At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013


Despite not being involved in a relationship with a member of the other gender, the place where I repose is livelier than ever. Largely due to the anarchists who have taken over.
They're a rowdy bunch, pesky at times.
Instigators of social unrest.

In order:

Oliver - a small purple dinosaur with strange ideas about women.
Hammond Starr - a repugnant white dwarf-weasel with a thing for Henry.
Henry - a perfectly straight male-chauvenist teddy-bear.
George - a gallant hippo who robs banks.
Giuseppe Bob - a rooster often mistaken for a turkey.
Totoro One - grinning.
Totoro Two - bemused.
Totoro Three - one inch tall, and not happy about that.
Manfred - a psychologically scarred teddy bear.
Guenther - a raccoon with an accent.
Tyrone Thibbit - an amphibian ('froad') with a big smile.
Miss Kitten - Tyrone's sadistic love interest.
Lucien - a small fat green frog.
Hello Kitty - notorious Japanese degenerate.
Eeeeek - elderly Halloween spider, arthritic.
Trotter - a piglet with a red bow who likes pick-up trucks, guns, country music, and Farmer Brown, who always fed her apples.
Edna - a very disturbed teddy bear.
The Snake - a pervert; like Edna, he wishes to eat Snidely.
Snidely - the head sheep. Not very bright.

And, of course, Eurasmus Wazzoo.

Eurasmus Wazzoo demands that I purchase the banana plantation his little simian heart desires, or else! Apparently it's a religious obligation to get him the farm. He'll tell the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Apes all about me if I don't. There will be repercussions.

He's a gibbon.

Never trust gibbons.

They're loud, and insistently opinionated. Plus rude and somewhat rambunctious. It's a wonder that the others haven't clobbered him yet, considering all the insane things he's said about them.
Fortunately for him, they're evenly trivided between oblivious, hard of hearing, and pre-occupied with their own thing.

Most of them want to steal my wallet while I'm asleep, some of them would prefer to poke me with a sharp stick.

Any woman who comes near this bunch of rowdies had best be made of stern stuff. She will be sorely put upon. And co-opted into their various schemes. They will demand that I be made to hand over the wallet, buy the plantation, acquire a bucket of really juicy honey beetles for the amphibs, heat up the cast-iron skillet, and organize the grand Head Sheep Day Parade (which is always "tomorrow").

If it happens, I'll need ticker tape.

I'd put them in front of the teevee, but they'd fight over the remote control.

I'm resigned to sleeping amidst a riot.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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