Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 4
Ray and Olwen 4
The swineherd kept as close tabs on Jezebel’s grave as his busy schedule would allow and when he couldn’t visit during the growing season, the swineherd would make sure one of his assistant swineherds, one trained up in the correct identification of Apiaceae (Umbelliferae) at early stages of their development would go and visit the grave. Then either the swineherd or one of the assistant swineherds would craftily weed all the carrots. Lo, three growing seasons passed in this fashion, but the cemetery bunch grew aggravated for during the course of the third year they were annoyed by many phone calls and letters and such from Jezebel’s widower’s minions who had been instructed to expedite the finding of a forked carrot on the grave. So finally one day the cemetery bunch decided enough was enough and here’s what they did. They had a meeting. And the head undertaker says, “ We are falling behind on our busy schedules and the stiffs are not getting all the attentions they deserve and the stiffs are not getting stowed as expeditiously as possible and all this is due to the constant pestering of us on account of forked carrots. So what we are going to do is, everyone is going to drop the stiffs they are working on at present and instead, everyone is to go about the countryside and find a forked carrot. Whosoever finds a forked carrot that we may plant on Jezebel’s grave, will receive a nice bonus.”
Then all the minions dropped whatever stiffs they were working on and proceeded to scour the countryside for forked carrots. They searched the farms and markets. They searched the highways and byways. They searched the alleys and refrigerators. But nowhere could they find a forked carrot. Finally though, one of them had an idea, “I bet they have forked carrots at Mall Wart.” So this young lady whose normal duty was painting up the stiffs went to the Mall Wart and sure enough, in the produce section, they had all manner of carrots, including a forked carrot or two. Plus, carrots were on special. So this clever young lady bagged up a forked carrot or two and gleefully made her way back to the mortuary.
“Ha!” She exclaimed upon her arrival, “Here I have a forked carrot or two. What’s my bonus?”
“Give them me.” exclaimed the head undertaker, for he was the one that had been most peppered by expedition requests. Then the head mortician, together with his most trusted stiff planter, a deaf mute hunchback, went out to the grave and planted the twain forked carrots. Now these two, the head mortician and the hunchback, had a special sign language they communicated with so the head mortician signed that the hunchback needed to stay at the grave and guard the forked carrots while he, the head mortician, went back to the mortuary to make a phone call.
Anon, when the hunchback thought everyone had forgotten about him, and it was growing less light, for the sun was setting, the mortician returned to Jezebel’s grave. With the head mortician was a lawyer/land broker and a gun thug and a photographer with a Polaroid. The photographer proceeded to take pictures of the forked carrots on Jezebel’s grave, and every one of the other participants pointing to the forked carrots and grinning at the Polaroid, thus providing photographic evidence of the necessary fulfillment of the pre-condition for Jezebel’s widowers second marriage.
The swineherd, partly concealed in his pickup behind a clump of Ligustrums adorning the cemetery fence line, thought to himself, “Oh well, that’s that.” Then after stowing his binoculars under the seat, the swineherd started the engine, shifted into first, admired the pretty picture on the steering knob and drove off to attend to his swine.
The swineherd kept as close tabs on Jezebel’s grave as his busy schedule would allow and when he couldn’t visit during the growing season, the swineherd would make sure one of his assistant swineherds, one trained up in the correct identification of Apiaceae (Umbelliferae) at early stages of their development would go and visit the grave. Then either the swineherd or one of the assistant swineherds would craftily weed all the carrots. Lo, three growing seasons passed in this fashion, but the cemetery bunch grew aggravated for during the course of the third year they were annoyed by many phone calls and letters and such from Jezebel’s widower’s minions who had been instructed to expedite the finding of a forked carrot on the grave. So finally one day the cemetery bunch decided enough was enough and here’s what they did. They had a meeting. And the head undertaker says, “ We are falling behind on our busy schedules and the stiffs are not getting all the attentions they deserve and the stiffs are not getting stowed as expeditiously as possible and all this is due to the constant pestering of us on account of forked carrots. So what we are going to do is, everyone is going to drop the stiffs they are working on at present and instead, everyone is to go about the countryside and find a forked carrot. Whosoever finds a forked carrot that we may plant on Jezebel’s grave, will receive a nice bonus.”
Then all the minions dropped whatever stiffs they were working on and proceeded to scour the countryside for forked carrots. They searched the farms and markets. They searched the highways and byways. They searched the alleys and refrigerators. But nowhere could they find a forked carrot. Finally though, one of them had an idea, “I bet they have forked carrots at Mall Wart.” So this young lady whose normal duty was painting up the stiffs went to the Mall Wart and sure enough, in the produce section, they had all manner of carrots, including a forked carrot or two. Plus, carrots were on special. So this clever young lady bagged up a forked carrot or two and gleefully made her way back to the mortuary.
“Ha!” She exclaimed upon her arrival, “Here I have a forked carrot or two. What’s my bonus?”
“Give them me.” exclaimed the head undertaker, for he was the one that had been most peppered by expedition requests. Then the head mortician, together with his most trusted stiff planter, a deaf mute hunchback, went out to the grave and planted the twain forked carrots. Now these two, the head mortician and the hunchback, had a special sign language they communicated with so the head mortician signed that the hunchback needed to stay at the grave and guard the forked carrots while he, the head mortician, went back to the mortuary to make a phone call.
Anon, when the hunchback thought everyone had forgotten about him, and it was growing less light, for the sun was setting, the mortician returned to Jezebel’s grave. With the head mortician was a lawyer/land broker and a gun thug and a photographer with a Polaroid. The photographer proceeded to take pictures of the forked carrots on Jezebel’s grave, and every one of the other participants pointing to the forked carrots and grinning at the Polaroid, thus providing photographic evidence of the necessary fulfillment of the pre-condition for Jezebel’s widowers second marriage.
The swineherd, partly concealed in his pickup behind a clump of Ligustrums adorning the cemetery fence line, thought to himself, “Oh well, that’s that.” Then after stowing his binoculars under the seat, the swineherd started the engine, shifted into first, admired the pretty picture on the steering knob and drove off to attend to his swine.
posted by ray pistrum at Saturday, March 18, 2006
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home