Read My Lips - the blog

Blowout special going on right now in aisle 5

Well, if my dirty shirt bothers you tonight, blame it on the brain flat I have been trying to fix these last few hours. Trying to get my left cortex inflated to the point where I could think clearly again was an excruciating ordeal. You see, I don't simply have book full of these reports somewhere in my library where I can pluck something from the pages and lay it out here for your approval on a nightly basis. Nope, I make this stuff up on the fly.

I often mix a bit of reality into my imagination to come up with some surprising scenarios. Oft I am the one surprised at the reactions I get from these creations. I never expected the amount of concern received today about how my dogs were doing after devouring the UFO pork chop as was described in last night's NNGR™ . I'll admit, right here, that the closest that incident came to actually happening was when I was busily shoveling pork chop pieces into my mouth while watching a documentary on UFOs. UFOs are always described as saucer-shaped or cigar-shaped. I suddenly decided that it would be humorous to write something about pork chop-shaped UFOs. After further contemplation, much of which was done while surrounded by the warm glow of soft candlelight, soaking in a tub of hot water, the seeds of the story took shape. What finally popped out of my head was then edited and reedited and reedited and reedited again until it eventually became last night's report.

Tonight, regrettably, nothing as ingenious as UFO pork chops popped into mind. Stressing about my lack of topic, I strained too hard and blew out my left cortex. I have, as I previously stated, repaired the damage and am now thinking again. I'm just not thinking all that clearly as yet. Such makes this a bad time to have to tell you about the gag order issued against me today.

A judge has enjoined me from mentioning the name of a celebrity who is currently in the news on a daily basis. Despite the fact that the actual reasoning behind the order was suspect, Judge Dredd's countenance, alone, compels my compliance and I sit here in my pajamas unable to tell you of MJ: the magical essence of the House of Noel. I might mention my encounter with the little troll in an attempt to cross the bridge today and the riddle I had to answer in order to get his permission to cross:

What is white that once was black, and sang ABC to you and me?

This ain't him

I just cannot give the answer. I could not give it to the troll and I cannot give it to you. I won't bore you with the details of the 40 minute trek to the ferry I had to make so as to get across the river. As it turned out, I was too late to make my tour of Neverland.

Truthfully, I'd love to tell you what I know about that strange looking creature who loves to sleep naked with little boys. Now, though, I'll just have to save all those lies until I'm called to the stand to testify. I'll swear to tell my side of the story and only my side of the story, whether its true or not. Who says you can't learn nothing from listening to John Kerry.

My navel had not climbed on board with regard to this production, at all, until that swipe at John Kerry. In fact, my navel was inattentive to anything going on inside my head for most of today. It was, instead, busily marching around the entire perimeter of my Buddha belly carrying a placard reading Michael Jackson is a pedophile. The gag order does not cover actions concerning my navel. End of report.

Posted by Tiger at March 15, 2005 11:34 PM | TrackBack