Monday, May 3, 2010

On The Couch With Sock Monkey. And A Penguin.

WO: So, does it talk?

SM: Don’t be silly. Cuddly penguins can’t talk.

WO: But cuddly monkeys can? I don’t get it — what’s the logic, the universal law?

SM: Simply that I’m not cuddly. And besides, you don’t always need a universal law for things to work out.

WO: Like what?

SM: Like taste in footwear, evidently.

WO: Hey — I only put these on to impress you.

SM: Then consider me impressed — but only in the same sense as the skull of a baby seal when the culler’s club descends—

WO: You’ve made your point. So, penguins and baby seals aside, can we get on?

SM: Sure. What do you want to talk about today?

WO: Goats.

SM: Goats?

WO: That’s right.

SM: As in ‘furry animals not dissimilar to sheep’, ‘furry animals not dissimilar to sheep’, or ‘furry animals not dissimilar to sheep’?

WO: The middle one.

SM: Okay, so what’s the problem?

WO: Ever since I mentioned goats on my blog, I can’t stop thinking about them. Night and day, day and night. It’s driving me crazy.

SM: So, a disconcerting combination of nightmares and dreams? You want them, but you don’t want them?

WO: If only wanting came into it. That way, I could stop it. Stop them.

SM: So let me get things straight before we go any further. Are these goats imaginary or real?

WO: Real, 100% real. What do you think I’m doing here?

SM: Okay, I hear what you’re saying — but don’t be too dismissive of the potential misery imaginary goats can cause. Look what happened to Peter Gabriel’s face.

WO: Hey — whatever capacity for potential misery imaginary goats possess, it’s nothing compared to the real thing. Especially when you’ve got the builders in.

SM: Explain?

WO: Aside from the gnawing at the furniture thing, the constant defecating, the noise, all that stuff that drives me craaaaaaaaaaaazy? The moment the builders come through the door it’s like some herbivorous Jekyll and Hyde scenario — all tinkling bells, can I get you a tea or coffee? and grinny grin grins all over their chinny chin chins.

SM: Do you want to know what I think?

WO: That is the idea...

SM: I think you ought to be grateful.

WO: Whaaaat?

SM: That’s right. Grateful for all the help during a time of stress. Grateful for the cheery, smiley faces and the relaxing sound of bells. And grateful they stop all that defecating nonsense whenever the builders are there, which I’m guessing is nine till five, right?

WO: More or less.

SM: So, more or less, they do it while you’re asleep, so what’s the problem?

WO: What’s the problem? I’ll tell you what’s the problem—

SM: Okay, but it will have to wait till next time.

WO: Are we done already?

SM: ‘Fraid so. But look, I’ll walk out with you today. I need some stuff from the supermarket. We can chat on the stairs.

WO: Thanks.

Penguin: “Cuddly penguins can’t talk?" What the hell do they know?


Old Kitty said...

Oh if only that particular couch could also join in..


Why is it hard to carry on a conversation with a goat?

Because they're always butting in.

Take care

jjdebenedictis said...

Those socks! Those socks! I must have them!

They will go well with my fez.

Robin S. said...

Ha! Plus, those socks are so alien!

fairyhedgehog said...

Those socks with those shoes are eyewatering.

So we have someone new joining the cast of this blog. I look forward to hearing more from the penguin.

Mother (Re)produces. said...

Eyewatering? Is it the smell?

After all that, I'd like to hear what the socks have to say...

writtenwyrdd said...

A friend of mine rised fainting goats. That might be just what you need: goats that, when startled, flop to the ground, still as a board. (Also useful for traversing deep puddles and narrow ravines.)

Craaaazy footwear, there, btw. And you turned down my hot pink Crocs...

Whirlochre said...

Old Kitty
Thanks for warping my face with that one...

Are you putting together a wacko superhero costume...Weird Taste In Clothes Woman?

Oddly enough, they smell too — some bizarre chemical like dry cleaning fluid. maybe it's Girly of Whirly's contact poison...

The penguin is definitely up for some action.

Having been filled with my feet, I'm not sure they're going to be capable of saying anything for a while.

I'm beginning to regret that Croc decision already.

writtenwyrdd said...

You know, you could always go for the shoes (sandals) I saw a couple of days ago, which were GOAT FEET, hooves and all, hoof painted gold.

I those surpass the Crocs.

writtenwyrdd said...
I think those are the shoes there, but I cannot double check as the site is blocked at work.

Ello said...

Dude - those shoes. I am just shaking my head at you because words actually fail me...

And those socks - please send them to JJ. I don't actually think they were meant to be socks.

Listen to the SM he is the voice of reason.

Bernita said...

Those shoes glare at me...

Whirlochre said...

Sadly I can't get your link to work, so I'll just have to make do with the disturbing mental image.

Ello & Bernita
The shoes are c/o a late 80s Whirl, btw. I wouldn't wear them now — even to attend an unveiling of JJ's fez...

fairyhedgehog said...

Whirl, you did wear them and in public! On this blog.

They'd look fine with some different socks.

And the socks would look fine without shoes, although not as good as your other socks.

Whirlochre said...

And so speaks a woman of taste...

Kiersten White said...

Can I borrow your penguin? Or at the very least a nice pair of socks.

Then again, penguins, like socks, fall into the category of "Things That Should Never Be Got Second Hand."