It's been a while, and it will be a while longer before I get back up to
speed, but I'm finally home from my recent and unexpected "vacation to
Hmoland." My sincere and heartfelt thanks to all the cards, letters, z
phone calls, emails and posters (thanks Eric--it was hung over my bed!)
from friends who wished me well. Thank you, each and every one. Hell, I
sound like Tiny Tim. I gotta stop that.
At the moment, it's about four in the morning; I have a dozen ferrets
napping on my shoes. I half expect that cute little vampire who has been
waking me up at this time for the last couple of weeks to walk in and poke
me in the arm. I sorta miss not being able to crack my morning joke to
someone who really just wishes there was a procedure called a "punectomy."
So, since I can't sleep after being so well conditioned by white-coated
blood thieves, I'll just have to tell it here. You know why ferrets love
shoes? Because they have sole.... I know, I'ma heel over that one.
It was nice to come home to a hero's welcome. I was mobbed by 16 of the
most friendly, happy litter farts this side of eternity, all dancing and
spinning around and hopping on me. Nothing has really changed that much
with the misfits of Bobdom; maybe Fraggle looks a little older and more
fragile. Sam Luc is starting to look his years. Certainly Mickey Moose is
a gigantic as ever, and just as stinky. Elizabeth has started calling him
"Testicle boy." You don't notice these things on a day-by-day basis, but
they are very apparent when you've been gone a while. Kudos to all my
cccccccccccccced in to make sure the fur snakes were fed, watered and had
their fur rubbed the wrong way. Special thanks to Elizabeth, who stepped
in as an impromptu secretary, keeping my business affairs running and
occasionally printing out emails and the FML for me. I simply cannot
express my gratitude for the help given to me by my kids. There are a few
things--just a few--that are actually more important to me than friends,
ferrets or science. I just might add my kids to that list.
My deepest apologies to those in California. I had made plans to drive out
and was forced to cancel at the last minute. I hope to make up for it in
April if I can. But it was better that I didn't go. The state I was in,
it would have been extremely easy to moon those Fishing Gestapo and Butt
Brained Id-E-Ots (like I wasn't already mooning the occasional passersby;
there is no dignity when your shirt is lacking a back side), and I would
have done it. Hell, if I could have pushed that little button thingie they
gave me, I would have mooned anyone. If Ansel was still alive, he could
have taken a picture and called it "Moon over Half-Wits." All I know is,
those moronic refugees from Cephalic Spongiform City need to have done to
them what was done to me because they are so full of poop that they could
build their own deck. I say they should install a handle on the side of
their head so the rest of us could pull it for the occasional flush. I
wonder if they wear a headband that says "Sanitized for your protection."
As for catching up on all my ferret-related email, I think it is pretty
much hopeless. I am just not up to wading through hundreds of things and
I need to put my attention to catching up on those things important to
life and livelihood. So if you asked for permission for a reprint,
consider it given, just let me know you did it. If you asked a question
and still want an answer, just ask it again. And if you really wanted to
send me hundreds of dollars, who am I to stop you? You have to do what you
think is right! :-) Hey, I got an idea. Maybe we could put an auction up
on eBay for people to get a picture of my scar. As an extra bonus, you can
see my brand new belly button. Bill, you are the MAN! Who else could get
people to donate money just to learn a middle name? I am VERY impressed!
When I go to Philadelphia this spring to give my paper, I'm coming up to
NY land with a six-pack of Fat Weasel Ale. I just want to bask in your
shadow! (Just a joke folks.....probably because I'm over-medicated.
'Sides, Bill can take care of himself with one of those wonderful
one-liners he occasionally spits out and I hope they doesn't throw at me.
I've been sick, Bill......please be gentle...).
I am *really* glad to be back. I am so tired of eating stuff you can see
through that even beer has lost it's appeal. I am just lucky I have a
supply of thick brown stout. If you can stand a spoon in it, it isn't
beer, its food. And I've been ordered to only consume a soft diet for a
while....
Bob C and 16 MO' Belly Dancers
[Posted in FML issue 2958]
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