Tuusday, Janoary 10th, Year of the Field Mouse
Apparently, according to everyone, I fell off my horse yesterday. Apparently, everyone is stupid. Weak-willed fools. Oh hello Jimbo. How long have you been by my bedside? Since they put me here after the horsie stallion from hell and its mongrel master bewitcherer threw me off? I see. No, you’re not stupid. Yes, I know I did, but you were bewitched. No, not like the others. They were stupid. Because you knew I was thrown off. The others are saying I fell off. I suspect they are still under a spell of some sort. Wot? They’re also saying I got on that Blasted Burning Buck of Beezlebub backwards? Bell, bhey’ve bure bas bell bave beir bacts barse backwards. Er, I mean they sure as hell have their facts arse backwards. Surely. And their heads screwed on the same way too. I know what I saw. But wait a minute. There’s one thing I certainly don’t get. If I’ve been unconscious since getting tossed like a salad and you’re the first person I’ve seen, how did I know that everyone’s been saying I fell off? Argh. My. Head. Hurts. Confused. Can’t. Talk. In. Sentences. Longer. Than. A. Word…Guido. Hamwise. Barry. Pippen. Good. To. See. Ok. Wedgie. Ow. Drowsy…
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Whazzup Freddie! Looks like yer suffered a nasty knock to yer bonce there! Good thing yer very elastic pair o' shorts makes for a handy bandage. Just remember dat the next time you sing 'bout "Guido of the Nine Fingers and his Thing of Doom" in the school cafeteria. Shaddup, Hamwise! Someone git me a hankie. Got some of hiz Hershey highway on me hand - Guido.
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