"Foiled By the Letter H!" and "Judging My Granddaughter"

For nearly two weeks yon passing I have been unable to access my computer access web networking blogspot, and for this, Dear Reader, I apologize. The problem was that in the night a spyman must have come into my house without permission and replaced the power button on my computer with the H key and then broke it, for I have spent many hours of many days pressing holding down the H button, and the computer would not go on. Only today when I complained of lack of sleep from holding down the H button did my godson Paul point out that the power button is not in the center of the keyboard, but altogheter elsewhere. So now I’m confused as to the spyman's intentions, but I will get used to that. The good news is that the computer is on.

This has been a traumatifying time for me, because the letter H has long been one letter that I do not trust with any rigor therein or whereby. And to spend long hours pressing it and staring at it has furthered my frustration and ill feelings against it. Some say it’s just a letter, but I see it for all of which what that it is whence and hitherto therefore. Like two vertical golems of darkness bound together at the waist stands the letter H, pouting in a corner, ready to pounce on me. Think of all the bad H words. “Hatred”, “Hell”, and “Hahahaha!” (as in a maniacal laugh) all come immediately to mind. But it is a subversive letter as well, hiding in words like “Happy” and "Heaven" and “Hello Honey, how are you? I hold your hair in a horse harness,” which are perfectly innocent until you notice the golems with their bad attitudes. I just try not to make eye contact, hoping they will get bored and leave me alone. But holding the key down for hours has made me cross to the darkside for longer than I had hoped, and I now find that I’m using the letter H more than ever before, which could become a problem. Stop it, please. Thank you.

So in addition to that, new things are happening. The weather is getting colder which is leading to aches, pains, confusion and I no longer sleep in my tub. Therefore I have lots more time to make my business phone calls. I have caught up on my necessary phonecalling through March, so I decided to make a call for next May.

My godson Paul’s goddaughter Brandy (I think of her as a granddaughter) is in the Girl Scouting of America Organization Agency, and their troop will have a beauty competition when the weather gets nice again so that they can stop fighting over who is the prettiest. This is an instrumental step in the lives of these young girls, because the winner will get into the college of her dreams and be a doctor or a homemaker or something. I care very much about Brandy and want her to do well, so I agreed to help with the organizing of said pageant. A phone call to a professionally judgmental person can be listened to in the player below.

Personal Train Me, Please

Dance class stopped plodding along today. Due to various frightening events in my everyday life, I have only made it to one class and I spent most of it getting my head stuck and unstuck and stuck again in my costume dress's arm hole. I think that perhaps I have put the dessert cart in front of the meal horse on this one, because now I am fretting that perhaps my body is not all painted up and readied for public display and liftings without hernias ensuing. Also, my head may have a larger circumference than I bargained for.

I asked my godson, Paul, to get my money back from the place as he is more frightening with his voice than I am with mine. (Although I did once portray a rabid wolf who ate children in a school play, and my performance had everyone depressed and angry for weeks afterwards, but that is neither here nor over there.) It took a lot of shouting, but Paul was able to get the money back in exchange for I never take another class there and that Paul stays 500 meters from their offices at all times. All of today’s shoutings have got me all cramped up in my stomach, wrists, neck, back, feet, abs, spleen, taste buds, cheek puffs, shoulder humps, yarn-bucklers and skull cap, which I am none to the pleased with by or of. Nevertheless, I can't remember a more beautiful day.

I still plan to take some dance classes (somewhere else) at some point, but first I must get into repair. Parts of me that are loosened need to be firmly stowed away and tucked under where they belong. “Keep your arms and all other flapping parts inside the train at all times,” a conductor man would surely say to me.

So I placed a call to a gymnastics man who could train me into tonefulness and versalability. The call was recorded by me to ensure personal homeland security and that quality customer service is being enjoyed by all, not absconded henceto and hitherforth.

Press play on the player below to hear my phone call.

I Elude the Snares of an Evil Canoe Heist!

What an awful weekend.

First off, the futon has sustained another injury caused my godson, Paul, himself. There is a gash in the cushion where the fabric used to be. I checked my godson’s pockets, expecting to find a shiv or a broken glass bottle with which for him to use in his normal barfights. To my shock, all I found was a comb, so evidently he is turning even that into a weapon with which to gash my furniture and nice things. With his hair condition, he really only would need a wet towel for grooming and danderfiling, thus causing me more suspicion directed at his person. I did not question him on the comb as I did not want to stir the pot of frogs.

But the second bad thing began when I heard my godson place a phone call to a canoe rental company. It began innocently enough. He had invited me to a reunion of his family which I agreed to join, only for the purpose of protecting my name against embarrassments of mine that he may have chosen to mention. Here is the call he placed to the canoe boat rental dock place.



Now, I respect and was impressed with his thriftiness, however, mere minutes after placing this phone call, I heard him chatting with the postman and laughing about tossing me in the water. I imagine that he would like to see what my hair looks like when it is wet, and I was determined for him not to see me like that, so I called back the canoe place to ensure my protection. You can hear the call below.

EPILOGUE

I averted certain drenching by screaming and smoking constantly throughout the entire boat trip. I had alerted the people in the canoe office that if they no longer heard screams or saw my smoke signals, they should call the police. My scheme with the canoe house ended up being for naught because Paul’s family cancelled the trip after declaring that the day was “too loud and musty” to be with on the canoe. I personally thought it was a beautiful temperature, and every time I stopped screaming I could hear the lovely babblings of the brook in which we were astreamed. Their inability to detect ideal outdoor conditions furthers my suspicions that Paul’s family is nothing but drunkards.

Lie Detecting

Pardon the intrusion in my posts of late, but I have been occuppied with an unexpected houseguest. My godson Andrew is in town as his Houston job has dried up and he is looking for funding. He stops in every 3 years and 2 months to see how I'm doing and whether there is a space on the futon for him. Of course there always is, but I am a smidgeon worried this time as I do not have a duvet this time around, since he ruined the last one with his drunkeries.

His name Andrew and he has always never been up to no good. I love him dearly, but he has a mischievous streak of which I am none too pleased. He is not a bad son (I call him my son), although he was never very good at origami or any of the folding arts I taught him. It's just that he is often angered, sometimes on my behalf.

He is not a responsive gift recipient and when I presented him with a sausage cheese egg pickle and sausage basket, he snorted at it, not like a pig, but like a non-plussed burro. He is the only one who has not appreciated the baskets that I give, and this was of course offensive to me.

I have argued with him to stay off the booze train, and he says he is cooperative, but last night I was not sure. I wanted to be sure, so I attempted to enlist the help of a lie detector test. I was thinking that perhaps being hooked up to one and the subsequent flashings of colorful bulbs might make him nervous enough to not get on the wagon again. The rental of such a device necessitated a phone call, of which I recorded, and of which you can listen to on the player below.

Too Much Pudding Information

When I bumped into an acquaintance at bingo the other night I was appalled to heaer her go on an on regarding a hair she found in her dessert. First off, the church has financial troubles as it is without her raising a stink to boycott the chocolate pudding. Second, in mentally selecting a culprit for the hair, the conversation drew all attention on her as she is thinning in the back and the pudding was resting gently behind her for several minutes before she partook. Thirdly of all, it is very unappetizing to hear of such things from other people. Other people’s sophomoric body sheddings should not be shared with by me. I may have lost the bonus board as a direct result of her squeameries.

But on the up and up, what I wanted to tell you about was of my stool samplings of lasterday yester. I had belief of tapeworms that may have been rollicking out down up in there and so I visited my doctor who checked it all out with big metal tools and lights, slapped me on the back and said I was good to go. He gave homework to wrangle up a sample of a dirty culture from my droppings, but I had troubles with the home stool sample kit he gave me, so I placed the phone call below.

Press play on the player below to hear the phone call.

Dancing With Gentlemen

Inspired by the events of which unfolded in front of me at the Pickle Sausage Basket Cheese Festivalathon from a week ago, I have been finding myself reeling in starstruck dizzyness, and feel I must get back on my feet to pursue my dream of which is of becoming a dancer of which. The children of Lawndale Elementary really inspired me to believe that the children are the future... of dance.

To be a dancer, you must have 8 items, traits, and personabilities: (1) grace, (2) persona, (3) good inner-ear modulation, (4) hands that can stick straight downwards, (5) toeless shoes, (6) a big hat to capture the audiences attention and dreams, (7) people skills, and (8) a knowledge of dance steps and animal life. Thankfully I have 7 out of the 8 things above, so I am well on my way to becoming an all well and good ballet dancer. Once my hissing, spitting ear is cleared up, I'll be as right as a rainmaker.

So I bought an ear enema kit and I kindly called for ballet lessons. To ensure my homeland security and that quality customer service is received and had by all, I have recorded the phone call and you can play it now in case I ever need witnesses in court, you will be the one. The phone call is below.

Alright, honey. Bye-bye.

Press play on the player below to hear the phone call.

Regrettably Hypnotized

I have for the last 5 days and a couple hours have had quite a nerve-wracking week. A stage hypnotist has altered the weekly routine that had worked so well for me for the past many years. On Friday I was at a birthday party to celebrate the annual aging of an acquaintance and I was elected by the crowd to appear on stage with a hypnotism man who was on stage making jokes and singing songs and putting coins in his mouth to hide them from me. I thought hypnotism would be interesting and hoped it would get me in touch with my inner void so I could mine it for my history.

Unfortunately, the outcome was not made in this fashion. I don’t remember my time on stage, but I believe I was made to do harmful things because for the last week, anytime I pass a wooden door, I involuntarily bang my head on it. This has caused some additional confusion in my latest week. After five days of this numblesuch, I thought it best to contact a professional hypnotizer man to help out. As always, I recorded the call to ensure customer service was being had by me, and also for purposes to protect my homeland security. If your ears are not faulty, you can hear the occasional bang on a door as I pound my head on it.

Alright, honey. Bye bye.

Press play on the player below to hear the phone call.

I Need Some Welding Assistance, Please.

Today I was very frightened by some things I saw when I was outside. First off, a man with a badge on his arm came to my door to give me what he called "mail". I did not trust him, as I have known my mail carrier for 7 years now, and this man was taller than the one that I'm used to. He handed me a stack of envelopes, and while they look like my regularly expected bills and adverts, I cannot verify with all certainty that they are not forgeries. I have a magnifying glass with which to look at them closer, but since I am not an expert, I decided to take them to the crime lab.

I got in the car to deliver them, but the key would not fit in the ignition. Although I live alone, it seemed someone had switched the keys on my keychain to replace my car key with my wine cabinet key. The car would not be started by a wine cabinet key, and so their sabotage was for a moment successful. I then caught the problem and was able to find the proper key for the car, just two keys away from the wine key.

On my way to the crime lab, a woman on a bicycle jumped her bicycle up onto and over my hood and cab of the car. This startled me quite a bit, and as I looked in the rear view mirror, she was pretending to be hurt on the ground behind me, but I could not be fooled. Still, I was becoming shakier by the minute.

I stopped at Walgreens to pick out a sausage, pickle, egg and cheese basket for my grandnephew's baptism, and while perusing the aisles, I saw some scuba gear on display for the summer. The sight of the scuba gear gave me quite a stir, as I am not accustomed to the underwaters or people who are familiar with these types of frightening masks. (I could not find the sausage pickle egg and cheese basket.)

I never did make it to the crime lab, either, because while I was driving I discovered that someone had moved the sidewalk into the middle of the street. So once I hit that bench with the ad for the Alderman on it, I was too tired to figure it all out. I walked the rest of the way home and immediately called a nice welding man to come over promptly and weld my doors shut.

I have posted the phone call on this blog. You can play it on the player below. I'm sorry the quality is crackly. The phone must have sensed my anxiety.

Press play on the player below to hear the phone call.

A phone call from today

I tape all of my phone conversations, because I don't trust anyone, and to ensure proper customer service is had by all. Below is a transcript of my telecommunications with a lovely gentleman from this afternoon. (Unfortunately, since my recorder was on the fritz during this phone call, I had to write it all out in Gregg Shorthand as we spoke.)

JARED

B&B Carpets, this is Jared. How can I help you.

MADGE

Yes, hello, Jared. Do you deal with carpets there?

JARED

Yes.

MADGE

I was wondering, can you get gum out of carpet.

JARED

Uh, yes ma'am, we can do that.

MADGE

Okay, good. And if it's several pieces of gum, you can do that, too?

JARED

That shouldn't be a problem, we deal with pretty much any stain or substance that might get caught into carpet, uh-huh.

MADGE

Okay, there's like 8 pieces of gum in the carpet. Is that okay? I have a God-daughter who is going through a bit of a gum phase right now. So you don't have any problem with that? With her bad habit?

JARED

I suppose if the gum is ground in there real-- how long has the gum been in there?

MADGE

Three weeks.

JARED

Yeah, that's not going to be a problem. I doubt the gum would have had time to really stain it, and we can pretty much take all the goo out of there.

MADGE

So you have no problem with it?

JARED

No.

MADGE

With my granddaughter's habit?

JARED

No.

MADGE

I think it's excessive. Her mother should control that.

JARED

That may be. Would you like us to come out there.

MADGE

Do I need to vacuum first?

JARED

No ma'am, we'll take care of that.

MADGE

Because there's a lot of dust and paper and some mothballs and sandwich crumbs and salad leaves and things all alike and akin to what I'm saying now. So that's not a problem.

JARED

No ma'am, we'll vacuum it and--

MADGE

How much do you charge?

JARED

How large is your carpet?

MADGE

Not that big. Just the size of my living room and half of the kitchen.

JARED

What are the dimensions?

MADGE

No larger than a barn loft. Possibly a lot smaller.

JARED

Do you know the square footage?

MADGE

It's rectangular in shape and size and I certainly wouldn't be able to walk more than 27 or 28 paces in it long-wise. Not even close to 27 or 28 paces I would say with some certainty.

JARED

... okay ... Maybe like 12 by 20?

MADGE

Sure. Let's call it a deal.

JARED

Well, we'll have to see when we get there, but a 12 by 20 room, depending on what all features you want with the cleaning would be anywhere from $125 to $700. Are you just looking for a basic wash?

MADGE

Sure.

JARED

That'd be about $125.

MADGE

Okay, that sounds reasonable. And I assume that's per piece of gum and scrap of wood and tinsel and if there are any pennies or watermelon seeds as well?

JARED

No no no, we just charge you for the whole carpet. We don't charge the way you're asking.

MADGE

So you're saying you will only charge me per hole in the carpet?

JARED

No, I said "whole" carpet, as in "the entire carpet".

MADGE

Right. It has gum all ground up. That God-daughter of mine is going to be the next Typhoid Mary, don' t you tink?

JARED

I'm not--

MADGE

Okay, so you'll just charge me for the gum, not any of the lumber bits or condiment drippings or blood.

JARED

We will take care of the entire carpet. I can't guarantee you over the phone how it will look. That depends on the carpet. But somebody who comes out there will be able to give you a rough estimate.

MADGE

Okay, but over the phone you can tell me that it will be at least $125 per gum incident, possibly more.

JARED

No. Ma'am, it will not cost that much.

MADGE

I'm very satisfied with your responses.

JARED

Thank you.

MADGE

I feel you have been helpful and thorough, and I trust you to clean my carpet.

JARED

Alright, well thank you for your trust. Let me just get your information and we'll schedule a time--

MADGE

And, Jared, tell me, and be honest: Do you get gum out of hair, too?

JARED

No, ma'am.

MADGE

I'm going to have to call you back later then. First things first. Can you transfer me to a barber, please?

JARED

This is a carpet cleaning place. I don't know any barbers.

MADGE

You never got a haircut?

JARED

Of course I do, what does that--

MADGE

Transfer me to him, then.

EPILOGUE

He continued to refuse to connect me with his barber, I became adamant and belligerent, and it ended with me giving his manager a very unfavorable review of our conversation. Now I'll be sleeping in gum again tonight, thanks to that kid. (My bed is piled with things that I cannot get under, so I'm sleeping on the gum floor, hence my due interest in cleaning it.)