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NASA is launching a rocket to the moon. On board there are two pigs and Kiki, a stunning blonde. When the rocket is outside the stratosphere, the first stage drops off.
Contact is made: “Houston here, Pig 1, Pig 1, do you read us? Over.”
“Oink, oink, here Pig 1, read you loud and clear.”
“Pig 1, do you still know your instructions?”
“Yes, when we get to the moon, I press the red button to initiate the moon landing. Over.”
“That’s right. Over and out.”
They go on until the rocket separates its booster stage.
“Hello, Pig 2? Come in please.”
“Oink, oink, here Pig 2, read you loud and clear.”
“OK, Pig 2 do you remember your instructions?”
“Yes, when we’ve landed on the moon and are ready to leave, I press on the green button to initiate the launch program.”
“That’s right, Pig 2. Over and out.”
An hour later, when the rocket has achieved the correct speed the last stage drops off as planned. Ground control contacts the astronauts again.
“Houston here, Kiki, come in. Kiki do you read us?”
“Kiki here, reading you loud and clear.”
“Kiki, do you remember your instructions?”
“Yes,” Kiki says, “I feed the two pigs and keep my hands off any buttons.”

‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual
Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic
activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential,
including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood
burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconcious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically
through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal had coverings,
about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon
the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a
cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity
from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise
source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
fenestration, nothing thereupon that the lunar brilliance without,
reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said rival that of the solar meridian itself –
thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a
miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive
specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged
so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have
more vertignious velocity than patriotic alar predators, he
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – “Now
Dasher, now Dancer…” et al. – guiding them to the uppermost level of
our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the
concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved –
with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by wary of the
smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from
oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls
thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodius
cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal
were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the
latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common
loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like
small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water. Clenched firmly
between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes forming a
tenuous elllipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative
seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly
mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of
impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in
short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian
the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite
every effort to refrain from so being.
By rapidly lowering and than elevating one eyelid and rotating his
slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from the aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle.
Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt aboutface,
placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory
organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and
forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance,
directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral
sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar
aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing
portions of a common weed.
But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to
his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: “Ecstatic Yuletide
the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my
sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly
pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.

Let’s face it — English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant
nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins
weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are
candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that
quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is
neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t
groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the
plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index,
2 indices?

Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you
comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch
of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats
vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, perhaps
you bote your tongue?

Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum
for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and
play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that
run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and
wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while
quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell
one day and cold as hell another.

Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are
absent? Have you ever seen a horseful carriage or a strapful gown? Met a
sung hero or experienced requited love? Have you ever run into someone who
was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable? And where are all those
people who ARE spring chickens or who would ACTUALLY hurt a fly?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house
can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out
and in which an alarm clock goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the
creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That
is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are
out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but
when I wind up this essay, I end it.

Q: Have you heard about the new Mechanical Whore?
A: She gives a licking and keeps on ticking.

A herd of buffalo can move only as fast as the slowest buffalo, and when
the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that
are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole,
because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by
the regular culling of the weakest members. In much the same way the human
brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive
intake of alcohol, we all know, kills off brain cells, but naturally it
attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular
consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, constantly making
the brain a faster and more efficient machine.

© 2015