Irena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

 

Irena Delphina Hot Diggity DogIrena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

In the parlance of engines was merely a cog

 

In the gearshift of life she was quite unexciting

(She had nothing to do with, say, spark plugs igniting)

 

Her job was more blah, more boring, more simple

She was put on this earth to showcase her dimple

 

And stand on her tiptoes with arms stretched apart

While posing for drawings of horrible art

 

Oh if only the artist could draw her an ocean

She’d sit by the sea and imagine the motion

 

Or maybe the artist could draw her Mt. Zion

She could hike to the top with a leash on a lion

 

Is it any surprise that Irena’s not pompous

When the drawings of her are so catty and wampus?

 

Is it safe to assume that she’ll never be seen

Staring up from the pages of Vogue magazine?

 

Poor Irena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

She’s destined forever to live in this blog

Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grownup Children

Loretta Splatts, Human Cannon Ball

If there was one thing Loretta Splatts wasn’t it was . . . well, come to think of it, there actually wasn’t one thing Loretta Splatts wasn’t — at least in her mind anyway.

You see, Loretta didn’t own a car. She preferred to travel everywhere by being shot out of a cannon. Oh sure, there was the small inconvenience of not being able to go anywhere unless she had cab fare home, but Loretta thought it was a small price to pay for having a legitimate reason to wear a cape in public.

Loretta Splatts being shot out of a cannon linda vernon humor
“Gosh I sure am saving a lot of money on gas.”

Loretta often joked that the trajectory of her life was trending upwards even though nobody ever laughed when she said it.  The sad fact was, nobody listened to a word Loretta said — they were too preoccupied waving away the intermittent puffs of smoke emanating from her slightly smoldering cape or distractedly brushing stray bits of gun powder from her platinum blonde hair to actually listen to what she had to say.

Loretta Splatts Smoldering cape
“So anyways, my life’s trending upwards LOL!”                                                         “Sorry to interrupt but  I’m distracted by your slightly smoldering cape.”

Sometimes Loretta felt like a 40-pound dill pickle that people were compelled to ignore because, let’s face it, a 40-pound dill pickle is just way too much pickle to process at any one time.

40 pound dill pickle linda vernon  humor
Too much pickle to process

Loretta’s only true confidant was her Cannon Ball Igniter, Percival Perplexington, a recent graduate of the Royal Academy of Sciences and Cannon Igniters founded in 1323 by King William Blunk VIII÷V who was > King William Blunk VII ÷ VI but not by much.

Kings linda vernon humor
King William Blunk VIII÷V who was > King William Blunk VII ÷ VI but not by much

Percival Perplexington was a jolly sort of fellow who never let the burden his igniting responsibilities eat away at his good-natured heart although he could sometimes feel those same responsibilities late at night nibbling on his spleen. But spleens are expendable!  That was Percival’s motto having stolen it from the Royal Academy of Sciences and Cannon Igniters when he pried it off their front door his first day of class.

Royal Academy of Science and Cannon Ball Igniters

Percival graduated with honors and immediately took a position with Loretta Splatts as her official Cannon Igniter.  His fellow graduates where aghast when he accepted such a lowly position with such an inferior human cannon ball the likes of Loretta, but there was just something about the way she raised her hand to signal the lighting of the fuse that Percival Perplexington was mesmerized by or perhaps memorized by.  One of those.

Loretta Splatts and Percival Perplexington
Loretta Splatts and her devoted Igniter, Percival Perplexington

Try as he might, he simply could not look away from Loretta’s pinky.  Whether she was hailing a cab or signaling that he should light the fuse, Percival Perplexington was totally and utterly and completely dedicated to Loretta Splatts.  He even donated his shoes when the people came collecting for the Annual Shoes for Fuse donation drive to aid less fortunate human cannon balls in third world countries.

Percival Perplexington's feet
He gave his shoes for the betterment of third world human cannon balls

It was a sad day for Percival Perplexington when his employer Loretta Splatts finally lived up to her name.  She was meeting a friend for lunch at the Riboflavin Rotisserie when she misjudged the location of the outdoor seating area by a skosh and came crashing down in the middle of a cow pasture that as luck would have it was being rented out to a mattress company.  She bounced off one of the mattresses and got temporarily stuck in a tree when a huge gust of wind blew her into oncoming traffic.

Loretta Splatts splat
And splat went Loretta Splatts

Percival Perplexington was positively beside himself with grief. It took him hours and hours  to eat lunch that day at the Riboflavin Rotisserie.

You see, he ordered a forty-pound dill pickle in honor of Loretta Splatts.

"Yes sir!  One forty pound pickle comin' up!"
“Yes sir! One forty-pound pickle comin’ up!

My Butler’s Toupee or Living in Hotsy Totsy Land

Welcome!  Isn’t this a fine June morning Dear Readers?  I’m leaving for the mall in just a few minutes to meet a very good friend where we will shop for items that we will eventually donate to the thrift store and later inadvertently buy back again.  I’m sorry to have to say I didn’t have time to cook up a new, fresh essay for you, but I have taken a leftover essay and stuck it in the oven at 350 degrees. 

This, Dear Reader, is the view from my Morning Room.

Ok, I don’t really have a Morning Room, as such, it’s actually just a fancy way of saying a chair by the window in the bedroom.

But I like to refer to it as my Morning Room whenever I am giving instructions to my Butler.

Ok, I don’t really have a Butler, as such, it’s just a fancy way of referring to my little dog who looks like a really bad toupee that a Butler might wear.

Picture of a yorkshire terrier
My Butler’s Toupee

So this morning, Dear Reader, whist sitting in my Morning Room admiring the view, I soon found myself ringing for the Butler with the Butler Bell.  Which is to say,  I called at the very tip-top of my very best lung,

“Here Chancey!  Here Chancy!”

. . . because what I refer to as my Butler’s Bell isn’t really a Butler’s Bell, as such, but just a fancy way of saying ‘calling the dog’.

To which my Butler responded by running over and jumping onto my lap —  or at least his toupee did.

Twas shortly after that,  I instructed my Lady-in-Waiting to bring my breakfast to the Morning Room for my Butler and I — that we might dine whilst partaking of the View of the Estate from the Window of the Morning Room,

Ok, it isn’t really an Estate, as such, it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘tree’.  But a pretty one it is.  I would even go so far as to say that my Butler’s Toupee and I think it very grand indeed!

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

It seems my Lady-in-Waiting refused to serve us our breakfast due to the fact that she isn’t really a Lady-in-Waiting, as such, but just a fancy way in which I sometimes refer to myself.

And I never make breakfast.

Until next time . . . I love you