Tag Archives: general silliness

‘Oy, Rodney,’ Continued

Image result for images of silly romance novels

My heel spur was acting up today, and I turned my ankle yesterday on those confounded walnuts that are all over the yard, and a pipe broke in our basement so we can’t use the washing machine and I had to go to the laundromat instead–so it seemed an apt time to read Chapters XLV and XLVI of Oy, Rodney by Violet Crepuscular.

(I have been asked why I always show the cover of Lord of the Tube Socks instead of the one for Oy, Rodney. It’s really much nicer, that’s all.)

The mysterious stranger who looks like Ed Begley but isn’t, it turns out, has been in the book under false pretenses, having sneaked in from another book entirely. Ms. Crepuscular was rather put out when she discovered that, so that character has since been abruptly written out–leaving the way clear for our hero, young Lord Jeremy Coldsore, to propose marriage to Lady Margo Cargo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire. In a real stroke of luck, Jeremy finds the glass eye that fell out of Lady Margo’s head some months ago and is trying to get up the nerve to return it to her.

Meanwhile, the vicar, recovering from the conniptions he suffered when he peeked under the  backyard wading pool to see what was making that awful noise, has stopped speaking backwards and now speaks sideways, which makes him even more difficult to understand. It has not yet occurred to him that he could write down what he saw and then people would know.

Jeremy’s scheme to introduce wild koalas to Yorkshire has gone belly-up and he’s running out of time to recover his family’s lost fortune and save Coldsore Hall from another mysterious stranger who wants to tear it down and build a MacDonald’s in its place. Under pressure, Jeremy hints, “Maybe it’s time I went to see Rodney.” I still think Rodney will turn out to be a rabbit.

But that’s enough for now.

Back to ‘Oy, Rodney’

Image result for images of silly romance novels

I have read some more of Oy, Rodney, but I don’t seem to be any farther along in it. I think gremlins come in and add pages to it when no one’s looking.

Young Lord Jeremy Coldsore, in a desperate attempt to recoup his family fortune, has entered into a scheme with a mysterious stranger to introduce wild marsupials to the Scottish highlands. The koalas don’t like it. Jeremy is still trying to marry Lady Margo Cargo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire, but he will have to hurry because bits of her are falling off.

American adventurer Willis Twombley has discovered proof that he really is Sargon of Akkad. They still don’t believe him.

The vicar is recovering from the conniptions he suffered when he sneaked a peek under the backyard wading pool to see what was making the queer noises. The experience has so disturbed his brain that now he can only speak backwards.

So far no character named “Rodney” has  appeared in the story. After some 400 pages, this is annoying. I am beginning to suspect that “Rodney” is either a rabbit or a hamster: author Violet Crepuscular has dropped certain dark hints that it might be so. I’ll be very much put out if he turns out to be nothing at all.

NOTE: I still haven’t found a reproducible picture of the cover art for Oy, Rodney, so for the time being, Lord of the Tube Socks must suffice. We happen to know that Ms. Crepuscular has read this book and approves of it.

The Riddle of Centaur Evolution: Solved!

Image result for images of funny centaurs

In an announcement that has rocked that part of the scientific world that concerns itself with centaurs, Dr. Hobart Dogbed, Professor of Comparative Gender Studies at Jidrool University, has solved the mystery of centaur evolution.

“I laugh when I think of how long it took us to work this out,” he said, “but it’s obvious, isn’t it? Centaurs evolved from special apes!”

The thing that was special about these apes was that they were half ape and half horse. Dr. Dogbed calls them Ape-taurs.

Although no fossil remains of any Ape-taurs have been found, Dr. Dogbed defends his theory as “the only one possible. Only racists and Anti-Science fascist biggits would deny it. Since when do we have to show fossils of any of this stuff?”

The Ape-taurs, he said, lived in what is now the Bellyup Nature Preserve “somewhere in Africa” and lived in perfect harmony with all other species. “It was only when the top half started to evolve into a human that centaurs began to get a reputation as troublemakers,” he said. “But that’s what always happens when apes evolve into humans.”

Dr. Dogbed is also an associate professor of Superhero Studies somewhere in Africa.

Movies That Never Made It

Image result for images of jackie chan

Jackie Chan as Edvard Grieg?

Here are a few films which, for one reason or another, never made it to market.

Song of Norway remake starring Jackie Chan. An attempt to tell the life story of Norwegian composer Edvard Grief as a kung-fu movie. It is rumored Mr. Chan refused the gig.

50 Shades of Puce. A movie about seasickness. You can imagine.

Skin Man! A new superhero who, for all practical purposes, is nothing more than an empty human skin–which allows him to travel folded up inside a suitcase. His sidekick, the faithful Fongo, goes up on the rooftops and drops him on top of the bad guys, and Skin Man does the rest. Too gross.

Oppressed Millionaire Athletes Who Deserve More of Your Money. Abandoned in mid-production when market research indicated that absolutely no one would ever want to see this film.

Feel My Feelers. A sensitive college student volunteers to be injected with moth hormones in a fruitless effort to transition himself into a woman. Done interview-style with gender-neutral pronouns and lots of Play-Doh. The only print of this low-budget masterpiece was accidentally thrown out with the trash.


That Ain’t Hillary

Speaking of those literary titans, Bill and Hillary Clinton, some people just can’t be honest about anything.

This is the back cover of the dust jacket of Hillary’s new book, What Happened, her thrilling analysis of how it’s everybody’s fault but hers that she isn’t president. Look at it closely.

It’s not Hillary. This woman is a model who bears a resemblance to Hillary but isn’t her. (Is this starting to sound like Oy, Rodney, or what?) She couldn’t even put her own picture on her own book.

But hey, it’s a great marketing ploy, and I’m all ready to take advantage of it personally! Yessireebob, when my next book, The Silver Trumpet, comes out, I’m gonna have my picture on the back cover! And here it is: drum roll, please.

Image result for images of steve reeves

Waddya mean, it isn’t me? I think I detect some hate speech in the air…

More on a Moronic Romance Novel

Image result for images of silly romantic novel

I couldn’t find a picture of the cover of Oy, Rodney by Violet Crepuscular, but take it from me, it’s very similar to the one for Lord of the Tube Socks.

I read Oy, Rodney when my heel spur hurts. It’s the epic story of the romance between Lord Jeremy Coldsore and the aging but still quite homely Dame Margo Cargo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire, who is also being courted by a man who looks like Ed Begley, but isn’t. I’ve just come to the part where Lord Jeremy is discomfited by his discovery that the whole Coldsore family has been bankrupted by unwise bets on whether the Duke of Dodder will come back from the dead, once the heat dies down. He didn’t, and the noble house of Coldsore is flat broke.

Meanwhile, the vicar has peeked under his backyard plastic wading pool and gone into conniptions. We are not told what he saw.

Another mysterious character has entered the story, an American adventurer named Willis Twombley, who thinks he is Sargon of Akkad. The other characters are pretty sure he isn’t.

There are only some 400 pages left to go, and we still don’t know what Dame Margo proposes to do about her bunions. Jeremy has not yet gotten up the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. It’s exciting because it’s the only hand Dame Margo has. A goat chewed off the other one.

P. S.: Robbie went to the vet this morning for her checkup, and everything seems to be going well with her treatment. I have been careful not to let her read Oy, Rodney.

A Few More False Facts

Image result for images of intellectual moron

Even a fool, if he holds his tongue, may be thought wise. King Solomon said so. But who can hold his tongue?

Here are a few things that anyone can say to give an impression of deep wisdom and great erudition. All you have to do is say them with lots of gravitas. (That, by the way, is another word that really smart people use all the time.) You will know you’ve succeeded when someone’s eyebrows shoot up and he exclaims, “I didn’t know that!” But it’s even better if they just nod sagely. Then you’ll know that they’re faking it, too.

Here are your new false facts:

*The Moors in Spain, in addition to having beautiful water fountains, also had fountain pens that were centuries ahead of their time.

*Shakespeare’s plays were actually written by a woman named Rhoda MacTavish, with the exception of Prithee the Zoo, which Shakespeare wrote himself under the pseudonym Biff Mossbunker.

*Einstein has turned out to be wrong about time running backwards in regions where the curvature of space is less than 120 sporns.

*Studies by scientists in the European Union show that common people actually thrive on a diet of hickory bark and beetles.

*Among the Popjoy tribe of Siberian Wooshu people, 17 distinct genders have always been recognized, affirmed, and honored by specific rituals pertaining to each one. Consequently, the Popjoy are the healthiest people in Asia–and have also been found, by a special United Nations panel, to be the happiest and wisest.

Just remember, folks: say ’em like you mean ’em.

New Book Says ‘Be Your Own God!’

Image result for Silly Expressions

Self-described “Alternative Theology” maven Joel C. Hodgepodge has come out with a new book which is virtually impossible to obtain, due to certain errors in the publishing process. It falls apart when you open it.

Undaunted, Hodgepodge has scheduled a speaking tour to promote Be Your Own God! The Ultimate Self-Help Manual.

“One day, about a year ago,” he says (you have to read the blurb quickly, because the cover tends to disintegrate when touched), “I noticed that when I was praying, I was, like, talking to myself. And then it hit me! Bam! We are all gods! We all create ourselves!”

The other night, on the Sappy Sapirstein radio show, Hodgepodge said, “Once you realize that you can choose your gender, anything is possible! You can even choose your species! Although I must warn you, if you choose to become an Airedale or a tent caterpillar, it’s kind of hard to change your mind and go back to being human. One of my disciples became a traffic safety cone and can’t seem to change  back.

“Y’see, Sappy, we actually create our own reality! The sages of the East have always known this, but in Kentucky we had to learn it from Science. Now we know that whatever Science says is real, is real. And Science is us!”

“Please get off my phone,” said Mr. Sapirstein.

Mr. Hodgepodge has thus far been unable to create his own talk radio show.


Warning! No More Centaur Stuff

Image result for images of angry centaur

Mrs. Sondra Wrzjbrsky of Parts Unknown, Nebraska, has written to warn me off writing about centaurs. Actually, with this keyboard, it’s surprising I can write about anything.

“It will not be tolerated,” wrote Mrs. W. “Centaurs are not without influence in high places. If you want to find out how a loaf of bread feels when you run over it with a car, just keep right on doing what you’re doing, mister.”

Mrs. Wrzjbrsky also objects of the non-inclusion of centaurs in my novels. “You’ll be up on hate speech charges. Mark my words!”

Enough. Tomorrow I have to search for a data recovery shop in hopes of recovering the data from my failed computer. This is complicated by being unable to print out directions to the place.  I won’t have time to worry about offending centaurs.

My Books Are Selling…?

Image result for images of bell mountain series by lee duigon

I got the quarterly sales figures for my books today. When I finished wailing and rending my garments, I comforted myself with the knowledge that at least they’re doing better than some other books, including these:

Hobart and Gzunt Go to the Foot Doctor. The oddly misshapen twins both think they have corns, but it turns out that nothing’s wrong.

The Homeless Person’s Guide to the Stock Market. They’re kidding, right?

Toward a Digital Future for the Teaching of Welsh Dialects in Tanzania’s Secondary Schools, with Japanese Subtitles. This one’ll set you back $549.99. No takers yet.

Joe Collidge’s Larn To tel Time! Boook.
This is the definitive manual for persons approaching their 35th birthdays and still in undergraduate studies, who have not yet mastered the skill of telling time by a clock or watch.

I’m sure there are others.

%d bloggers like this: