Ray's Thought for the Day
Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck. I wonder if Barbara Bush the Younger got to ask the new Pope, what's his name, any stupid questions. Rayetta, do ye think Barbara Bush the Younger could come up with a stupid question er two fer that new Pope?
What Ray? Oh my goodness! Look at those rather smart high heeled boots she has on. I wonder if those were vended at Talbot's?
Er, Rayetta.............
Not now Ray. I must go visit with the GRC on the subtopic, high heeled boots. The GRC is well-known to be an expert on this subtopic and upon the subtopic, footgear in general.
Hmmph. Well nary a bye yer leave fer ye also, my busy sister.
Aha! My bosom companion Crumby has arrived on the scene. What are ye foretellin' fer the nonce, Ovate the Junior?
Ray! Quit spellin' me Junior. It aint dignified.
It aint?
Noper. It aint. It makes me appear, diminutive.
All righty then, The Crumby Ovate foretells whuts upcomin' fer the nonce.
That's better. Now, we are goin' to do some interestin, stuff today. First we need to run that Phaestoglochin achene ye found through the sedge buster gamut to ascertain its pedigree. Then ye or Lomo needs to go and purchase some dog biscuits. And Red is goin' to take the truck to get it inspected, fer that is an annual event ordained by government decree and never fails to lala Red off. And I, The Crumby Ovate may foretell anon on a certain bog related anthropological subtopic. And then too, Praise the Goddess, we have got to see Sugarplum and Sweetiepie off, fer they are returnin' to the Joke Factory, Praise the Goddess.
They are?
Yepper. Nancy is takin' them twain, both Sugarplum and Sweetiepie, back agin to her ample bosoms, Praise the Goddess, and Hope is gonna taxi over with 'em this evenin'. Ye can go along Ray. I foretell Nancy would like to see ye especially.
Er, maybe I won't do that.
Where's the LDR got off to Ray?
Hmmph. I suspect that Rayetta, her normal busy schedule interrupted by the drizzly conditions, has gone a shoe shoppin'.
Uh, oh.
Yepper. I hope she wears socks. If she don't that webbin' could spell a fuss.
Ha! Pity the poor shoe vendor that stares at Rayetta's toes.
Yepper. Hey Crumby. Do ye recall when ye could x-ray yer feet at the shoe store, nyuck, nyuck, nyuck?
Knuckleheads!
What Ray? Oh my goodness! Look at those rather smart high heeled boots she has on. I wonder if those were vended at Talbot's?
Er, Rayetta.............
Not now Ray. I must go visit with the GRC on the subtopic, high heeled boots. The GRC is well-known to be an expert on this subtopic and upon the subtopic, footgear in general.
Hmmph. Well nary a bye yer leave fer ye also, my busy sister.
Aha! My bosom companion Crumby has arrived on the scene. What are ye foretellin' fer the nonce, Ovate the Junior?
Ray! Quit spellin' me Junior. It aint dignified.
It aint?
Noper. It aint. It makes me appear, diminutive.
All righty then, The Crumby Ovate foretells whuts upcomin' fer the nonce.
That's better. Now, we are goin' to do some interestin, stuff today. First we need to run that Phaestoglochin achene ye found through the sedge buster gamut to ascertain its pedigree. Then ye or Lomo needs to go and purchase some dog biscuits. And Red is goin' to take the truck to get it inspected, fer that is an annual event ordained by government decree and never fails to lala Red off. And I, The Crumby Ovate may foretell anon on a certain bog related anthropological subtopic. And then too, Praise the Goddess, we have got to see Sugarplum and Sweetiepie off, fer they are returnin' to the Joke Factory, Praise the Goddess.
They are?
Yepper. Nancy is takin' them twain, both Sugarplum and Sweetiepie, back agin to her ample bosoms, Praise the Goddess, and Hope is gonna taxi over with 'em this evenin'. Ye can go along Ray. I foretell Nancy would like to see ye especially.
Er, maybe I won't do that.
Where's the LDR got off to Ray?
Hmmph. I suspect that Rayetta, her normal busy schedule interrupted by the drizzly conditions, has gone a shoe shoppin'.
Uh, oh.
Yepper. I hope she wears socks. If she don't that webbin' could spell a fuss.
Ha! Pity the poor shoe vendor that stares at Rayetta's toes.
Yepper. Hey Crumby. Do ye recall when ye could x-ray yer feet at the shoe store, nyuck, nyuck, nyuck?
Knuckleheads!
posted by ray pistrum at Friday, February 10, 2006
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