It’s Polar Bear Season. Let’s go play in the sleet!!!!
Ray!
What?
Let’s go out and play in the sleet. Come on Ray! Whee! Let’s go.
No.
All righty then. Come on Olwen. We ladies shall leave old Ray to his cubby hole.
Yes we shall, Hope. But first we should give him some advice. Ray you should stop that moping in your cubby hole. Bye.
Bye twain beautiful girlfriends.
Ray!
What?
Why aren’t you out with your pretty twain girlfriends, faunching around in the sleet?
I’m thinking, Rayetta.
Hmmm. All righty then. Well Crumby, Lleu Llaw, Lomo and me, are all headed outside. You should come out of that cubby hole, Ray. The fresh, bracing air and sleet should perk you up.
I told you Rayetta, I’m thinking.
All righty then. Bye now sulky baby brother Ray.
Bye Rayetta.
Ray!
What?
Hep me outside. Ye need to hep me outside so I can mosey around in the dern sleet awhile. Being old and feeble these days, I need a young man like yerself to prop me up lest I slip on the sleet.
Red, I’m already busy, thinking.
Ye are too busy to aid a poor old ovate like myself? Er, ye know Ray, an old ovate like me may not get many more chances to play in the sleet. And what if I wander out there into this terrible blizzard without a young man such as yerself to hep me? Why I could wander off and bust my hip. Then after awhile ye might be the one to espy my poor old frozen bones sticking up out of the sleet.
Right Red. You are obviously right that I would probably be the one to find your old bones. All righty then. Let’s head on out.
Ray assists the feeble, aged senior ovate down the dusty hallways and on out into the general direction of the pecan orchard where all the rest of the Druids, with the possible exception of Raymone, are faunching around merrily.
What were ye thinking on Ray?
Well Red, I have spelled some pretty mean spells on the weather robot. But this time the weather robot almost got it right. So I have been thinking about whether I should apologize to the weather robot.
Ray, ye need to leave ovation to the ovates. But cheer up. Which would ye rather have handy, poor old Red’s bones sticking up out of the sleet, or a mealy mouth apology to the weather robot?
Yepper Red, easy that!!!!
What?
Let’s go out and play in the sleet. Come on Ray! Whee! Let’s go.
No.
All righty then. Come on Olwen. We ladies shall leave old Ray to his cubby hole.
Yes we shall, Hope. But first we should give him some advice. Ray you should stop that moping in your cubby hole. Bye.
Bye twain beautiful girlfriends.
Ray!
What?
Why aren’t you out with your pretty twain girlfriends, faunching around in the sleet?
I’m thinking, Rayetta.
Hmmm. All righty then. Well Crumby, Lleu Llaw, Lomo and me, are all headed outside. You should come out of that cubby hole, Ray. The fresh, bracing air and sleet should perk you up.
I told you Rayetta, I’m thinking.
All righty then. Bye now sulky baby brother Ray.
Bye Rayetta.
Ray!
What?
Hep me outside. Ye need to hep me outside so I can mosey around in the dern sleet awhile. Being old and feeble these days, I need a young man like yerself to prop me up lest I slip on the sleet.
Red, I’m already busy, thinking.
Ye are too busy to aid a poor old ovate like myself? Er, ye know Ray, an old ovate like me may not get many more chances to play in the sleet. And what if I wander out there into this terrible blizzard without a young man such as yerself to hep me? Why I could wander off and bust my hip. Then after awhile ye might be the one to espy my poor old frozen bones sticking up out of the sleet.
Right Red. You are obviously right that I would probably be the one to find your old bones. All righty then. Let’s head on out.
Ray assists the feeble, aged senior ovate down the dusty hallways and on out into the general direction of the pecan orchard where all the rest of the Druids, with the possible exception of Raymone, are faunching around merrily.
What were ye thinking on Ray?
Well Red, I have spelled some pretty mean spells on the weather robot. But this time the weather robot almost got it right. So I have been thinking about whether I should apologize to the weather robot.
Ray, ye need to leave ovation to the ovates. But cheer up. Which would ye rather have handy, poor old Red’s bones sticking up out of the sleet, or a mealy mouth apology to the weather robot?
Yepper Red, easy that!!!!
posted by ray pistrum at Tuesday, January 16, 2007
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