Today is the official Fool's Day.
It has become my sober belief that every day I wake is a fool's day, I just have to read the front page of the Times to get confirmation and the salient details.
This from Ms. Beatrice K. Otto's Fools are Everywhere:
"God is great, but you can have too much of a good thing- hence the Feast of Fools (festum stultorm or fete de fous) allowing an "ebullition of the natural lout beneath the cassock". The feast took place between Christmas and the Epiphany and was a literal interpretation of Luke's statement that those of low degree could be exalted and the mighty lowered for a while. They would give mock sermons or sermons joyeux, interlarding pious scriptural passages with ribaldry. During the feast clerics might wear glasses with orange peels for lenses or play dice, eat, drink, dance or burn things in the censer such as shoes or sausages or puddings."
The old orange-peel-glasses gag. Classic.
In other foolishness, we lost Basra despite whatever horseshit spin you may be reading. You know why? The Iraqi Army didn't know that the streets of Basra are too narrow for the tanks they drove down in.
The Iraqi Army didn't know that.
So, we're training those guys well, clearly.
Yeah.
It's really going well over there.
Another headline today:
Some Houses Worth Less than Their Copper Pipes
Which is like realizing that the most valuable things you own are the fillings in your teeth.
It's just going great out there.
Walsh had a great day yesterday, thanks to some good people and, of course, some very good medication. She may be retiring the Ms. Teapot 2008 crown today, ending her glorious reign as the Human Battering Ram, She Who Walks Sideways Through Doors.
They're going to take a look at it this afternoon and do what they think is best.
Answer to the Monday Morning Music Quiz is Number Four, sorry Rosie. The good Reverend and his band the Heat are as real as can be, but Baby's on Fire has yet to be written. Ann's got a good start to it, all bow to the Lampshade Queen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
9 comments:
I heard somewhere that Brazilians have sex on the altar during the Feast of Fools. Is that possible? Even in Brazil?
John, how are you? Is the cat fed, the whiskey bottle full, the tank narrow enough? Do you need anything? Please advise.
True story: between the time we moved into this house and sold Jim's old house it was broken into not once but TWICE for the copper pipes. Insurance company took it up the ass on that one.
I advised they look at it through orange peel glasses, it seems to help.
Dying for the Walsh update. It should be on the crawl on MSNBC...
Brazilians have sex on the altar every day of the week.
Have you ever seen a real live Brazilian?
Hot. Those people are hot.
Cat fed, whiskey bottle is half-full, praise god and the tank is what the tank is. Not my department.
Need to get a NY State driver's license, mine expired about eleven years ago, need to raise 25K for a show, need some home-cooking, need a copy of Sound of Music (Nan's favorite movie) and need Nancy back home.
Right now.
Nancy home.
Didn't work.
Need Barbara Eden in I Dream of Genie to be working for me, do the blink crossed arms thing, Nancy's home.
Other than that, I'm good.
Walsh is good. A good day. No more teapot.
Teapot is much loved, long live Queen Teapot. Well. At least we loved her while she lasted. Nancy is well loved, LONG LIVE QUEEN NANCY!!!
I can drive. Can't park for shit, but I can drive. And I can cook like nobody's business...
You want Sound of Music on DVD or those big old boxy things? Listen, if Nan wants Julie Andrews* at the hospital, I will make that happen.
Not sure I can get her home for you, John. Not until the white coats say she's ready.
About this $25k...how many hours of governor fucking is that, exactly?
Hang in there, John. You have my fierce love and admiration, and in a few days you'll actually have me. If nothing else, I'm good for a few laughs.
*just possibly not THE Julie Andrews. I'll do my best.
Rosie, Nan has dubbed the second splint The Teacup. Smaller, daintier, still full of tea.
T for "Take this fucking thing off me. Now.", I guess.
Just the DVD, Ann. Don't go kidnapping random people named Julie Andrews.
(Ann is crazy, people. Funny, sure, but crazy like a loon. Don't get her going. Is she reading this? She's behind me right now, right? IS SHE BEHIND ME?)
And it all depends on whom the governor is fucking, I suppose.
I wouldn't fuck either of them for less than 25K.
Unless, you know, dinner and all that...
Sure didn't mean to imply anything against the fine Brazilian people up there in the last comment. It's just, you know.
Those guys are hot.
But they only fuck on the altar during Carnivale, I'm told.
Unless they find each other particularly hot during Mass or a wedding or a Novena or something.
Then, well, forget about it.
hmmmm the flippin distance...its giving me a headache...or perhaps thats the whisky also?? (have to keep you company somehow John) Please tell Nan that I am disappointed that she feels the need to continue this race to the death with me, I am beginning to struggle to keep up, physical and mental health FINALLY are in check for once! YAY....hell I wish I was there right now, I feel the need to read books outloud to someone....
oh by the way...the G is me....GLENDA....oooh all the way over here in NZ.....X X X
Glinnie!
Good to hear from you.
Yeah, life stays interesting, don't it?
Post a Comment