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Monday, July 7, 2008

Battle of Maldon Recital Memoirs

That means you!


I once drew the Éire of the Irish eyer. She: none other than [censored] who lectured me in languages at an institution of lower learning. She bade me translate and I did: Some fat dude, I said, alofted his sword and noted that he had the Norse pinned between the Irish cliffs -- as spare and severe as the face of [censored] -- AHEM! -- and the Hard Rock Cafe. But the Viking leader appealed to the furnace of the fat dude's fairness and the fat dude allowed the Vikings to stew until Tide Subside, so there could be a fight. "Salami," he yelled, which meant Discount Carpet, Hello, and Family Values, in one word. It evolved towards, or from, the Hebrew "Shalom" and towards or from the call to supper, known as Salami Aleikum. Well, I went on, the tide subsided and the Vikings climbed toward the English King, there, at Essexshire-on-Schrod, he hadn't moved, and his arm -- alofting the sword -- was mighty taxed. His name! demanded [censored]. Uh, I said: Ruddy the Reddy? Unruddy the Unreddy? [censored] held aloft her yardstick and crashed it whapwhap on me knucklebacks.

The Vikings plundered Booty, and plundered Booty, for there were two kinds of Booty: the Onion, and -- That's not in the text, shouted [censored] and brought down the whapwhap. Some Brits painted themselves blue a while, whereas the Vikings rarely felt depressed, for they had carried aboard boxes of Uncle Abe's Sardine Kit and Uncle Abe's Venison Kit. The Vikings returned to Denmark, and emigrated, eventually, to Minnesota, where the Venison Kit finally made sense. Meantime, descendents of the descent of the decent few who'd been beheaded at the behest of the King Viking, formed a support group. They met to discuss fears of canoes and assorted dugouts, the panic they felt at the slightest butter knife "quickly dipt" into oleo. Well, I said, that's about it, except the part where they cook Brown Sauce for the priest, I think his name was Buckle, Mickey Buckle. Bra-VO, said [censored] in a way that made me think of Seagrams, second, and bosoms, first. She served tea and animal crackers. Handed me an "A" and a "Minus." She said: Sum assembly rechoired.

12 comments:

  1. I think they are filming this story as we speak, with Veronica Hamel as Booty, Charles Haid as Family Values,
    Bruce Weitz as Brits, Taurean Blacque as Kuncklebacks, Sonny Rollins as Oleo, and David Caruso as Minus.

    Sincerely,
    Thin Blue Hump

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  2. In the end each clan on the outlying coasts beyond the whale-road had to yield to him and begin to pay tribute... paet waes god cyning! ...

    Haven't we seen this picture before?

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  3. Veronica Hamel as Booty, and Veronica Hamel as Booty.

    No, this picture has never been seen before, except in cases of primate control. I mean climate control.

    My jaw hurts. I think I've got uh hangnail.

    ---BA

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  4. How about Morris Day and the Time: "O / Leo / Leo."

    But sure, Sonny Rollins not only as Oleo, but Alfie, and Alfeo, too.

    BA

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  5. In this battle, it sounds like I'd be on both sides. Oh that would be a drag, to have to shoot yourself down.

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  6. What is a Venison Salami Kit? My ancestors never spoke of this. Tee hee. Mira

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  7. The Battle of Maldon is a morality tale -- and it is body painting.

    A venison kit makes small venisons (denizens of venisons) suitable for tabletop display.

    ----BA

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  8. Listen. This is brilliant. I am so proud of you for being such a fine translator. You just got one detail incorrect: The descendents of the descent of the decent few who'd been beheaded at the behest of the King Viking did not form a support group. They formed a meetup.com group, and we all know those groups are rarely supportive. In fact, they are kind of meet-uppity, if you ask me.

    Not that you asked me.

    Listen to this also, and then do what I say: Join twitter.com, where it’s not only acceptable but encouraged for Twitterers to both be witty and also hawk their wares, and by wares I mean their new blog posts. You’ll also need tinyurl.com, though, to make your permakinks into wee permalinks that can fit in the constrained space Twitter allows you per tweet.

    But do it, seriously. You would Twittertain me to no end, and it’s a lot easier to tweet about a new post than to e-mail your buds about it. (I like to think that, in the wacky world of virtual friendships, I count as one of your buds, since I’ve known you for more than 2 minutes.)

    And no, Twitter is not paying me to recruit people.

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  9. You should be on Facebook too.

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  10. I ain't want to be no twit, tho. But all righty. I'm on vacation in Cali right now but I'll twitter twatter later on, upon me return. I'm on facebook. We're friends. You just remarried your husband there, I think. ----BA

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  11. We're already friends on Facebook? I must have friended you in a flurry, because I don't remember that. At. All.

    Oh wait ~ I totally remember that. It's how I found your blog, and the finding made me so giddy. (I am a sucker for good writing.)

    Finding your blog obviously usurped friending you on Facebook. Or did you friend me? How unclear it all has become.

    My bad. And oopsie!

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  12. No bad and no oopsie. It's good to be friends, friended, and friendly. I look forward to more of same. Cheers, -----BA

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