Dear Rosey,
I'm writing this email especially 4 you. My day's been pretty
good so far, thank you for asking. But somehow it feels like it's one of those
days when there's more going on than meets the eye. Care to know more?
It starts at the beginning. I woke up, got out of bed at six and had some mixed nuts. What can I say, I needed my daily dose. I'm supposed to be on a diet but I was hungry
again… so hungry in fact I could've easily eaten an antelope and a big pickle stuffed right in the back entrance, pardon
my Greek. Or maybe just some pickles and tickles to make the experience extra special. But
I'm a lousy cook, so I'm afraid it would be more akin to poking a rock than stuffing a delicious roasted antelope
straight from this Canela Kitchen I've been hearing rumors about. It's like Hell's
Kitchen, only better.
I put on my red suede shoes and just as I was about to unlock the front
door and let my hunky blue jeans talk, here comes Mr Cat saying, "meow meow meow" (perfect
rhyme too) FOLLOWED by his buddy Penny, the smartest dog on the planet, or so Santa
claims. She looked at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes that seemed to be saying
in a very very smart way, "Blue Dude n' Stuff, don’t you worry about your
horrible hippo snoring or how it affects your love life. F*cklove, but never ever mock my turtle musings, you hear? Now go chase a rainbow instead. And don't say, 'OMG FML!' ever again. Why are you looking at me that way?
Don't youfollow?" Well, I think that's what she meant. She's
weird that way but the Cat loves her so much I've got no choice but to keep her
too even if I myself have an undisputed predilection for pussy cats and correct
grammar. But you don't go and ditch a black dog, now do you? Mr Cat would round up all of his ten
million or so his friends and cause a riot, kitties blazing guns, that kinda deal. Besides, how they met was pure serendipity so who am I to separate a doggie from her true
love? Anyhippo, I said goodbye to Mr Cat and Mrs Dog
and spent all day at the beach. Azurah Beach. Which is like Bora beach only the
water there's a deeper shade of blue. Just the way I like it.
Now, as I was tanning my blue skin, surrounded by
coconut trees and minding my own business, the strangest thing happened. My secretary
patched through an urgent phone call from a man named Fanny who, in a frenzy,
told me about this terrifying nightmare he'd been having about a Holy Ghost and a woman's poop cake. Really scary shit. He's been having some
seriously Dark Thoughts. Said in this dream he wanted to W.I.P. it and feel Young again. I think the woman's name was Janet or
Janie. Jackie? Joanne? I keep telling myself I need to get my statistical facts
straight (statistically speaking) nothing random either, but he was so upset,
sitting upright in his Fanny Bed and sweating, it was hard to make out what he
was saying. So the only advice I could give him was, "Woman, you really need to overcome this!" But then he said that's easier
said than done for in this particularly terrifying nightmare there was also
this humongous japing ape his grandparents had once told him about.
They said, "There's this ape that can speak like a true politician. A real
force to be reckoned with." But the way see it, that's just a myth. And Mythology is not my thing, unless you show me a whip aboard my rocket and tell me you insist. What is a fact, though, is the world will never be a
better place. It's all political. Starting in kindergarten, it's one big
political spectacle on so many levels. Speaking of which, Sandra, this new
friend of mine, told me about how she supports a merit day for politicians. I now do too.
At 6 p.m. I asked Captain Har to take his blue friend back home again via Manila, so now I'm sitting in my Sherry Garden pondering my true wanderings, my flaws, why I've never been No.#1 but Hank always is, and why this world isn't a better place. The
grumpy stuff. But I'm grateful for many things too. I have a roof over my head.
A private secretary. Friends with boats. One set of non-humphappy normal
neighbors. From where I'm sitting in the breeze, I can see normal neighbor 1
playing auction with her kids. I once heard it said she's got five men. Five? I'm not sure what that means, but she
seems all normal.
Well, Rosey, I've been tapping away on this piece
of plywood garbage for so long now, I think I'm gonna go and make myself all comfy on the good ole couch again. Not quite the same deal as Bora, but
I'm not complaining. It's all mine. But first I need to freshen myself up a
bit, and watch some TV. According to Mr TV Guide here, there's this Hollywood show at eleven (quote) "about penguins and
an army of spies trying to uncover the secret of some backlit keyboard
mystery"(unquote). A backlit keyboard mystery. I don't have a backlit
keyboard. Do you? I've got a flat one. I know this for a fact because I'm looking at
it. Why in the world did I buy it? Well, I suppose sometimes I'm such a derp. Other than that, it's all good.
Now excuse me while I end
today's ramblings from my typer, grab a beer or two
and take a very long shower. (I've run out of milk.)
Blue
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