by Mary Tompsett
Morning Prayer: O Goddess of Stupidity, look upon me, thy clueless servant, with divine patience. Thou knowest well my ever-lurking immaturity and nonsense, yet thee rebuke me with naught but a fearsome eye-roll. Bless my poor judgment and impulsiveness, that every “Oops!” and “Uh-oh” may bear witness to the folly that doth color mine days. Amen. Y muchas gracias.
Well, I attended my first SEWERfest. Thinking it was a 20k fun run through the city’s pipes, I’d trained for weeks in full haz-mat gear and took online classes in alligator wrestling. Turns out, it’s a local fair with exotic reptiles. Waiting in line, I was whopperly afeared I’d be turned away for not looking more “Goth.” Luckily, a sudden rain sent my cheap mascara cascading into facial stripes that would’ve wowed the rock group, Kiss. Inside, I boogied past spiders, scorpions and snakes galore! I bought only a conservative t-shirt (cartoon of a boa constrictor emerging from a toilet), but I did cuddle a yellow-eyed lizard the size of a dachshund. Speaking of cuddles, welcome to my advice column, DILLIGS: “Does It Look Like I Give a Sh*t?!?”
QUESTION: Can you explain what circular logic is? DILLIGS: Ooh, my favorite kind! Ponder this: In the olden days various cultures offered sacrifices to their gods. Some sacrifices were lambs. Some sacrifices were virgins. But…not all lambs were virgins. Yeah. Some of them played around. Regardless, all the lambs were eventually toast, but a few rascals went out smiling. And yet, not all grinning lambs had gotten lucky. Some just had gas. No doubt, the gods rolled their eyes—no, not in a full circle. Don’t be ridiculous.
QUESTION: I’m offended by the blatant sexuality nowadays. No morals! Help! DILLIGS: Relax, grumpy-pants, maybe smoke some weed. Take some positive action, like paying women for each pair of pale show-all leggings they surrender. Then to recoup your cash payout, weave the leggings together and sell the resulting “wall” panels to Canada as border protection. From us.
Better yet, doodle! While waiting for my food in an Italian restaurant, I noticed the paper placemats featured an Italy map bordered with graphic depictions of Venus, David and other nude dudes. Facing such depravity, I simply had to clean my glasses. But I grabbed a pen and within seconds David was tucked into a Speedo. I also added a few sprouts of chest hair. Well, by then I was on a roll, and gave the little guy a lengthy olive oil rub. Hey, the cruet was there on the table. Be alert for sassy wordplay with Italian cities as I now describe my doodles on the armless Venus: I drew a fringed biker bra to cover her bare “Naples,” and attached sweat shields at her armpits. Over her exposed “Ponte a Poppi” and bulging “Bologna” I created leggings in a classy snakeskin-pattern—identical to those I surrendered for cash after SEWERfest. Ah, what is life without a bit of lunacy? Rest easy, dear reader, for Princess Run Amok has mumbled her morning prayer and is on the loose.
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