“Got to get me a bettah view. Climb up on the monolith – Damn! If only I could climb its sheer face!
(one of those Misters could lift me up to the top. I mean, they feed me, but please! So needy!)
“So in need of the… petting! The loving! The ‘hands-on’ stuff.
“It’s smothering!
“I told my analyst about it but she says they’re just like that.”
“Meanwhile, them Sun-nappers have gotten away again! I’ll have to pick up the trail again tomorrow after my Sun bath.”
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
Detective Smee’s Diary Part II: How’d ya like to Bet, Noir?
“7 PM: Sunset has loosened its siren song hold on me and I am free to nose.
“The Quiet Number at the end of the bar beckons, but I’m on a case: the case deals with a mysterious disappearance – the disappearance of the Sun!
“I jump to the flower box closest to where the sun was last seen. It’s full of green plants The Misters consider somewhat important – but not much, since I rest there often [ed.’s note: The Smitty refers to arugula that The Misters still have hope to recover for harvest].
“Who’d take the sun – and why? And why is it dumped back on the docks every morning to warm my plenteous folds?”
Monday, October 05, 2009
Detective Smee’s Diary Part I: Crepuscule a Smitty
Mr. Smitty is a good detective smitty!
Part One: Quayside, 5 PM
“Late Afternoon: I’ve scarfed down a “Mister’s Special” (the Usual) at the Glass Dish & Marbles (my regular dish) and have run off to preen, digest, snarf down a couple of blades of grass (for the teeth), and maybe – if I’m feeling frisky – cavort!
“There’s a past 4 o’clock kind of air to the day and that may mean some serious nesting in week-old tall grass for a boddhi-licious sunset and metabolical slow-to-a-crawl meditation of which we crepuscular types are wont to dig, ya dig?”
Part One: Quayside, 5 PM
“Late Afternoon: I’ve scarfed down a “Mister’s Special” (the Usual) at the Glass Dish & Marbles (my regular dish) and have run off to preen, digest, snarf down a couple of blades of grass (for the teeth), and maybe – if I’m feeling frisky – cavort!
“There’s a past 4 o’clock kind of air to the day and that may mean some serious nesting in week-old tall grass for a boddhi-licious sunset and metabolical slow-to-a-crawl meditation of which we crepuscular types are wont to dig, ya dig?”
Friday, October 02, 2009
Aunty Gravi-Smee
Mr. Smitty is an anti-gravismitty! (cf. previous (tedious)…viz., etc.)
He can tumble and jump and cavort! His claws are anti-gravitimational devices that allow him to hang precariously, climb avocado trees, and attempt – as he is recently
wont to do – to climb on the backs of moths in flight --
wont to do – to climb on the backs of moths in flight --
-- before consuming them (as a horse d’oover)!
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