I'm Anti-Christ, Damned Moreover

Got a jump-start on the practical jokes for 2005, this morning: made my sister touch "moss-fabric". (Moss-fabric is that ridiculously light, soft terry-cloth stuff you get--the kind that's made entirely of polyester, and feels perpetually wet and mouldy.) Anyhow, Mother had sent me a dressing-gown made from this stuff, so the first thing I did this morning was invite my sister to "Touch this dressing-gown! Touch it! Touch it!" She was all "Auuuugh!", and I was all "Ha, ha, ha!"--score one for Team Bad Rat. Revenge, I should imagine, will be forthcoming, but let it be known that I got in the first one, and it was a doozy.

Mother also sent a list of instructions as to how we should spend our vacation, faulty information on my sister's flight time, a very decent yellow sweater, and an alexandrine stone on a chain, which once belonged to my grandmother.

Also sent, although not by Mother--a postcard of questionable character (now tacked up on my wall, right above the big bronze rats and the rat skelly):

I particularly liked the "It was muridaer!" line, although the sticklebacked ol' pedant in me insists upon pointing out that squirrels are members of the Sciuridae family*.

Nonetheless, getting a postcard was a momentous event. When I was staying at Gail's last month, I couldn't help but be moved to envy by the small postcard army that's taken over her kitchen. "Why haven't I got any postcards?" I complained. "My kitchen is empty and boring. It isn't fair. I ought to have postcards, and all."

"Then, you should stop throwing them out," said the Voice of Reason.

"Oh, piss off, you." And just like that, it was resolved that I would hang onto any future postcards, and possibly even stick them up in the kitchen. (Of course, now that I'm keeping them, probably no-one'll send me any, but it's worth a try.)

Taking my cue from the Book of Keys, here's a handful of random limericks, written for a thread on an Internet forum:

FRECKLES

A mole on the arse is unsightly
And you can't take a willy-wart lightly
A freckle-sprayed nose
Is all right, I suppose
But I come by my perfect skin rightly**

BLUSH

There once was a jay with a crush
On a Peloponnesian thrush***.
The scandal, they say
Drove the dodo away
And gave ol' Cock Robin his blush!

ANTICHRIST

A doddering fellow from Dover
Once had the Jehovies come over
"I'm sorry," he said
With a shake of his head:
"I'm anti-Christ; damnèd moreover."

* Except that, since this is a mouse, and I am, apparently, blind (man, its tail is in plain view!), the postcarder was right and I am WRONG!

** As in "Yeah, right!"

*** Not, to the best of my knowledge, a real bird. I just wanted to use "Peloponnesian" in a sentence.