Certain Other Facts

Petula Clark's "Downtown" has always been a Christmas song for me. It's unfailingly evocative of a mid-60s Christmas, for whatever reason. I can see the lights, and the shiny, stylized decorations, and the big downtown stores, with their magnificent old-fashioned air curtain doors that just invited you to walk inside.

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My mother bought Flaster a motorized ball that rolls about the floor. The thing is, this ball... It's in the form of a disembodied Sheepdog's head. I picture Flaster lopping off some poor Dog's head on the field of battle, then batting playfully at it as it rolls around making these 'grr grr grr' noises. Mom thinks that's funny too. It's really obvious that we're related sometimes.

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Lesser Known Facts of WWII. I love stuff like this!

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For some reason which remains mysterious even to me, it entertains me to refer to Hannah Montana as 'the Haitian Mutation'.

The Lemurs

I'm sort of revisiting various things that I've written over the years. This probably presages an outburst of writing, but I'm not really sure. At any rate, this is from a roleplaying game, a pastiche about a centaur who owns something that some lemurs covet:

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Once upon an evening boring, naught to do and nearly snoring,
Pond'ring whether I should make rice krispie treats, or s'mores,
Suddenly there came a zoofling, and the sound of small paws stealthily loosening
The hinges of my zinc-clad door.
"'Tis some Lemur", I grimbled, "covetting my zinc-clad door.
He shall not have it!" Thus I swore.

Oy Cretumbro! I remember, it was in the half-Octember,
When larcenous bands of Lemurs swarmed our land from hills to shore.
All not-nailed-down were they a'stealing? Silver, gold and gems appealing?
Nay! Zinc's what Lemurs covet, zinc's the thing that they adore!
That grey, cretumbrous metal that the Lemurs all long for -
Only zinc, and nothing more!

Anxious then I crossed my chamber, eager to confront the danger,
Lest gossips claim that Horselike, I did dwell without a door.
Throwing wide my zincy portal, I gave voice to a cry bzortal,
A challenge to the villain who was crouched there on the floor,
Unscrewing ev'ry hinge that did secure my zinc-clad door.
I took a breath. 'twas time to roar!

"Scoundrel!" cried I, "Rotten Lemur! You plot to steal my zincen portal!
Unhand you now my hinges! Get you forthwith from my door!"
"Gasp!" he gasped, his plan uncovered, turned around, then off kerschlundled,
Pausing but to snatch the gold hoofscraper from beside my door.
The solid-gold hoofscraper that had graced my zincen door.
The Lemur had it. How I swore!

I gave voice to threats most dire, and gave chase too, lest it transpire,
By a Lemur I'd be bested at the step of my front door.
Close behind I chased the villain, promising a painful killin',
He'd pay dear for that ornament that late had graced my door!
The solid gold hoofscraper that belonged at my front door,
He dropped and ran... T'was mine once more!

"Whew!", I whewed, with deep emotion, knowing it had been a close one,
But my solid gold hoofscraper reposed in my hand once more.
Returning to my domicile, 'twas then I 'scried that crime most vile!
'twas then I saw my entryway was not now as before.
Empty gaped the doorframe where had stood my zinc-clad door.
I had been duped. You bet I swore!

Turning then, I saw the Lemurs, kerschlundling on their Lemurs' femurs,
Trundling to the forest with the burden that they bore.
Too far away to think of chasing, my sole chance of their crime erasing:
Appealing to their honesty (though it never worked before...)
"Bring that back!" I shouted", "That's MY zinc-clad door!"
Quoth the Lemurs, "Not no more!"