Saturday, August 21, 2010
As Ah Was Comin' Doon The Stair
Ah met a blog that wasnae there
It wasnae there agin' today
I wish tae hang it gaed away.
*knock*knock*knock*
"Hello?"
"Hi, I saw your sign outside."
"About the blog?"
"Yes. You found it lying in the street?"
"I did. Oh god please tell me it's yours and you've come to take it away."
"Well, it might be mine. I've been missing it for a while. Is it sort of ... difficult?"
"It is, and I'm so desperately sorry I ever laid eyes on it. If it's not yours, I'll give you $20 to take it off my hands. It's been in the bathtub for ten days now, drunk as a loon. I'm out of Cheetos and beer (which are the only things it'll eat) and it's now singing obscure songs in a broad Glaswegian accent. It's broken the computer, I think the cat's pregnant and the carpets will never recover."
"Oh man, that sounds like my blog. I'm so very, very sorry."
"It keeps going on and on about some lumberjack that it had a grand and gritty slam with in a Denny's in Portland, and how it won't tell the story until someone named Rabbitch comes back."
"Ah. Yes. That's my blog all right. I'm Rabbitch."
"Please, I beg of you ... I'll do anything ... take it back."
"All righty then. I'll take it, and thank you for rescuing it. I'm so sorry about the damage ... to the computer, the cat, the upholstery ..."
"Oh, fuck. The upholstery too?"
"I'm afraid so. Oh sweet FSM ... I do hope that most of this blood is yours."
"Blood?!?"
"Um. Nevermind. It's all good. I'll just kick down the bathroom door and put it in this sack and we'll be on our way. Thanks so much for the help. No, no really, you can keep your $20. I suspect that you'll need it for the repairs."
"REPAIRS?!"
"Uh, I meant for a haircut. I'll just kick down this door and put the blog in a sack and be on my way. Thanks so much for the help."
"You can't just ... Oh. Apparently you can. Bye, then ..."
Comments:
<< Home
I love this! The "non-postings" are as good as your postings. Nae ta worri; we be keeping the chair warm.
I suppose you could just tie up the sack and throw it in the ocean, but it sounds like it's made a valliant if vain attempt to drown itself. Might as well dry it off (in both senses) and see how it looks in the morning.
Have you ever heard the old Shelly Berman routine, "The Morning After the Night Before"? I thought so...
Have you ever heard the old Shelly Berman routine, "The Morning After the Night Before"? I thought so...
I so look forward to your postings (Yikes, what does that say about me???) I don't even miss the knitting/yarn stories!
this was classic- i was happy to see you return in your usual rare form, but then the cat entered the story, and my day was made-
many thanks-
barb in texas
many thanks-
barb in texas
But the blog came back the very next day.
The blog came back -- it shoulda been a goner
But the blog came back. It just wouldn't stay away.
Hope you brought a bat.
The blog came back -- it shoulda been a goner
But the blog came back. It just wouldn't stay away.
Hope you brought a bat.
I know this comment will disappoint you and make the blog laugh like a loon...
but this post brought a wee tear to me eye. That was the poem my Pop recited to me every night. And I'd lay there in bed, 5 years old, trying to figure the whole thing out and fall asleep.
(i was in Smitty's, there was also a guy named Beth involved, who was not Italian, but was about my height)
but this post brought a wee tear to me eye. That was the poem my Pop recited to me every night. And I'd lay there in bed, 5 years old, trying to figure the whole thing out and fall asleep.
(i was in Smitty's, there was also a guy named Beth involved, who was not Italian, but was about my height)
looks like you're stuck with the wee bastage, so feed it when life gives you time to. it obviously has great staying power and people who love its rascally self.
Post a Comment
<< Home