Der Bingle’s birthday is Friday and LZP has sent a box. It got here last week, but this past weekend, Der Bingle didn’t make it home. Soooo . . . it has been waiting and TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT. We always wonder if something is in it that is going to
when opened. If you hear muffled murmurs, that will be Der Bingle. And then you will probably hear Iowa chortling.
As part of my rehabilitation therapy, Spiffie has put me to work on research:
My mother remembers my Great-great Aunt Sara, my grandmother’s aunt on her father’s side, but only a very few years older remarking to my grandmother: “I always thought so much of your mother.” And here Elsie is noted to be a “noble” woman. Well, I guess somewhere along the line I picked up some feisty genes. Newfie occurred, and as acting manager of the PBC&R, has given me a table in the corner, designated the “Feisty Section”.
I mowed yesterday in Lagrange County(x1). Today I went to Allen County(x2) and came back to Noble County to see Mrs. Feller(x3) and then home to sof. That is a verb now because I say so. It means to lie around on a sofa. I do that a lot so it is a big X . . . where I sometimes make zzzzzzzzzz’s.
Yes, I am boring . . . quite possibly because of the Psychic Lobotomy performed by the Attitude Adjusters here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse.
Spiffie here to tell you we have decided to give AmeliaJake probation and are not asking her to resign her membership at the PBC &R. She has shown true remorse and it is possible she even had a panic attack as a result of the situation. Rose had a talk with her. That should say it all.
We are afraid that some vigilante seeking justice served via lightning bolt had a bad aim – Der Bingle’s two big blueberry bushes croaked over night. We would ask all Beings of the Flat Nose to extend forgiveness and refrain from exacting punishment – no nose for the nose thing . . . THIS TIME.
Newfie will remain in charge of daily operations until further notice.
I have a growing feeling that something either has, is doing so now, or soon will go horribly wrong. I have always – sort of, kind of, seems like, sure is a co-incidence – had such feelings before – every now and then, little sensations and big ones. Of course, there is the possibility that is I who am going to collapse in an emotional puddle of goop. And then there is the consideration that I might do that to save my psychic reputation if nothing bad does happen.
God, being AmeliaJake is a convoluted mess . . .
Well, it seems not only do we have a problem with AmeliaJake and her insensitive remarks about flat noses, but there is some reverse commentary. Our dear friend Woo, whose picture will be at the bottom of this post, has herself earned a demerit. When the council told AmeliaJake to stand in the corner, Woo snorted and said, “Well, she can’t stand against the wall, call she?” Although we all feel the tension Woo feels, as CEO I cannot allow this situation to deteriorate into a pissing sneezing contest.
Woo:
Oh dear, she doesn’t look too chagrined, does she?
Hello, my name is Spiffie and I am on of the silent partners at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse.
We have reviewed the recent remarks by AmeliaJake and have decided that she will be suspended from the Cafe until further notice. Her comments do not reflect the views of the majority stockholders, nor of its CEO (That would be me, Spiffie) We find her “profiling” to be contrary to the inclusiveness of the Cafe. It should be apparent that we are open to all members, given the fact that AmeliaJake is one – although that status is under consideration at this time.
Newfie, whose picture was featured in AJ’s last post, will be assuming AJ’s duties until further notice.
I think my nose is growing and not because I am lying. I can feel it expanding. I look in the mirror and it is the same, so I have decided my nose is like Snoopy’s doghouse – it expands internally through some not yet understandable aspect of physics. Right now, I think Rockettes may be dancing in there, kicking my sinus areas and tickling the inside of my nasal passages with their feathers.
A lot of my friends here don’t understand my remarks. Most of them look like this:
Actually, they try not to talk about my nose, unless they are in a snit with me and then a snide remark or two may crop up. Sometimes I tell them it’s so much easier for them to window shop than it is for me . . . and then they get surly. I would say they get their noses out of joint . . . but, you know.
See post below for explanation; you probably won’t believe it.
Perhaps I will take a real life photo of my exact Otter Box, with something in the picture for scale. Or maybe not.
UPDATE:
Ooops, sorry. I forgot to include a picture of the Otter Box Logo:
