Back to Work, Swish Crack
Swish Crack is supposed to be the noise a whip makes when an average mule skinner employs a whip on the luckless slave mules. Mercy! Crumby's situation is fixing to be just like that of a slave mule. Yes. Crumby is fixing to gee or haw with the best of them. Well. Maybe not the best of them. Maybe more like an average one. Always remember, no matter what, the average or balanced way is the Druid Way.
Yes. Anon, Crumby shall be part of a team, pulling for the common good. But pulling as part of a team under the crack of a whip, though maybe accurate, is not the metaphor Crumby espies for himself. No. Crumby sees himself more as a solitary yet noble pack mule burdened with the greatest pack an average mule could bear.
Like one time Karl the Tracker Druid entered his pet mule, Ajax, into this contest. The point of the contest was to see which mule could bear a great pack over a standard distance the quickest. If Ajax could have won, Karl would have received a year's supply of Brown's Mule plug tobacco. Why is the mule depicted on the Brown's Mule wrapper always red? Only the wise know the answer to that question.
But the mules all got together just prior to the contest and made an agreement. And the agreement made by all the mules was, We shall all tie. So that's what those mules did, tie. They all toted their packs over the course at precisely the same time finishing up in unison.
Everybody was astonished that the mules could carry off such a complex maneuver. But then the various mule packers, which is the silly name pack mule men or ladies call themselves, mule packers, cried out. Whut about the Brown Mule?
What the mule packers meant by their cry was, Who gets the prize? Interestingly, nobody ever called Brown's Mule, Brown's Mule. No. Instead it was always, Brown Mule.
Well obviously, no one mule packer was fixing to get a year's supply based on the performance of the various mules during the bygone contest. But the tobacco magnate that was there officiating still had an industrial sized wheel barrow plumb full of Brown Mule. Everybody there could espy the wheel barrow with all that year's supply of Brown Mule neatly stacked within the capacious wheel barrow interior. Everybody was salivating fer a chaw.
OK. We can do this one of twain ways, the tobacco magnate pontificated. And I am good with either path or way we shall take. First, we could feature a new contest. Y'all could try to guess how many Brown Mule are in the wheel barrow. Second, we could evenly divvy up the Brown Mule among all the mule packers.
Which of the twain options set out before them do the mule packers choose? Only the wise know.
As they all rode home together, Karl astride his smart saddle horse, Prissy, with Ajax bringing up the rear, Karl queried. How's your strap Ajax? Not too tight?
Yes. Anon, Crumby shall be part of a team, pulling for the common good. But pulling as part of a team under the crack of a whip, though maybe accurate, is not the metaphor Crumby espies for himself. No. Crumby sees himself more as a solitary yet noble pack mule burdened with the greatest pack an average mule could bear.
Like one time Karl the Tracker Druid entered his pet mule, Ajax, into this contest. The point of the contest was to see which mule could bear a great pack over a standard distance the quickest. If Ajax could have won, Karl would have received a year's supply of Brown's Mule plug tobacco. Why is the mule depicted on the Brown's Mule wrapper always red? Only the wise know the answer to that question.
But the mules all got together just prior to the contest and made an agreement. And the agreement made by all the mules was, We shall all tie. So that's what those mules did, tie. They all toted their packs over the course at precisely the same time finishing up in unison.
Everybody was astonished that the mules could carry off such a complex maneuver. But then the various mule packers, which is the silly name pack mule men or ladies call themselves, mule packers, cried out. Whut about the Brown Mule?
What the mule packers meant by their cry was, Who gets the prize? Interestingly, nobody ever called Brown's Mule, Brown's Mule. No. Instead it was always, Brown Mule.
Well obviously, no one mule packer was fixing to get a year's supply based on the performance of the various mules during the bygone contest. But the tobacco magnate that was there officiating still had an industrial sized wheel barrow plumb full of Brown Mule. Everybody there could espy the wheel barrow with all that year's supply of Brown Mule neatly stacked within the capacious wheel barrow interior. Everybody was salivating fer a chaw.
OK. We can do this one of twain ways, the tobacco magnate pontificated. And I am good with either path or way we shall take. First, we could feature a new contest. Y'all could try to guess how many Brown Mule are in the wheel barrow. Second, we could evenly divvy up the Brown Mule among all the mule packers.
Which of the twain options set out before them do the mule packers choose? Only the wise know.
As they all rode home together, Karl astride his smart saddle horse, Prissy, with Ajax bringing up the rear, Karl queried. How's your strap Ajax? Not too tight?
posted by ray pistrum at Wednesday, January 05, 2011
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