastardly success and familial betrayal could not do, one evening of excited teenage revelry accomplished without remorse. While the details are scattered and sparse, it is remembered that jealousy rode in that night in the passenger seat of a cherry red Skylark convertible.

A storm of blonde hair, a tiara of vicious lightning, and brass knuckles over fish-netted evening gloves told a story of blood, bone and startling femininity. The town was undone. Debra lay slain; forgotten and lost. The Great Debutante Brawl of Aught Six cost us, forever, a greater jewel than ever was pulled from the ground.

Welcome!!

Welcome, one and all, to Debutante Brawl. This hallowed hall of bits and bytes will be, henceforth, the next and possibly last resting place of my tales and tidbits. I will attempt to post my drawings and paintings as they come into being. Wish me luck, kiss me on the cheek and pour a handful of bullets into my shirt pocket. Oh, and mind the girls. When these debutantes get all fancied up they get mighty defensive of their crowns.