Ray's Thought for the Day - Evolving Up, From Little Snails
Are we not men?
That’s right. Devo and the Osage agree that the humble snail is the human progenitor. Actually, the Osage, maybe, credit the snail as the male human progenitor, only. The balance of our ancestry derives from the beaver lady, according to the Osage, maybe. Thank goodness for that. A beaver lady is bound to be a good influence.
Uh. I have no hands on experience with Osage mythology. Plus, I have no Osage acquaintances. Even my bosom companion, Crumby, has no Osage acquaintances. See, I ask Crumby about the Osage. Apparently the Osage are, according to Crumby, Yankee Indians, habitating north of Crumby’s former haunts. Therefore, I can not independently verify any of the above except, of course, the Devo hypothesis, which has been published, widely.
Boy Howdy! I have pushed some dirt under the sun this week. Consequently, I am in one of those moods, tired yet ready. Yepper. Don’t cross Ray Pistrum tonight. If you do, you shall surmise the Wicker Man has got you by the short hairs.
No doubt, all the exercise engendered such high levels of hormones in my system that I plumb forgot the change of seasons which transpired on Day 328. Today is Day 331 so we are already into Polaris the season, named for our friendly, occasionally visible guide star that we call Polar Bear for short. Appropriately, we had a dry norther blow through at the ending of Olwen White Track the season, heralding the coming of the Polar Bear. Yet I was too hormoned up to correlate the norther with the seasonal change.
Ray! Yer swole up. Whut’s ailin’ ye?
Never mind Crumby. I feel the need to kick some evil doer ass. So take over.
All righty then. Go kick some evil doer ass, Ray. Kick some fer me, too.
Hi everybody. It’s me, Crumby, designated shopper. OK. Remember, Rayetta needs the Olympus 70-300mm telephoto/macro lens real bad. Or she would, if the butterflies had not tanked. Yet that particular lens shipment was entirely kidnaped by lusty pirates under subcontract to the commies. Nevertheless, a state department employee volunteer, known by the code name, Herman, has negotiated the release of one of those lenses, just for the Lovely Druidess. The released and unmolested lens meets most of my designated shopper criteria. Even though, it is for sale, but not available. I pre-ordered it thanks to Herman. I also got a 20 dollar discount, nullifying twice the postage cost. Yep 20 - 10 = 10 that I saved. Plus, I still get the rebate.
Now let's review, shoppers. On the negative side of the ledger I had to pre-order and pay postage. Then too, my item is not here yet. On the positive side, I got a lower price, tax free, warrantied item from an authorized dealer, and a rebate. Plus, the item may be here pretty soon, maybe.
The reason I broke down and pre-ordered that lens for Rayetta is, I am weak. My ovations kept spelling me, Crumby, the dollar is sinking. The price of that lens is inversely related to the strength of the dollar, maybe. Lock in that 20 dollar discount, today, before the commies or the allies of the commies, those lusty pirates, up the price. So I was weak, violated my first designated shopper principle, and pre-ordered. Mercy on me, Merciful Goddess!!!!
That dern lens needs to get to the CB before it shows up on Rayetta’s credit card. That way, Rayetta shall have her lens before she gets the bill. Yepper. I ovate, that lens shall arrive at the CB no later than two weeks from today, surely.
Meantime, my legs are way better. I don’t know why. Perhaps my annual worthiness test is coming to a happy end, earlier than is usual. Usually I am excessively tormented during my trial, far into the new year, for some 20 days after the Polaris or Polar Bear Solstice. Yet here I am, all of a sudden, skipping along at a fair pace.
Based on past experience, patterns indicate that I should remain cautious, even wary. I could be smitten by a new affliction any minute out of nowhere. Yet on the other hand, I took the arrival of my prodigal pocket knife as a good sign. In fact, that prodigal pocket knife may be what cured by legs since my legs got well about the same time my prodigal pocket knife showed up. The Blessed Goddess may have returned that prodigal pocket unto me, out of the very bowels of Hades, to spell,
That’s right. Devo and the Osage agree that the humble snail is the human progenitor. Actually, the Osage, maybe, credit the snail as the male human progenitor, only. The balance of our ancestry derives from the beaver lady, according to the Osage, maybe. Thank goodness for that. A beaver lady is bound to be a good influence.
Uh. I have no hands on experience with Osage mythology. Plus, I have no Osage acquaintances. Even my bosom companion, Crumby, has no Osage acquaintances. See, I ask Crumby about the Osage. Apparently the Osage are, according to Crumby, Yankee Indians, habitating north of Crumby’s former haunts. Therefore, I can not independently verify any of the above except, of course, the Devo hypothesis, which has been published, widely.
Boy Howdy! I have pushed some dirt under the sun this week. Consequently, I am in one of those moods, tired yet ready. Yepper. Don’t cross Ray Pistrum tonight. If you do, you shall surmise the Wicker Man has got you by the short hairs.
No doubt, all the exercise engendered such high levels of hormones in my system that I plumb forgot the change of seasons which transpired on Day 328. Today is Day 331 so we are already into Polaris the season, named for our friendly, occasionally visible guide star that we call Polar Bear for short. Appropriately, we had a dry norther blow through at the ending of Olwen White Track the season, heralding the coming of the Polar Bear. Yet I was too hormoned up to correlate the norther with the seasonal change.
Ray! Yer swole up. Whut’s ailin’ ye?
Never mind Crumby. I feel the need to kick some evil doer ass. So take over.
All righty then. Go kick some evil doer ass, Ray. Kick some fer me, too.
Hi everybody. It’s me, Crumby, designated shopper. OK. Remember, Rayetta needs the Olympus 70-300mm telephoto/macro lens real bad. Or she would, if the butterflies had not tanked. Yet that particular lens shipment was entirely kidnaped by lusty pirates under subcontract to the commies. Nevertheless, a state department employee volunteer, known by the code name, Herman, has negotiated the release of one of those lenses, just for the Lovely Druidess. The released and unmolested lens meets most of my designated shopper criteria. Even though, it is for sale, but not available. I pre-ordered it thanks to Herman. I also got a 20 dollar discount, nullifying twice the postage cost. Yep 20 - 10 = 10 that I saved. Plus, I still get the rebate.
Now let's review, shoppers. On the negative side of the ledger I had to pre-order and pay postage. Then too, my item is not here yet. On the positive side, I got a lower price, tax free, warrantied item from an authorized dealer, and a rebate. Plus, the item may be here pretty soon, maybe.
The reason I broke down and pre-ordered that lens for Rayetta is, I am weak. My ovations kept spelling me, Crumby, the dollar is sinking. The price of that lens is inversely related to the strength of the dollar, maybe. Lock in that 20 dollar discount, today, before the commies or the allies of the commies, those lusty pirates, up the price. So I was weak, violated my first designated shopper principle, and pre-ordered. Mercy on me, Merciful Goddess!!!!
That dern lens needs to get to the CB before it shows up on Rayetta’s credit card. That way, Rayetta shall have her lens before she gets the bill. Yepper. I ovate, that lens shall arrive at the CB no later than two weeks from today, surely.
Meantime, my legs are way better. I don’t know why. Perhaps my annual worthiness test is coming to a happy end, earlier than is usual. Usually I am excessively tormented during my trial, far into the new year, for some 20 days after the Polaris or Polar Bear Solstice. Yet here I am, all of a sudden, skipping along at a fair pace.
Based on past experience, patterns indicate that I should remain cautious, even wary. I could be smitten by a new affliction any minute out of nowhere. Yet on the other hand, I took the arrival of my prodigal pocket knife as a good sign. In fact, that prodigal pocket knife may be what cured by legs since my legs got well about the same time my prodigal pocket knife showed up. The Blessed Goddess may have returned that prodigal pocket unto me, out of the very bowels of Hades, to spell,
Crumby, here is your red pocket knife back. You have been a good boy this year and I have already decided that your trial is over. You get to continue. Don't lose that pocket knife though. If you lose it again before 20 suns rise after the Polaris Solstice I shall kill you. Then you and that pocket knife shall journey into the bowels of Hades or wherever I decide to put you.Whoa! That reminds me. I need to sew up the hole in the pocket of my green Brownie pants.
posted by ray pistrum at Friday, November 16, 2007
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