Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County:
The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce retired in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at The Buddy Mutts Café, with three-year-old Clara Wembley at his side, since they won’t let you into Buddy Mutts without a dog, and in the process of borrowing Shingles from the Wembleys, he had somehow acquired Clara, since she still has not forgiven Shingles for stealing her blankie on Christmas eve of 2009, and doesn’t let him out of her sight, for fear that some good thing might happen to him, and also because the presence of Clara and Shingles would keep anyone from sitting with him, since everyone in Periwinkle County knows that where Clara and Shingles are, some good thing is not likely to happen, and if someone sat with him, he would lose points in the Hermudgeon of the Year competition, hermudgeon being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, when Ella Phant, the chairwoman of the PC GOP came in with her dog Flipflop, which has one fuchsia eye and one azure eye, and slipped into the booth across from him.
“Big day for you tomorrow,” said Randall, “what with the presidential primary, and all.”
“Yes, and we have to get the Santorum theory proved by tomorrow so everyone will know how to vote,” said Ella Phant. “That’s why Tippi Kanew, and Tyler, too, her son, are here to set up the dominoes.”
Just then Tippi Kanew, and Tyler, too, came in and started setting up a row of dominoes on the floor.
“The Santorum theory says that if you give people more freedom it always leads to something worse,” explained Ella Phant. “For instance, if gay marriage becomes legal, it will lead to legalized marriage with animals, just like one domino falls and hits the next one in line and eventually they all go down.”
“I thought marriage to animals was already legal,” said Gladys Freely, from the next booth, watching her husband, Moose, slurp his coffee.
“But Dean Ray Davis of The College of Arminianism over at Hope’s Promise University in Crimson County says that the domino theory works in the other direction, that if you give people more freedom, better things always happen,” said Randall.
Just then Bessie Bandervilt passed by the window, wearing her fur hat, the one with the taxidermied form of Sampson, her late squirrel companion, on her head. Shingles saw it and bolted for the door, right through the middle of all the dominoes Tippi Kanew, and Tyler, too, had set up on the floor, causing them to start falling in all directions at once.
“I think Shingles just disproved the domino theory, Clara, and proved chaos theory,” said The Rev. Dr. Nathan.
“I thought chaos theory is something in science, not that there’s anything right with that,” said Ella Phant.
“No, it’s about humans,” said Randall. “Give people freedom, or take it away, either way, it leads to chaos. People aren’t any more able to handle freedom than a dead squirrel.”
“We should turn freedom over to the dogs then,” said Clara, looking out the window. “Shingles is handling that dead squirrel pretty well.”
***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.
[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years, can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]
{If you would like to receive PC or CIW by email, let me know at jmcfarland1721@charter.net, and I’ll put you on the list.}
Monday, February 27, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
A Song Too Far
Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County:
The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce "retired" in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at "The Cupid’s Bottomless Cup Coffee Shop and Romance Remainders Outlet" with a CD of "Newt’s Favorite Love Songs" on the table in front of him, to keep anyone from sitting with him, lest he lose points in the Hermudgeon of the Year competition, hermudgeon being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, when Roy A. Kuff, the country singing legend, came in and slipped into the booth across from him.
“I thought you were dead,” Randall Nathan said.
“No, I know I’m not. I looked me up on that ‘Who’s Dead and Who’s Not’ site on the Google. And since I ain’t dead, I’m gonna ask Miss Maserati Oxford, the famous game show guest, to marry me.”
“That sounds like a proper Valentine’s Day thing to do, but isn’t she too young for you? After all, you must be pretty old by now.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m along about 90 or thereabouts, according to the Google. She’s only 78. It’s a November-December romance. But those can work. Look at Newt and his next intern. I even wrote a song especially for Miss Maserati Oxford for Valentine’s Day.”
He tuned up his air guitar and began to sing.
“If you was a cockroach, I wouldn’t stomp on you. I’d let you eat my garbage until your face was blue, and that’s how much I’m loving you, hoo hoo hoooo.”
He yodeled on the last line. A pig got up and slowly walked away. Roy A. Kuff did not notice.
“If you was a hornet, I’d let you sting my nose. When it got real big and sneezy I’d give it to you like a rose, and that’s how much I’m loving you, de doodle doodle hoooo.”
Shingles the dog began to howl. Three-year-old Clara Wembley put her hands over his ears, which surprised everyone, since Clara still has not forgiven Shingles for stealing her blankie on Christmas eve of 2009 and thus her usual approach to Shingles’ troubles is schadenfreude. Roy A. Kuff did not notice.
“If you was a hooker I’d let you tow my truck, and when we got to the junkyard …”
At that point The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan accidentally spilled his cup of Moose Drool Supreme right onto the strings of Roy A. Kuff’s air guitar. As he told Claire about it later, he said, “Even on Valentine’s Day, sometimes you just have to take a stand against romance.”
***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.
[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years,” can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]
{If you would like to receive PC or CIW by email, let me know at jmcfarland1721@charter.net, and I’ll put you on the list.}
The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce "retired" in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at "The Cupid’s Bottomless Cup Coffee Shop and Romance Remainders Outlet" with a CD of "Newt’s Favorite Love Songs" on the table in front of him, to keep anyone from sitting with him, lest he lose points in the Hermudgeon of the Year competition, hermudgeon being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, when Roy A. Kuff, the country singing legend, came in and slipped into the booth across from him.
“I thought you were dead,” Randall Nathan said.
“No, I know I’m not. I looked me up on that ‘Who’s Dead and Who’s Not’ site on the Google. And since I ain’t dead, I’m gonna ask Miss Maserati Oxford, the famous game show guest, to marry me.”
“That sounds like a proper Valentine’s Day thing to do, but isn’t she too young for you? After all, you must be pretty old by now.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m along about 90 or thereabouts, according to the Google. She’s only 78. It’s a November-December romance. But those can work. Look at Newt and his next intern. I even wrote a song especially for Miss Maserati Oxford for Valentine’s Day.”
He tuned up his air guitar and began to sing.
“If you was a cockroach, I wouldn’t stomp on you. I’d let you eat my garbage until your face was blue, and that’s how much I’m loving you, hoo hoo hoooo.”
He yodeled on the last line. A pig got up and slowly walked away. Roy A. Kuff did not notice.
“If you was a hornet, I’d let you sting my nose. When it got real big and sneezy I’d give it to you like a rose, and that’s how much I’m loving you, de doodle doodle hoooo.”
Shingles the dog began to howl. Three-year-old Clara Wembley put her hands over his ears, which surprised everyone, since Clara still has not forgiven Shingles for stealing her blankie on Christmas eve of 2009 and thus her usual approach to Shingles’ troubles is schadenfreude. Roy A. Kuff did not notice.
“If you was a hooker I’d let you tow my truck, and when we got to the junkyard …”
At that point The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan accidentally spilled his cup of Moose Drool Supreme right onto the strings of Roy A. Kuff’s air guitar. As he told Claire about it later, he said, “Even on Valentine’s Day, sometimes you just have to take a stand against romance.”
***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.
[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years,” can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]
{If you would like to receive PC or CIW by email, let me know at jmcfarland1721@charter.net, and I’ll put you on the list.}
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