The Royal Smee

Mr. Smitty has a throne!

The fallen tree (wattle, uprooted itself in a storm, a seed fallen on sand…) provides a high perch from which The Smee can survey all he surveys and be outstanding in his field.

“The Misters’ve got all those chairs theyselves; why can’t I have one?”

[the aforesaid is not said so much as posited, projected, potential Smee-speech]

From this fallen tree of magnificent girth, The Smee can lord it over his peeps, check the surrounding fields, hillocks, copses and gentle declivities for various vermin, chickens, pheasants, cardinals, chucks, and those little fluorescent-green-bellied birds that have been barely a snack for the Smee in days of yore.

All hail the enthroned Smee!

Smutty Smitty Part II: Picket or Lick it

“Smut! Smut! Smut!”
“Mr. Smee! Mr. Smee! Mr. Smee!”
(Cut to: Housewives carrying signs, marching in crosswalks as they collect their kids from school)
“It’s outrageous!”
“Smut! That’s the only word for it!”
“Mr. Smee!”
(That was a Mister trying to get on camera to wave to the Smitty at home.)
“Who’re the owners, we’d like to know!” scream the moms.
(Man in trenchcoat ducks through the crowd with folded newspaper over his head.)
“Stop that man! He’s wearing a “Mister Smitty” t-shirt!”
[Actually, it’s a “Mister Smee-tee-tee” (available in Bone, Tan, and Black, $16.95 at the “$mitty” link)]
[This pop-up has been blocked. We apologize for our colleagues in the Filthy Lucre Dept. who spell “tragedy” as “marketing opportunity.”]


17:

Smutty Smitty Part I: Pay Dirt

Mr. Smitty is a dirty smitty!

The odd correspondence between the words “smitty” and “smutty” (purely coincidental – except, perhaps to your average man-on-the-street ancient Indo-European) bears inquiry (c.f. as-yet-unwritten blog entries on this (lexoco-) graphic subject matter).

But today’s “dirt” of is of the literal, physical, “refreshingly un-metaphorical” kind.

The Smitty was covered in a fine film which, after heavy petting (and some unwelcome brushing) barely diminished isself in color or weight.

Even after a brief hiatus, upon the Misters’ return, The Smee was still found to be thoroughly un-immaculate, tainted Smee.

Dismembereds Only

Mister Smitty ate a bird!

This is the 2nd or 3rd recorded “birding” of the Smee [Get Archives on the blower].

He was discombobulated while drinking his water and forced to pursue the pesky disturb-ating birds who were disporting theyselves in the large spikey plant [Greenus Spikeythingus].
The Smitty dove headfirst into the aforesaid plant and grabbed the aforesaid bird. Eschewing the porch as a place to chew the aforesaid,

(“Get your four paws on Terra Firma, Jack!” – old cat saying)

-- The Smee proceeded to plink plink plink his way down the steps to his “killing floor”

-- his sacred precinct of avian (or rodentian) dismemberment and consumptionation.