Shmarla, The Rant du Jour, and the Cunning Fennec Fox

Written Yesterday and Today; Posted Today @ 0930 

15 July 2014

0717 hrs

Good morning yet again, Patient Reader!

            Here we are again; you to view yet another installment in the saga of the Cunning Fennec Fox; I to write said installment . . .

           

            Before I get started on my rant this AM, I would like to tell you of yesterday’s events.

            As you know I was expounding at medium length of this new person in my life, a woman whom I respect very much.  I respect her mind (we spoke of Pink Floyd 

and Socrates in the same few lines of dialogue), her sense of humor (for she truly cracks me up), and the generosity of her spirit.  Plus she has a heart that is bigger than all of me, and I am a pretty big cat.

            I do not yet know if she read the post from yesterday or not; I didn’t think to ask her, and she is not here right now (I am already in my office and she is getting ready for school).  But I do know that she had some things she got off of her chest (and it’s a great chest, if I may say so).

            Now as you know, Patient Reader (because I have said this many times), looks don’t matter to me.  

            But fortune, for some reason, smiled upon me and placed in my life a creature so lovely, so beautiful, my heart leaps every time I see her.  She’s tiny like a doll but built like a Brick House (thank you, Commodores).  She’s almost a foot and a half shorter than I am, and I instinctively treat her as a fragile China Doll . . . even though she is tough as nails and could probably take me two out of three.  Her looks could stop a fucking clock . . .

(c)  Properfessor

            So as I said yesterday, her biggest fear was the Unknown Me . . . 

that she could never see my Curriculum Vitae because there is no one from my distant past

 that can fill her in on the stories of my life.  I have explained to her my past; the darkness of some of me I was reluctant to share but did, anyway.



            I wonder what it says about me that she thinks there might be even more . . . things so bad I do not tell her about them.

            As I said above, I explained them to her; I did not excuse or even attempt to excuse them. 

            So my friend Shmaren comes around, and as it turns out, both she and this New Girl have to go over to Enrollment Services, so they left together.  Remember that Shmaren is the first friend I made here at school and knows me pretty darn well- longer and better than anyone else in the area. 

Apparently, Shmaren had some good things to say, for My Girl had a change of heart.  Here is what she (My Girl) texted me yesterday:

            “Tomorrow you can write on your blog that your baby is ready for the challenge,” she writes.  “You can say that she wants to ascertain that your promises are real, then she will entirely surrender to you . . .”

            Don’t worry, Patient Reader, she does not always speak in the Third Person.  She said we should give it a try . . . she’s in this 100%, and wants me to tell everyone how she feels.

            So there you have it, Patient Reader . . .  this is, hopefully, the beginning of something great.

            Pretty cheesy; yeah, I know . . .

            Now on to The Rant du Jour, if you are ready, Patient Reader  Shall I proceed?  Splendid! . . .

            Yesterday I read in BBC News that Israel and Palestine reached a truce agreement.  Today’s headline reads, “Israel hits Gaza as truce bid fails . . .”

            Then there’s the Afghan market bomb that kills 89.

              Moscow has a metro crash that leaves 19 dead.  

            Oscar Pistorius got in a bar fight because some drunk Kangaroo Fucker got in his face, 

presumably about the suspicious death of Ms. Steenkamp, the model girlfriend and her murder that is the reason for his trial.  You all know about that . . .

            Warplane bombs town in east Ukraine . . . U.S. loses trade spat to India and China.  CitiGroup has to pay $7 billion in a settlement . . . but we all know from where that 7 bil will come, don’t we?  Certainly not from the pockets of the executives.  More like the hard-earned cash of the clients whom they are charged to make financially secure.  Now, we all know how well that works out.  How many fortunes were lost in 2008?  Thanks Dubya, you shitty fuck.

            Ebola is running rampant in central Africa.  There is a plague of stoats and rats in New Zealand . . .  

no shit; that’s what it says . . .

            Dolphins attack porpoises . . . China admits trading in tiger skins . . .

            HIV re-emerges in ‘cured’ U.S. girl . . .  Libya in shock after airport attack- 8 dead, 12 planes damaged . . .

  France sets up anti-Islamist force . . .

Hieronymus Bosch

jesus the list goes on . . .

Blech

            “Haul of giant snails seized in LA . . .” WTF?  Seriously?   Apparently, these giant snails came from Nigeria . . . all 67 of them.  They were destined for a person in California when they were intercepted by U.S. Customs.  They were inspected by the U.S. Dept. of Agriculture and then they were incinerated because they “carry parasites that are harmful to humans, including one that can lead to meningitis.”  Fucking great.  I have treated many cases of meningitis, and it’s just not cool . . .

            “Japan enters the ‘dumbwalking’ era . . .”

            An article on bidets, fa chrissakes . . .  who gives a shit about bidets?

            So I think I have enough of a setup here to make my point, or points, whatever the case may be.  The world is some fucked up shithole, sometimes, isn’t it Patient Reader?

            What the hell are we doing?  We can’t go around killing the folks we made peace with the day before . . . all the while bombing the neighbors and giving ourselves and everyone else meningitis.  What the Fuck is up with that?

            Why are you all harshing on my mellow?  

            What did I do to piss y’all off, anyway?  Other than make it perfectly clear that people suck and I hate you all . . .  Except for you of course, Patient Reader . . . You know I think CFFers are the Crème de la Crème.

            We really need to get our shit together before the critters that accept Voyager’s invitation decide they’re gonna show up.  

            Right?  I mean, what the hell kind of impression are we going to make, playing a fucking Bait and Switch like that?  “Come accept our peaceful invitation and visit our Kind and Compassionate species, and watch us blow one another into itty-bitty bits . . .”  

Yeah, we all suck right now. 

       Come on!  Let’s live up to our potential!  Let’s do the right thing for fucking once.  

       Let’s, as a species, stop beating one another to death with the femurs of hippopotami 

and work together to isolate us and those we love from the terrible tawny face of the lion.  

       Why is that patch of dirt so important?  Of course, if it covers oil . . .  See, that’s what Iraq’s biggest mistake was:  keeping our oil under their sand. 

            I was interrupted this past half-hour by a smallish gaggle that required my Compassionate Ear.  Sweet Shmarah needed to vent.  Shmaustin’s Shmarah, not my Shmarah, the ballerina, I mean . . . My girl’s name is not Shmarah. 

       One venting in particular was the fact that her father’s autobiography is being published posthumously.  A Hot-Off-the–Presses book is on its way to her even as I write this. 

Irony

       This is not going to be a happy book.  Now, she is not as upset as her mother is, who insists there will be a lawsuit if the book is not filed under Fiction.

       Cynic that I am, I have my own suspicions for a posthumous publication:  One last dig at those he has hurt his whole life.  Why do I think that way?

        Because people suck.

       Shmerome was another one who sought my wisdom.  His brother died last month, and he has some things to say, too.  He needs an ear to bend . . . and if it wasn’t me, it would be someone who was not up to the task.  Thus is the Cross I Bear . . .

Many seek audience with me.  I do not require payment, but someday there may come a time where I ask of them a favor.  And a deal will be brokered that they simply cannot refuse.

So I guess I should get this up on the blog.  Class starts in 2 hours and I have a great deal to read before long.  So I shall leave y’all to it.  Do you think you’ll be ready for more tomorrow?  Splendid!

And always I remain, 



The Cunning Fennec Fox

P.S.  Thank you for your Patience, Reader