Welcome back to the Wannaskan Almanac. Back this week by unpopular demand...Mr. Hot Cocoa destroys the classics!
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small, unregarded yellow Sun. To the east was an area that was far more charted, fashionable, and unspiraling leg of a Ford Galaxy. It belonged to my son.
“I’ve been locked up for 264 days.” Fourteen days to flatten the curve my...uh...all of a sudden I am struggling to maintain our PG rating!
“Prague, early May. The sky weighed gray over fairy-tale rooftops, and all the world was watching.” Groundhog day in Prague was always a unique experience. The gray sky almost guaranteed that the little beast would not see his shadow, causing us to miss out on those sweet extra 6 months of cool temps. Why can't we celebrate in February like the rest of the world?
“The assassins dropped into the palace grounds at midnight, four fleet shadows dark against the wall. The fall was high, the ground was hard; they made no more sound on impact than the pattering of rain.” They watched as the chariot turned into a pumpkin...strangely engrossed in the transformation of the fabulous gown into tattered rags. Quickly they returned to their mission...the Prince would pay for his glass slipper infatuation.
“Once, in a house on Egypt street, there lived a rabbit who was made almost entirely of china.” Ah, this limerick doesn't rhyme. That is what happens when you make Egyptian lyrics in China.
“Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive.” This was the seventy-seventh argument. If only we could come to a consensus in the debate between maple and corn syrup. Or at least not have pancakes for breakfast anymore.
“I’ve always been competitive. Maybe it’s because I’m a dragon, and that’s how we are, at least the males of our species.” Girl dragons are not competitive. Not only would they never destroy a bridge...they won't even play bridge. Not competitive enough. It is why the lady dragon football league folded.
I'm with your wife on this one. You really should get your head injury checked out by a doctor. I know you think you're alright; feel okay, not hurt, not even bruised alongside your head there, but stranger things have happened to 'unhurt' people, one of them obviously being you. Sadly, you're not right in the head as this blog post attests.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure it's just temporary; your brain just got slopped around inside its container a little, like back in the ice hockey days of your Canadian youth and subsequent re-injuries to your cranium during hockey tournaments at various colleges on your way to becoming a highly regarded educator in the United States. It was nothing to shrug off when you were but a kid, eh; but you ain't no kid no more.
You can re-publish this one at a later date when you're head 's on straight. No one will know the wiser. Have the little woman drive you in, just to be safe.
Couldn't agree more!
ReplyDeleteMakes perfect sense to me. Han Solo's son, Mercedes Ben Solo, was cross-dressing just before entering the worm hole and had trouble with his G-string - theoretically - which became a blurring day of blood and starlight. Shattered, with only 1 window, 4 walls, 144 square feet of space, and 26 letters, the son of Timaeus was too much for Ptolomy's Gate, much less Eddie's rabbit or Abilene. In the end, you should ever expect much from mutant dragon-hunting yagis when Felix meets Nia. Did I miss anything?
ReplyDeleteTruly a generational thing that I can't fathom. But aye, Wednesday's Child makes sense of it seein' as he's yust a kid hissself.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteCall me Ishmael.
On second thought call me for dinner.