Hey, Auntie. I started watching "The Conversation" last night but fell asleep about 10 minutes into it. I'm not saying it was boring, just that I was really tired and my couch is extremely comfortable. I'll try again tonight.
(Ok, you guys can go back to your rambling)
Better luck next ttim, Gus...maybe you were tired because of grief at the loss of your squid?
No Gautam - I prefer no intimate contact with monsters and dust bunnies.....
Are you a racist bunny, bunny? What is wrong with dust bunnies, why should they be shunned! I am deeply upset and disturbed, I thought I knew you...
Oh - I shall therefore, in future send you my dust bunnies. I am sure they will be happier in your loving care than in my Dyson - which is their Limbo at present.
Thank you Daggles! I WAS feeling bad about them....
I am certain they would not survive such journey, what a cruel and unusual thought!!!
In the victorian age, what is now referred to as dust bunnies was then known as slut's wool.
just an observation . . .
hey, i don't want any of that in MY mailbox!!!
Too late, Daggles - the current crop have been despatched......
I live in the eye of a fire storm. The mailbox is my dragon's jaw. Good luck to dem bunnies.
Slut's Wool, I love that band.
blatham
Actually laughing my head off! I have seen it before, but it's a good yarn. A fine example of Oz wit!
margo
I had never seen it previous to a brother passing it on. Normally, I don't even open email-forwarded joke thingeys. He knows that, so stuck this in the middle of a letter.
deb
You had bad experiences with midgets? One of my hometown buddies was quite dwarfish (4'6" at most). Like all of us, he changed through the years in both his appearance and wardrobe. He put on a bit of weight in his twenties and being a muscular guy anyway, he became quite swarthy in his shortness. Like the rest of us, he grew a beard and moustache. An outdoorsman, and balding, he wore an old beatup brown cowboy-style hat pretty much all the time.
One weekend, we loaded up three or four vehicles and headed out to the country to fish, drink, smoke tons of dope and mate. On our last evening as we sat around a fire, two other men, also fishing and also very drunk, came over to visit us. After twenty minutes or so of conversation, one of these guys blurted out to my dwarfish friend (at which point it became obvious he really wanted to say this since arriving)..."You look EXACTLY like Yosemite Sam!"
The lot of us convulsed. The thing was, he was right! It was an exact match! But because our short friend, like all of us, had changed so gradually over the years, none of us had even noticed that we had a cartoon character in our midst the whole time.
LOL!
I have only ever known 3 very short folk socially - and none was a midget or dwarf, in reality.
Two were twins - very funny and sort of a little depraved - always stoned or tripping or bourboned and such (without being horribly dull, as many folk who are always high are) - great fun to be with. Actually, I was very attracted to them, but could never decide which one I liked most - and it seemed wise to stick to one only - or at a time - so I never DID get round to doing anything about it... sigh.
One of them bought a super-bike - and we all assembled (outside one of the unis, as it happened - the boys were constant students) - to meet and greet the new beast, and be suitably impressed.
After a chorus of ooohs and aaaahs, the twin (Neil from memory) took off - only to be beset immediately by a red light. He put his foot out, as you do, to support the bike while he waited for the green. Sadly, his leg was so short that, by the time his foot rested on the ground, the bike was beyond its centre of gravity, and it fell, slowly and majestically, onto its side.
The whole group was paralyzed with embarrassment for him - but eventually we ran and extricated him - I am sure he managed to beat the problem somehow - (high-heeled riding boots were kind of in, if a little tacky, for guys) - but my eternal image of him is the grace with which he managed this humiliating situation.
Wherever the twins are, I wish them well.
I shall tell of Colin, the red-bearded dwarf, in a while....
THE VIEW FROM DOWN THERE
I wrote this for a dear short friend several years ago.
THE VIEW FROM DOWN THERE
By BumbleBeeBoogie
A petite woman, barely five feet tall,
Tired of all the ridiculous questions
About why she grew hardly at all
Despite their silly, impractical suggestions.
"Hey, Shorty, how's the weather down there?"
they asked with sneering, pompous poses.
My short friend gleefully did declare,
I see lots of hair in people's noses."
Those tall ninnies with brains not bright
Showed their manners to be uncouth,
Due no doubt to their excess height
And poor guidance in their youth.
BBB
A lovely little Burnsian thing, that.
I'm imagining a tribe, wandering, weaving a confused meander across the desert sands. I imagine burning feet, wailing youthful compainants and grumpy old aunts. I imagine this travail forty years in. I imagine the slow build of leader-doubt, the mumbling, the fractioning of certainties and loyalties, the endless sandal footfalls, and at every sharp 'snap' of a scorpion's spine the leader tensing, his eyes quickly swivelling back, pulse quickened. I imagine the sweat that drenches his sleeping blanket each night. I imagine one night, stars as bright as burning knifes, when he acknowledges that maybe he has fucked up on the directions thing. I imagine him climbing out of his wet blanket, heading over the big dune to take a ****. I imagine his lonliness. I imagine that he throws his head back, and silently, aims his deepest wish heavenward:
"Aunty Deb...please...anything...a tree or two in a clump...I mean, I'm not even asking infrastructure here...an old movie set, I don't care...please please point the way...any sign will do...you can give my mother in law a heart attack and whichever way her body points, I'll lead...SOMETHING! ...You said I should ask."
The huge arrow in the sand at your feet isn't enough? Oy veh!
