Thursday, August 16, 2007

Ye Strang Talle Tale Regarding Dwarfes and a Lazy Gentelfellow

Ok, where have I been? Well, you see, it's a long story, and it all started a long time ago, when the critters were closer to the folks, and the folks were closer to the critters. It was long ago, like three weeks, and it goes a little something like this...

Once, there was a man. This man was a friend of mine; I mean, I knew him; I mean, ok, he was me. And this man, who was me, was harangued and harassed by his loving wife for being a slovenly and lazy bum. Now any self-respecting lazy bum of a man can only take so much haranguing and harassing before he has to get out of the house, and, somewhere between "Look at that grass! It's been so long since it was cut, I'm afraid the Viet Cong will come charging out of it!" and "When are you going to change this oil in this car! Black goo is oozing out of the tailpipe!" and "Is it too much to ask that a dish be picked up rather than kicked under the couch?", the poor man, who was me, couldn't take it any more, and announced in a voice that indicated quite clearly that, even if he didn't wear the pants around the house, he was not afraid to go out pantless, telling his wife, "That's it! I can't take this any more! I'm going bowling!"

But the usual bowling alley was in the middle of "Extreme! B-Owling! Night!", and the man knew that the music of Boston combined with strobe lights was a recipe for a migraine, so he headed on down the street to see if there was another bowling alley, or at least a curling course. It was then that the man, who, in case I haven't said it, was me, found a new bowling alley that he had never seen before, so he headed in. This bowling alley was obviously geared towards a very specific demographic (as should have been indicated by the abundance of handicap spaces outside), and there was no one bowling that night except dwarfs. "Hey, Godzilla!" the dwarfs yelled in greetings, "How's the weather up there?" The man thought about tossing a few dwarfs in retaliation, but then thought better of it, and instead stooped over to join the dwarfs in a game of bowling. But his feet didn't fit in the rental shoes (which all had 'Toy Story' on the sides anyhow) and his fingers didn't fit into the holes of the ball, and he decided that he didn't feel much like bowling anyhow. "Have a drink of our special home brew!" one of the dwarfs squeaked in his dwarfish voice, and he handed the man, who was me, a shot glass of some amber liquid that the man gulped down and almost tasted in the process.

"That might have been good," I, I mean, the man, said, "But I'll need another to tell for sure. In fact, make it a double. In fact, make it a quintuple."

The dwarfs all laughed at this, and proceeded to bring the man many more drinks of their special bowling alley home brew. Soon, after forty or fifty shot glasses of this drink, the man began to feel tired, and asked if he could lay his head down on one of the tiny, plastic bowling alley chairs and take a rest. Not waiting for the reply, and not caring that there were tiny pieces of Chiclet-sized gum stuck to the chair, the man dropped to his side (crushing several dwarfs in the process) and fell fast asleep.

20 years, uh, no, make that 20 days later...

When the man awoke, a great many years, uh, oh, days had passed, like 20. The bowling alley was gone, and the man was ashamed to see that he had been sleeping in an alley behind the "Sav-A-Lot" grocery store. Just as he awoke, a boy carrying a large turkey was walking past.

"Pray tell, young lad, what day is it?" the man yelled.

The boy carrying the turkey started to cry. "If you are a pervert, please don't violate me! I'm just taking this turkey home to my mother for our holiday dinner, and, since it is 6 months from the holidays, she was hoping to get a real good deal on it. And I don't know if we're late from last year's holidays or early for next year's, but-"

"Shut up!" the man yelled. "Shut your mouth about perverts and turkeys and tell me what day is it?"


The man rolled his eyes. "Ok, turkey boy, but what day of August is it?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know. Like the 15th, maybe?"

The man's eyes bugged out in comical surprise. "But, surely, that cannot be! It was only the 25th day of July when I was heading to the bowling alley, and now, here, many years-"

"Days," the boy corrected.

"-days have passed, and I am much confounded." The man rubbed his forehead to demonstrate his confounding. "Let me ask of you a few questions, just to know I am in the correct world. Of course, Karl Rove is still the closest advisor of President George W. Bush, correct?"

"Uh, no. He resigned."

"What?" The man's world rocked in confusion. "What? Turd-blossom! Not in the White House! The horror!! Yet I know this, by far the safest toys for children, they're made by Mattel, correct?"

"Uh, no. Those toys all got recalled for being painted with lead paint, and the head of the Chinese company that made them killed himself."

The man began to swoon. "But, surely, Jennifer Connolly is still the most beautiful woman on the planet, correct?"

The boy appeared quizzical. "Who?"

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" The man felt that a world where Jennifer Connolly was not the most beautiful woman on the Earth was not a world worth living in. But there was one thing, one thing only left, that could anchor the man, make him realize he was truly still connected with his life. "Tell me, good lad, the blog known as 'The Frogs and Their King', this is still the best place to find ignorant reviews of films the author has never seen, correct?"

The boy smiled so big his face hit the turkey. "Yeah, 'The Frog Blog'! It's the greatest site on the Internets! Love it! It's where I always go for any info on movies never seen! I wouldn't miss it! But, sadly, it hasn't been updated for almost 20 days! And the Internets, they are just a little dimmer because of that."

The man was so overjoyed that he knocked the boy over running home. Unfortunately, he had prepared himself for the sad news that his wife had died during his extended sleep. But, being that it had only been 20 days, she was actually just really pissed that he hadn't been home and immediately started to harangue and harass him that there were dishes that needed washed and bills needed paid and the dog needed his toenails cut, etc, etc, etc, et al, et al (as the French would say).

All of which the man promptly ignored and began preparing a brand spanking new post to the Frog Blog.

And that, my friends, is the true story of why it has been so long between posts.

'Nighty 'night, boys and girls. I promise a new review tomorrow.

(P.S. Sadly, the boy in the above story was ignorant and got all his ideas of attractive women from the tabloids and the copy of "Jugs" he had stolen from his dad's sock drawer, neither of which is a place you would find a woman of the beauty and refinement of Jennifer Connolly. So, when the boy said she was not the most beautiful woman in the world, he was sadly simply ignorant. Of course, in actuality, Jennifer Connolly was, is, and always will be the most beautiful woman in existence. Amen. And, until the boy chooses to embrace his education, he will alwasy be a poor nobody struggling for existance in a capitalistic world.)

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