"Some Cultures define themselves by their relationship to cheese."
- Benny and Joon
Well I guess it is time to go to bed.
That New Years party, it was pretty fun
However this bed, it will not stop spinning. There must be something wrong with the foundation of the house.
I shall speak to Dad about this tomorrow.
All the birds, they are dropping off the twigs head first. Some of the birds, they are exploding. What is the Miata doing in the bedroom. I shall attempt to push it down the hallway.
BBC News This is Nigel Tongs.
WHO THE HELL SET THE CLOCK RADIO FOR 5 A.M.
No one answers, as they are sound asleep. The Big Ben clock, it ticks and ticks.
Chickenloaf, she is quietly wheezing.
Chessie, she is a lump at the foot of her Mighty Mouse sleeping bag.
Snooples, she is lying upon her stomach and she has kicked off all her blankets, and one of Snooples pink pajama-clad legs, it is dangling off the side of the bed.
Pia, she is sprawled in the manner of a road kill atop her leopardskin beadspread next to her Fender bass. Pia, she is still wearing her black t-shirt and black stretch trousers with sequins all over them plus her red velvet choker and red velvet cat ears. There is a half-empty bottle of rum next to Pias bed.
Pia, she is wearing one of those black sleeping masks in the manner of Hollywood stars.
I shall peer underneath that mask.
Yup. Pias eyes, they are pinched shut.
I shall now go back to sleep.
However I cannot sleep. That is bad.
Slumped over a bowl of Bulper's Breakfast Kibbles and slurping from a large mug of dark and acidic coffee.
Experiencing peculiar sensation in which eyeballs are apparently being pulled out of head with pliers.
Nini, she is gliding blithely around the kitchen and she is humming WHEEZER BE MINE. Nini, she is wearing one of her poofy hats. This one, it is pink.
Nini, she is making Hornswoggle.
6: 12 a.m.
After Swabbling Face with Ice Cold Water
That Hornswoggle, it is for supper. Pork bits are sizzling.
I can hear those pork bits all over the house.
I believe I shall stagger into the living room.
Mind-numbing Wurlitzer music, it is emanating from the Victrola like a cloud of nerve gas.
I shall examine the record album cover in order to ascertain the perpetrator of this music.
Richard Stroker, the Famous Organist Plays The Basket Weaver's Lament and Other Favorites! This must be Ninis album.
I shall put on the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
There that is better I am listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I am stretched out upon the sofa. I am attempting to lose consciousness.
However am unable to lose consciousness.
Also Bulper's Breakfast Kibbles, they do not seem to be digesting in the proper manner.
Perhaps I shall go rummage through Charlies medicine cabinet.
Tottering down hallway in manner of elderly blind cat. Leaning against wall in order to keep hallway from sliding out of control.
Passing Bens room.
Ben, he is lying upon his Jetsons bedspread. Ben, his hind legs, they are sticking up into the air.
A horrific and rotted and dead smell, it is swirling out from Bens room.
DAD CAN I BORROW THE TRUCK. I HAVE TO RETURN THE BEER KEGS.
However, Dad, he does not answer though the bathroom door.
ALSO I THINK BEN: HE IS DEAD.
We are all standing around the doorway of Bens room in our pajamas and bathrobes.
The stench, it is awful.
Pia, she strides over to Bens bed with her red silk kimono billowing. Pia, she peels back one of Bens eyelids. Pia, she lifts Bens head by one ear.
He's about as dead as I am.
That is what Pia says.
Bens wheel of Stilton, it is beneath Bens head.
Ben, he is sitting up in bed. Ben, he is clutching his wheel of Stilton to his chest. Ben, he is beaming happily at all of us.
I had the strangest dream!
That is what Ben says.
And you were in it. And you... and you...
11 a .m.
Snooples and me, we are setting on the sofa. We are watching Space Balls.
We are watching Space Balls with the sound turned off. On account of Pia, she is sprawled upon the Turkey Rug with a dozen pillows and her leopardskin bedspread.
Wake me up and you die.
That is what Pia said 10 minutes ago.
Snooples and me, we are whispering about last nights New Years party.
THAT SURE WAS A PRETTY FUN PARTY.
yeah that sure was a pretty fun party.
Snooples and Chessie, they are holding theirselves and they are hopping. Pia, she is banging savagely upon the bathroom door.
Snooples and Chessie, they are bundled up in their snowsuits. They are clutching their new Flexible Flyers.
Charlie, he has donned his gray woolen shovel cap. He is wrapping his scarf around his neck.
Charlie, he is taking Snooples and Chessie sledding.
Shambling around the house in a light coma.
I shall now go shovel the steps. For purposes of obtaining oxygen.
What is that enormous primitive drawing which someone has created upon the snow-covered lawn with their boots. There appears to be a enormous word that perhaps explains the large drawing.
I guess I will shovel the steps.
That Hornswoggle, it is bubbling and blurping upon the stove.
ACTUALLY I AM NOT CERTAIN THAT I AM IN THE MOOD FOR HORNSWOGGLE.
Nonsense. That is what Nini says.
PERHAPS WE SHOULD JUST SIP WATER. AS SOME OF US ARE STILL HUNG OVER.
Hornswoggle replaces valuable electrolytes. That is what Nini says.
Pia, she is dumping spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her coffee. Pia, she is leafing absently through the Daily Bugler.
Pia, she is still in her silk kimono. Pia, she has a towell wrapped around her ears.
Says here cats suck the breath out of helpless babies. Let's go to the mall later and have some fun.
Now Nini, she is chopping up dead sardines, guts and eyeballs and all.
I believe I shall step outside.
Observing with large magnifying glass the activities in the neighborhood underneath the Spiarea bushes.
Several muskrats wearing thick sweaters with reindeers on the front, they are sweeping up the parking lot of the Porky Pine's Irish Pub. Those muskrats, they are sweeping confetti and party hats and fizzlers into a large and colorful pile.
Those muskrats, they are clomping around in heavy green barn boots with numerous jangling buckles.
One of the muskrats, he has tossed a cigarette onto the pile of confetti and party hats and fizzlers.
That pile of confetti and party hats and fizzlers. It has bursted into flame.
Those muskrats, they are leaning upon the handles of their push brooms. They appear to be amused by the conflagration.
Now those muskrats, they are pulling some old wooden pallets from off the back of their pickup trucks. They are tossing those old wooden pallets onto the fire.
Now those muskrats, they are carryng a old sewing machine over their heads. They are tossing it onto the fire.
The Tooney Brothers, they have ambled out of the pub with their pints of ale. The Tooney Brothers, they are drinking toasts to the conflagration.
The Mink who runs the furrier, he has arrived. He is wearing a nice raccoon coat.
Some Chinchillas on little black motorcycles, they have buzzed in with the wind blowing their fur. I did not know Chinchillas lived around here.
Several dozen mice wearing little woolen scarfs and several pairs of socks upon their foots, they are crouched around the fire. They are warming their paws.
Everybody is roasting hot dogs and passing around chicken sandwiches and steaming mugs of ale. Charlie and Chickenloaf and Nini and Snooples and Chessie and Ben, they are serving bowls of hot Hornswoggle.
This Hornswoggle, it is pretty good.
Some woodchucks, they are heaving a ugly plaid sofa onto the fire.
We are yelling Yay.
Now we are singing AULD LANG ZYNE. Now We are singing RINGING IN THE PEACHES. Now we are singing OLD DANGLER WAS A PUP ONCE.
Well I guess it is time to go to bed.