Dreamer's Day, Marchipelago 1, 41 A.B.

     At long last, it has arrived: Marchipelago!  A chain of 31 day-long islands holding wonders yet to be discovered!
     Who knows what we may find as we take up our custom-made marchetes and hack our way into the interior?  (Being careful not to disturb a single innocent leaf, of course.)
     What man, woman, or child can say beforehand what amazing examples of native marchitecture may await our hungry eyes?
     And if we were to pause as we made our way through an especially thick week and delicately took the time to engage in a bit of amateur marcheology, what long hidden secrets might we uncover to our great, mutual joy?
     Come!  The month is young.  The moment's afoot.  Let us -

     "Will you read me a story?"
     Excuse me, Jester, but I'm afraid I'm on a roll.
     But I really want to -
     "Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow! Me-"
     Alright!  Alright!  But just a quick The Cat in the Hat and then -
     "NO!  I want THIS one!"
     Ack!  I've been reading you that all evening!
     "Well, cats are creatures of habit - what can I say?  Besides - I like it."
     Ok!  Ok!  It's easier just to read it than to argue!

Pussycat, Pussycat

Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I've been to London to look at the Queen.
Pussycat, pussycat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under the chair.


     Happy?  Good.  Now if you'll excuse me -
     "Read it again."
     NO!  What's with you and this silly poem, anyway?  Geez!
     "It's true, you know."
     Well, that's what makes it a poem, I think.  A lot of people think it's the rhyme that does it, but no - a poem is only a poem if it's true.
     "I mean, I actually lived it today."
     Oh, really?  So tell me, how is Queen Elizabeth these days, hmmm?  Is she over the fact yet that most people think she's a -
     "I didn't see THAT Queen, idiot.  Neither did I quite make it to London, since you won't even let me out the back door and all.  But I got to see MY Queen nonetheless."
     Hmmmm.  I think you've had too much catnip again.
     "I'm telling ya, I SAW her!  And the mouse, too."
     The mouse, too?
     "Yeah.  I could tell the two apart because, you know, the mouse looked just like you."
     You HAVE been in the catnip again, haven't you?
     "She was a real vision, she was.  But that mouse - ugh!  Sweet talked his way into her pantries, and then wantonly got into her refrigerator and guzzled all her milk!"
     STOP!  I really am NOT interested in the hallucinations of a weed-snorting feline right now.  OK?
     "The little beast didn't even check the expiration dates on her oddly swollen jugs!  It was just like those people on that show the other night - remember?   Even worse than that guy who said he'd drink milk until it was chunky!  Not even I would do that!!  But this mouse didn't even come up for air!  Oh, how the sight of his scurrying around in the very bottom of the royal milk receptacles turned my stomach.  I just HAD to chase him under the chair.  Or maybe it was Her Majesty's royal Sears side-by-side.  Anyway, chase him I did - and not a moment too soon.  I mean to say, he was halfway into her sweet cream by the time I figured out how to paw open the door - and I'm sure he had already laid his beady little eyes on her butter tubs!"
     Excuse me, but this whole conversation is turning MY stomach.  Whoever heard of such nonsense!  
     "I thought the Queen might reward me with a pat on the head - or maybe even grant me a nice big lick of her tuna.  Alas,  it was not to be.  Despite my confessing my love and devotion to her with ardent ankle rubs, she seemed almost sad to see the mouse run away.  *Sigh* ...."
     And - just out of curiosity - what did this Queen look like?  Hmmm?  Not that awful woman from the deck of cards who used to bother me - was it?
     "N-n-no.  She looked, ummmmm, much different.  Here's a picture."
     You have a picture??
     "Well, not from today.  I clipped it ages ago out of the newspaper.  Be careful not to drool on it."
     Come on!!  This is a photo of a DOG!
     "Ha!  Shows what you know, Mr. Genius.  That's not just any dog.  That's the state's top drug-sniffing dog!  An actual officer of the law!  Like, MEOW, BABY!  Someday she'll make chief - you mark my purrrrs."
     Jester, do you have any idea how sick that is?  I mean, a cat in love with a dog??  A cat calling a dog his Queen???  
     "Sick or not, at least neither she nor I look like a certain rodent I could mention.  Now, sing me our song again."
     "Sing it or I'll tell Mom how addicted YOU are to something even worse than catnip!"
     Oh?  Oh, really?!  And whatever might be worse than that, my little junkie?
     "Oh, gee, I dunno - maybe mainlining firefly phosphorescence with a cactus needle?"     
     Give me the damn book...!  You know it's really all just a figment of your drug-addled imagination, don't you?  You know that even if it wasn't, no self-respecting drug-sniffing police dog would ever be caught dead with a weed-snorting fiend like yourself - right?
     "You know, the more desperate you get in your denials of reality, the more your mustache quivers just like a mouse whisker...."

NOTE:  Due to the unexpected need to confine a family member in the laundry room until he sobered up and no longer presented a danger to himself or anyone else, today's entry had to be discontinued at this point.


We now return you to your own Marchipelago, already in progress.  Enjoy!

And if you can't enjoy, at least be sure to check the expiration date on the milk jug before attempting to drown your sorrows in potentially chunky matter masquerading as a consumable dairy product.

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(All Material, Both Explicit And Implied But Especially That Explicit Stuff 
©Now by Dan "I Don't Even Know How To Squeak!" Birtcher)