Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Grail, Snail--Everything's Holy to Somebody
I was once turned into a newt.
By a pretty, young witch, pointy hat, clad in black stockings. I thought all was well, but obviously, I thought wrong.
She told me that one day I'd get betta, cackled, whacked me with her broom for good measure.
I had to do something, so I decided to evolve. First, I became a snake, which was no good. Snakes can't write. And it got old talking women into eating apples all the time.
So I made a u turn back into a newt, then a lizard (a lounge lizard, to be precise!), then a rat, stuck in a race going nowhere. Sometimes, a piece of cheese, but more often than not I was pulling my tail from trap after trap.
Then I evolved into a monkey, a sort of baboon, really. I made a living for a time doing George W. Bush impersonations, complete with powder blue suit and a god-awful red tie, scratching my bum, smacking my lips. Lots of laughs, good times all around.
When the novelty wore off, I was chased out of the capital with only one banana to my name, smelling of rotten fruit, the Congressional bouquet, Eau de Toilet. That's when I knew it was time to evolve into the full-fledged bum poet you see before you today.
In the end, I can't blame the witch. I was kind of asking for trouble from the moment I slipped her my number to the moment she slipped me that potion. I thought it was champagne. It was our reception, after all...
And I never did get bettah.
Above: Does the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch need an introduction? I think not.
Middle: Promo for Monty Python's Spamalot, the musical. Good lord, nothing is sacred, is it?
Below: "It has teef like dis." Ah, yes. The great and terrible Beast of Bannockburn. Many a knight has met his demise at the paws of this unassuming fellow. "Run away!" Advice one would take care to note.
No, I haven't lost my mind--just thought it was the right time for something completely different. I'll have a good poem for you all come the morning.