YSaC, Vol. 970: Never interrupt Sparky when he is making a mistake.
Sometimes Dan and I slave over posts to get them just right. And other times …. well, other times our fabulous readers send us things that we can use pretty much wholesale. This is one of the latter times. Here, with very little editing, I present to you a submission by our very own Astro J. Nash.
Intelligence Report 4/19: French Prudential Front
Dear Llama-Nun,
Here is the latest intelligence in the War on Unsightly Syntax and Spelling (aka WUSS). As of this evening, I’ve intercepted some crucial intelligence which suggests that the French Prudential Regiment (you remember the French Prudential Regiment, right?) is on the move again.
Vintage French Prudential Chairs + Mirror – $500
I don’t have space to store them and they must go..
MAKE A REASONABLE OFFER- We’ll talk.
Call XXX-XXX-XXXX or XXX-XXX-XXXX
BJ
Anyhow, the French Prudential Regiment under General Sparky has, we believe, succeeded in infiltrating Italy. We base this belief on the following covert missive:
7-piece Bassett Italian Provential Bedroom Set – $800
Bassett Italian Provential, 1972
This was my mother’s very nice all wood Italian Provential bedroom set, purchased at the [location] Merchandise Mart.
It’s great quality and very cute!7-piece bedroom furniture includes:
Headboard (Full/Queen)
Two Bedside tables
Double dresser with Mirror, detached
Single dresser with Hutch, detached
Desk with chairFor more details email or call/text Ellen @ XXX.XXX.XXXX
We don’t know who or what “Ellen” is, but our spies are attempting to gain more information by monitoring correspondences between Generals Sparky and napolian.
painting of napolian – $75
Large painting of napolian moving must sell. XXX-XXX-XXXX
Sincerely,
Capn. Astro “Jailbait” Gnash
If only that were a large painting of “napolian” keeping still, I’d snap it up in an instant…
How can they tell “napolian” is moving? I don’t see a van, or a computer showing a CL ad for French Perventional furniture.
Capn Gnash, are there any reports on whether the peacock statue, and/or mirror, is haunted? If not, I’m not interested otherwise.
PS: A million adores to Astro for this report. This kind of intelligence is priceless these days.
Yes, yes, Astro…very well done indeed. I believe you have a future in covert (furniture) ops.
Capn Jailbait Gnash — I’m so proud, sniffle, sniffle. You are obviously the results of a good
RTPYSaC education. Keep up the good work!!!I’m sure that Neapolitan is moving if he says that he must sell that beautifully framed portrait of himself. Also, he doesn’t have space to store that beautiful French provisional furniture on St. Helena, and he’s tired of keeping it in a graffiti-covered storage facility.
I dunno…I think Janet Napolitano has some ‘splainin to do.
Silly Astro, that’s just a picture of some random person from the Napoli region of Italy. Hence, “Napolian,” which only makes sense since the French Prudential Regiment has invaded Italy. But I wouldn’t worry about it, Prime Minister Berlusconi will just send his vast legion of underage mistresses to the front lines to distract the regiment while he sends infantrymen around to their flank to pelt them with uncooked gnocci.
All of these answers are right. Especially Janet Napolitano. I pity da fool.
I have also always thought Dr. Phil has some ‘splainin to do.
Yes, but Loooo-cy has the most ‘splainin’ to do of all!
I don’t know what he wants for it, but I’d gladly take some of his famous desserts as a part of the deal.
The mirror is definitely haunted. Whenever I look into it, I see someone looking out at me! And they seem to copy everything I’m doing!
I believe the mirror was the property of the late Medusa. As you will notice, an unlucky bird was the last creature to use it.
Wait, that’s not a magical hawk, is it?
I keep staring, but so far Napolian has not moved. His eyes don’t even follow me around the room.
I think that is the infamous Pecilcock, you can tell by how much it admires it’s own size and rigidity.
Beautiful plumage.
Kudos to Mindfield for Monty Python parrot sketch reference
*falls over and crawls into the corner* Heh heh.. pecilcock admires rigidity…
Is it bad that I want the mirror? Even if it has Medusa effects, some of my birds need a time out.
You take the mirror, I’ll take the chairs. HamCan can have the graffiti.
Can you can can HamCan?
My Can can can can in Canada only.
The birds outside are yelling at me because I have run out of bird seed and don’t have money to buy more. π
Tell them I love them will you Windy?
Lara, I told them. They will be patient. But if you have any hay, dryer lint, cat fur, etc., place that near the feeder and they will keep busy taking it for nest building. 8)
Windy, I have a friend who sews a lot and this time of year she puts out her small sewing scraps and later on will see them occasionally woven into nests about her neighborhood. π
I always brush my cat out on the patio because there is less clean up and I know the birds can use it. I do the same with my hair on my brushes too. Sadly I don’t have scraps of cloth or anything cool to give them.
One of my greatest pleasures is watching the birds outside at the feeder and hearing them chirp. They actually inspired my final project for my Masters. I have male and female cardinals who come to see me regularly. They’re beautiful but a little bossy. I should name them.
Lara, I so envy you cardinals! Some day I will travel and see as many birds as I can. That don’t live with me. 8)
A word of caution about putting hair out, (unless it’s on fire, of course) it’s so fine and long, it easily wraps around tiny birdy toes and legs. Snip through it a few times with scissors to be safe.
OffT: I have a new blog post up, and it’s a short story.
Why am I posting this here?
I believe Mindfield has altered the way I pick names for my characters. Take a short story I wrote over a year ago, for Creative Writing. The main characters were named Tim, Joey, and Bubbles the Cannibal Clown. Now take this short story I wrote yesterday. The main characters are named Gup and Albrigol. So, there you go.
OnT: This is worse than I initially thought. The most recent intelligence confirms that the “Double dresser with Mirror, detached” positioned in front of the fireplace so can mean only one thing: The Italians now have Agent Claus hostage.
Time to send in the elves…..with attitude!
Can they be fabulous!
I am corrupting our youth! Splendid! This means that my plan is going according to … uh … plan.
Damn, I need to work on my evil banter.
I am saddened by the capture of Agent Claus though. He made a hell of a strudel.
Depending on the proclivities of his captors, he still might.
There ain’t no Sanity Clause (I hate hate HATE double negatives but I will give in when it comes to Chico)
No, but there is a Mrs. Claus….and an Escape Claus…and if Tim Allen keeps making lousy movies, I’m sure there’ll be yet another “claus” of some kind.
Are you sure about Mrs. Claus? I think Santa has a little secret that there are two Mr. Claus. I mean look at that outfit! It is way too fabulous.
A grown man who dresses exclusively in red velvet and ermine, with black leather accessories, and lives with a colony of festively dressed little people?
I see nothing wrong here.
Suddenly Santa sounds like he’s into S&M or bondage or both.
Somewhat-On-topic for your Off-topic: When I was working for my Dad (TacoFather is a veterinarian) a blue heeler dog came in with a giant gaping wound on his side from getting attacked by another dog. It had to granulate in because the skin sloughed off so he hung out with us for about three weeks. I was the only one he would tolerate to touch him; he tried to eat everyone else. His name was Gup.
/end topicness
Poor baby! At least he let you touch him. He obviously liked upside down dogs.
Am I the only one that thinks SisterLyle UpsideDown looks, when in the comment list at page right (and therefore small and less distinct), a bit like an owl? Of course, I came up with this on an undercaffeinated Monday, so it might just be me.
PS: I like owls. This is meant to be complimentary.
I can see that Lola. I like owls too.
Who?
WHO!
Now SisterLyle really is an owl! I giggled out loud when I first saw this!
I went for the most surprised looking owl I could find.
I have a distant cousin who goes by the Mindfield-worthy nickname of “Dump”. I have no idea why people call him that.
Oooh…OnT/OT…..
My youngest boy made friends with an Iranian refugee in high school. This kid has since become my third “son”, and since his past is too horrific to ‘splain I won’t.
Anyhoo…the kid has a name that, when properly pronounced, sounds like the symptoms of a nasty STD – like there’s any other kind?? – soooooo my boy gave him a nickname.
“Big Worm”
It stuck, and it was a conversation starter and icebreaker and he learned the language and made friends.
End OnT/OT
Given my actual name, I was most often called “Eric the Half a Bee.” There are worse things to be called than something from Monty Python. I’ve also been called “Eric the Red” and “Eric the Viking” before. As plays on names go I’ve had it pretty good. Of course, things I’ve been called that had nothing to do with my name weren’t so family-friendly.
My given name is mistaken for a man’s ALL the time…and my childhood nickname is reminiscent of a certain detective of Oriental descent.
CJ – My given name can also be a man’s name, especially the way I spell it.
NotAnywhereNeartheTopic (what was the topic?) – At an AA meeting that I go to regularly, we read stories from the AA book, about other folks who have are alcoholics who have gotten sober through AA. The other day, we read a story about a man who had been homeless that featured this line: “I wore a lice-infested, grimy Mexican poncho…”
It was very difficult not to ask if he had been a moose at the time.
π
Holy Schnikees! I don’t think I could have refrained…no, really…even given the setting…
Are you now, or have you ever been, a Poncho Moose?
OMG. No WAY would I have been able to refrain from such a comment.
Poor moose in ponchos, getting poked fun at even when mentioned in AA materials.
I love that owl Lyle!
My life has been altered this way too. I can no longer pick out useful fantasy names, instead I get: Brudalt, Grundula, and Fulbartram.
Damn you MF!
Me too…I used Wufflebottom just last week!
grumble, grumble, freaky-puppy, grumble, grumble…
That sounds like a name from Dickens!
THE VIRUS IS WORKING!I’m sorry to hear that.Uhm… VIRUS NOT ON FIRE! >.> not so much.
*Resists*
*Fails*
PUDDING NOT ON FIRE!
There it is. This fine fellow is the ever-elusive North Atlantic Pudding Bird. It’s distinctive call of warning doubles as a mating call, depending solely on the season in which it is used. Notice the bright plumage covering the breast and how closely it mimics the pattern of a fire when he extends his special air-sac, and how it contrasts with the chocolate-colored feathers that cover the remainder of his body. This one is a male and by the dancing display he puts on, he is trying hard to attract a mate. Let us watch and see if he is successful.
(To be read with the documentary accent of your choice. I suggest a smarmy David Attenborough.)
David Attenborough is not smarmy. He’s smooth. Like pudding. Cool, refrigerated, not-on-fire pudding.
Can the owl do the running man? This essential to finding a mate among owls
Attenborough is totally my zoological hero. I really want to get Life with him as the narrator. I think they’re finally releasing it in America with Attenborough. I was not amused when our choice was ‘Oprah.’ There is absolutely no comparison! /rant
The French PerventialThe French ProvidencialThe French PrudentialThe chairs at the top by the pensive peacock look like they were dyed with Blue Raspberry Kool-Aid.
Mmm, raspberry!
Is it wrong that I almost like them?
I kind of want them, too, for those days when I want to pretend my life is a Zsa Zsa Gabor movie.
I would worry a little about bugs though. Bed bugs and whatever bugs are hanging out where they are currently residing. Plus, it doesn’t look very sunny there. (Mind has kicked in to dumpster diving mode)
Green Acres is the place to be!
When I was growing up, we lived in a subdivision called Green Acres.
Here the bedbug concern is such that all mattresses placed at curb for garbage pickup must be plastic-wrapped regardless of the reason for their disposal. I imagine it may not be long before this edict extends to all soft furnishings, just to be on the safe side.
I do dumpster dive occasionally because I live in an area where people throw out nice stuff all of the time. I will not even try upholstered anything though. Outside or inside the dumpster.
Lola, just as long as you’re not trying to have a baby at 94…
So, how many degrees of separation (egg donor, artificial insemination, surrogate mother) do you get before you can’t really claim a baby as your own?
Her daughter is right, though, this is just weird.
I don’t want to be her, I just want set decoration from her acting gigs. 94 indeed. Yikes. Thanks for reminding me of that – I’d heard about it and then blotted it out.
Every time my faith in humanity starts to feel like it might be growing back, I’m provided more amunition to keep it down.
a) Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband sounds like an asshole from the way that article is worded and b) Zsa Zsa Gabor lost her mind a long long time ago. That is just awful, I mean even if she did manage to deliver a healthy kid, which is practically impossible, that child would grow up never really knowing it’s mother because she would probably be dead before it was able to remember anything.
OH, THE WOMANITY OF IT ALL…
I think you mean Wombmanity, Spacey.
Wombatity?
Wombatshit crazy?
Wombatshittery
I was going to suggest that they were upholstered with cotton candy, but that works, too.
I would not want to eat that cotton candy! I mean Sparky has been sitting on it!
To me the blue coloring looks a bit uneven, like something was applied over the original upholstery to cover up something. Smurf blood, maybe?
Hey, you try weaving cotton candy!
I tried it once. I failed miserably. I don’t know how those cotton candy spiders do it.
It’s all in their spidery wrists
Has anyone ever actually seen a blue raspberry?
I’ve seen blue berries before, but they were actual blueberries and not blue raspberries.
I blue a raspberry once.
::thbbbbbt::
No but I saw a blue orchid and it is freakin’ gorgeous but really expensive. My mom loves orchids. I am so good at being random.
I have seen a blue raspberry, but not in a legal state of mind.
Perhaps they belonged to Mrs. Peacock, who seemed to have a penchant for blue. Too bad she didn’t throw in the lead pipe.
You mean Mrs. Pecilcock, get it right.
I have been looking closely at that mirror and I think I see a pine tree and a detached head. This obviously means OH MY GOD IT’S IN MY HOUSE
A detached head??
In your house??
Okay, Lara, now it’s you who has some ‘splainin to do.
umm…well…there was this guy…and uh…LOOK ITS ELVIS!
You have Elvis’ head?
Cool. I bet it makes a nice lamp.
I think it’s actually a cheese dip display.
If you pull on the brain stem, does it play “Love Me Tender” like those wall-mounted fish?
Yes yes and yes. It is a cheese covered lamp that sings “Love Me Tender” I keep it next to my Lionel Ritchie dip head and my Lady GaGa Chia Pet.
“Elvis head” sounds quite a bit like a euphemism. Something on the order of peanut butter and bananas.
I like how the furniture is coordinated with the graffiti on the wall.
It is a nice touch, I wonder if Sparky wandered around looking for that shade.
You think he carried the furniture around till he found a wall with the right palette? I wouldn’t be surprised.
Or Sparky carried around matching spray paint and looked for a poorly guarded section of wall.
You know, Nappalleditan is wearing my University’s colors. I should dress like him for graduation. Sadly I have already bought my Masters duds and they were not cheap. I like to imagine the look on the face of the University president though when they hand me my diploma and I rear back on my horse for the photo.
Who was that masked graduate?
Napoleon is my favorite ice cream.
It’s my favorite way of preparing fruit.
OMG! I made it to the magic box! I didn’t know till my best friend called to congratulate me. I’m so proud. And thankful.
I’m grateful, Pliny (anyone who gets that reference has my adoration).
Elder or Younger? Or both?
Neither!!
It’s from a Bob and Ray routine. Pliny is the barber’s name.
Aaaahhh…here I was going with the statesmen of yore.
A barber works too but, I’m partial to Floyd – Andy’s barber.
As barbers go, I’m partial to Mr. Todd.
Well, if you listen to the routine,you will note a similarity between Pliny and Mr. Todd.
I’m thinking there is still room in the universe for a new musical:
Pliny Todd
Ah, yes…Pliny Todd…Sweeney’s younger brother. Poor Pliny, toiling away with rusty hedgeclippers in his brother’s shadow, until one day…….
(hint – tandem writing)
he discovered a map guiding him to the lost city of Atlantis!
Though he never had aspirations of being an explorer, Pliny Todd saw the unique opportunity that such a find might bring him. He immediately began planing an expidition, and using his entire life savings he bought just enough supplies so that he and his trusty…
water buffalo Marcus could make the long and perilous trek to Greater Manswich, where he could charter a vessel worthy of such an endeavour.
While scouring the docks for some really fresh mackerel sushi and a captain insane enough to attempt the trip, he came across…
a glass slipper, dropped the night before by some wanton damsel, with a label attached saying, “I’m really supposed to be made of fur.” Pliny tucked the slipper in his vest pocket, next to the 5 beans, single red rose, poisoned apple, and basket of goodies he had found earlier. Following a yellow brick road, he met up with a…
Cheshire cat, who said, “Come on, this way!” Pliny responded, “Where are we going?” “To see the king! I’m allowed to look at him, you know.” Pliny said, “But I’m not! I’m outta here!” and ran in the other direction, where he tripped and fell over a…
frog…sitting in the middle of the road.
“Ribbit”
“Excuse me, but can you point me to the castle?”
“Ribbit”
“Right…you’re a frog…I forgot.” Pliny said as dusting himself off he walked in the direction of what looked like a well-worn path.
“IIIIIIIIIIIII’mmmaa Yankee Doodle Dandeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”
Pliny stopped in his tracks. There was no mistaking where that had come from and he wheeled about to face the frog….
only to see the last webbed foot disappear down Marcus the Water Buffalo’s throat.
Pliny siezed the beast of burden, failing to move the several hundred pounds that consituted Marcus.
“You fool of a bovine! That frog could have been the key! Now … wait, what’s that?”
Bending over, Pliny pressed his ear to the indifferent animal’s belly. Faintly he heard the strains of ragtime singing.
“It’s not too late! I can …
…just as it was yanked unceremoniously off the road by the crook of a long wooden cane, the other end of which was concealed by an oversized shrub. How odd, Pliny thought before swiveling back around to continue his journey down the road. Or he would have if his path wasn’t unexpectedly blocked by a wiry, shifty-eyed…
EDIT: I never get these tandem writing responses in on time. Stupid keyboard full of bees.
…barker of the PT Barnum ilk
“I’ll give you back your water-buffalo, for a price.”
Pliny, knowing that there was still time as he could hear faint strains of “Ragtime Gal” coming from Marcus’ belly, had to think quick.
“Anything, I’ll pay anything!” He said, wringing his hands.
The barker’s eyes narrowed to slits…..
(to sarajean’s entry) keep hopping above the acid line. But be careful, there are some shifty characters being written in to this saga.”
A frisson of terror skidded down Pliny’s spine. He reached for Marcus, to lead the buffalo off the path, (and continue with Mindfield’s entry)
(to CJ’s entry)
…for he knew Pliny wasn’t about to pay, but he was too late. A deftly thrown poisoned apple had knocked his noggin.
Pliny grabbed Marcus by the scruff and hurried on down the path. When Pliny had figured they had distanced themselves far enough from Bob, the Barnum barker, he relaxed and began to consider how to save the ragtime frog.
Just then, he was accosted by a gigantic 6-armed starfish. Two arms as legs, two arms held akimbo, one as if a head and one more lay at his side. The last two he held outstretched.
An Australian ΚΔ±qqΙΙΉΙΉΗΚΙΗq was perched precariously upon his ponderous shoulder (the ‘other’ shoulder being unponderous having recently been regenerated).
The beaverrabbit’s large, flat fluffy tail draped across the giant’s torso in a sash-like fashion, with small black splotches resembling letters saying…
“Miss America, 2057”
2057??, thought Pliny, just where..or when am I??
Pliny was certain his calendar read 2011 this morning, and yet Ms. Beaverrabbit (Imelda to her friends) was wearing a sash with “2057” on it.
‘What year is it?” Pliny asked.
Ms. Beaverrabbit set her sights on the nearest tree and began to gnaw.
“Oh, I forgot, you’re a beaverrabbit.” Pliny said and turned, again, to leave with Marcus in tow.
“Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gaaaaaaaal…” Pliny could still hear the frog, faintly now, inside Marcus.
Suddenly Marcus let out a tremendous, and exceedingly smelly, belch. In doing so, the frog was expelled and lay there on the ground, covered in Marcus slime. It looked disgusting and dead.
It wasn’t though, as Pliny found out when he poked it with a stick and it jumped.
“Ribbit!” the frog protested.
“Oh, I’d thought you were a goner for sure!” Pliny was ecstatic, visions of stacks of hundred dollar bills dancing through his head. “C’mon, we’re off to see the Wizard!”
Little time passed before Pliny reached the Wizard’s office…of course he wasn’t really a wizard, but the way he was said to make millions for his clients, Pliny rather thought of him as a wizard.
The shingle hanging outside the office door read:
“Dewey, Cheatham and Howe, Attorneys at Law”
Pliny walked in, Marcus in tow and the slimy frog in his hands.
“Sir, sir?” the buxom receptionist said as Pliny walked past and straight into Mr. Dewey’s (his was the first one Pliny saw) office.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Dewey bellowed.
“Sir, I have a unique proposition for you.” Pliny replied, tying Marcus to the coat rack.
“What are you talking about?”
“I, sir, have a singing frog.” Pliny extended his arms, shoving the slimy frog nearly into Mr. Dewey’s face, it’s slime dripping on the papers he’d been working on.
Mr. Dewey picked up the phone, but Pliny raised a hand. “Wait, really, just wait.”
With that, Pliny plunked the frog on the desk and backed away.
“Ribbit”
“Sing, damn you!” Pliny exclaimed.
“Ribbit, ribbit”
“GET OUT!! AND TAKE THESE DISGUSTING CREATURES WITH YOU!!”
Pliny grabbed Marcus and ran out the door, leaving the frog on the desk.
As he got into the elevator – and believe me that wasn’t easy with a water buffalo- he could have sworn he heard…..“I’mmmmmmmmmmmmaa Yankeeeee Dooodle Dandeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
*Rushes in all bleary eyed*
Sorry guys, forgot to set my alarm last night and my more cranky backup alarm decided to sleep in until 9am (instead of waking up in his normal range of 6:45-7:30).
Also, sorry about the long weekend, my parents were over, so I took a few days off. But I’m here to snark! Here I go!
Uhh…
I’m not gonna raise peacocks, wouldn’t be prudent!
…
I need some coffee.
Ok so “single dresser with Hutch” has got me confused. Is it a weird form of rabbit clothing? or is it Hutch from Starsky and Hutch … and where has he been since that programme left the TV? answers on a postcard please to ….. me.
It was about that time those Duke boys showed up…
[Freeze frame]
[Waylon Jennings voiceover]
Now that Rosco’s got the boys against the wall, they’re gonna have to do some fast talkin’ to get outta this one. Let’s just hope he doesn’t know about the chickens.
I just assumed it was so you could keep your rabbit in the bedroom. Feel free to interpret that as referring to any type of rabbit you like. I’ll be in the corner.
…and the prize goes to ratwoman for the answer. It never occurred to me that you could get special furniture for those sort of rabbits … a discrete little (?) drawer does for mine. (ahem!)
Pssssst! I’m still excited about this! You’ll have to excuse the somewhat cruddy webcam pic I took last night, though. And yes, I’m wearing it to work today!
Squee!! Adorable! I got a CatMath t-shit and have about worn it out.
It’s neat to know people are wearing my art π
When I’m not busy-busy-busy I’ll draw something new. I was thinking of something without fuzzy animals this time, maybe Coffee Slices.
Coffee Slices mug!
^This.
And Taco could get one and type with it.
Taco typing with coffee slices mug = oooh, META! π
Yes! Coffee Slices Mug! π
Coffee slices and Fruity Oaty Bars. Not just for breakfast anymore.
*slips in quietly, sidles up to nearest snarker and throws arm around shoulders for a sideways, one-armed hug*
Hey…miss me?
*braces self for the high-pitched squees*
Squeeee!
****hugs****
OMG! Bridgete’s back!
Quick, lock her in the snark lounge so she can’t leave!
Wait, wait, wait! I have to go to work later! But I’ll come back, I promise!
Really, I will. I tend to work closing shifts these days so I can be here during the day. Although I have another job too, doing some stuff for a professor at my former law school, but I do most of that at home and I can take breaks…sort of like when I was studying for the bar.
We like breaks. 8)
Oui!
SSSSSSSSSQUE!
Squeee!
It occurred to me that you might not recognize my new sock puppet.
:waves to Bridgete:
Hi!
Oh hey! No, I didn’t recognize you. I was wondering why a newbie was squeeing for me.
Squeeee!
Also, I think you need to name your firm: “McAuley and Bees, Attorneys at Law.”
“McAuley and Bees, Attorneys at Law — we take the sting out of your commercial property tax bill.”
I really am starting a law firm (I wanted to start it sooner, but it’s a longer process than I’d hoped). But unless I associate with another lawyer whose last name is “Bees”, I’d get in trouble for violating…whatever ethics rule it is that governs firm names.
You could hire someone named Bees to be in charge of your firm’s obos.
I could change my name to Bees.
You could go into business with some bees. We’ve got extra.
The bees would have to be lawyers though, to avoid violating yet another ethics rule. Hey! Like in Bee Movie!
YES!!!
I almost hired someone to come
finddrag you from the nearest bar.SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
*continues CJ’s* SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!
*flails and fangirls all around the snark lounge*
*Gets the mop and bucket with a resigned sigh*
Hmm, Bridgete’s return reminded me… Is there anyone (else) here in the Baw-ston area? MrEB brought up the idea of me coming with him on one of his business trips there, but I’d need something to do during the day while he’s working :-p
Well I’m a few towns south of Boston. If it’s a weekend, I could meet people somewhere. (I work during the weekdays)
I’m in Southern New Hampshire, and could come to Boston in the evening or on a weekend.
And just where have you been, young lady? Do you have any idea what time it is? Well, we had dinner and put the goats to bed without you And we had pie. And there was a party. With hats and everything. And Patrick Stewart stopped by for some tea. And you missed it.
But we’re glad you’re home anyway.
I missed Patrick Stewart? Damn! π
[corey] a friend of mine is voice coaching Patrick Stewart at the RSC. Hell of a gig! [corey]
**attempts to squee**
**cannot as his throat is too sore from doing the Black Knight voice all day**
Yay! Bridgetttttttte’s back!
And her front, too!
The prodigal lawyer returneth! Welcome back!
Aww, thanks for all the squees and excitement! I missed you guys!
http://llamafont.com/llamafied/mu1
so now we know what you do all day ! xx
OT: Things heard on NPR on my drive home.
1. on BBC News, a woman named Nicole Champagne, but the way the announcer said it, I heard Nickle Champagne. Hmmmmm.
2. Also on BBC, interviewing John Poshname Huntingsomething, who said gold was a strong commodity now, but no one would advise you to get a shitload of gold. But with his accent it sounded soooooo delightful!
3. Okay, this was after I got home, and not on NPR, but my blind African Gray has learned to make kissing sounds. He’s so cute!
Awwwww
I used to have a gorgeous male French colleague and we used to get him to say “oranges ripened in the Mediterranean sun ” then we’d drool all over the office. Wonder if that’s why the company went bust? Oh, no, it was the PC revolution.
[corey] I think the above sentence came from an advert for Cointreau run in the UK back in the day [corey]
Five words: Ricardo Montalban, “rich Corinthian leather”.
So, Innana, divine goddess and so on, Punchity Punch Punch and stick around, will ya? 8)
G’Night, Elba!