Prurple Rain

I am greatly indebted to my fellow rabble-rouser Roxan today. As soon as I took a look at the list of Words Gone Wild she culled from the Net, I knew I had to look no further for something to blog about this evening. Not only did she provide the means to keep me from being forced to over-tax my already sore brain, but she also (perhaps unwittingly) delivered a subliminal message from Them. Normally, when a stray message from Them slips through the ether, I run screaming for the kitchen -- where the tinfoil is. Today, however, I decided to just roll with it. And see? It didn't hurt me. Of course, I'm sure it helped that I was already wearing double-folded, triple-strength foil.

natruraly prurple - See, now, normally I'm scared of the color purple. I don't wear it, and I tend to run from people who do. By receiving this message today, however, that this particular prurple is completely natrural, not to mention serenely bucolic, I'm not a bit scared of it any more. In fact, I laughed 'til my face turned prurple. Come to find out, I don't really look that bad in purple. Or prurple. So, in essence, They actually did me a favor. Neener-neener-neener!

spred - Yay-uss, brothhas and sistahs. I have spred mah wings today and gone prurple. Or purple. Or something. The thing is, I spread out my knowledge base. I won, not Them. This is a good thing. I'm always willing to try something new. Them has accidentally spred the word. Word!

fgactories - Okay, so, we're not going to talk about the fact that Them's message turned my fgactories purple. Ladies don't talk about their fgactories. Suffice it to say that mine are aching me and I'm going to have to go in search of one of those little pamblets that we heard about yesterday. Word of caution: They will often try to launch a sneak attack via the fgactories, so be wary. Frankly, we don't think foil pants would be carrying things too far. Better safe than sorry, after all. Plus, I've known a lot of Boy Scouts, and you know what they always say -- "Be Prepared."

recruted - They thought they were being sneaky, thinking they were going to use Their message to do some recruiting. All They succeeded in doing, though, was getting me to holler, "Oh, crut!" No Siree Bob, They ain't recruting me. I'm too wily for Them. They'll have to get up and start transmitting earlier in the morning to recrut me.

aparenmtly - I know what They are doing. Oh, yes, I am wise to Them's unearthly wiles and guile. They apparently think they can drive me insane with insane words, whereupon I'll become so ravingly insane that I'll insanely lie down and allow myself to be recruted like an insane person. As if! I'm wearing pruple foil now, I'll have you know. I am invincible. Or will be, when my fgactories stop hurting.

the coice is yours - Well, of course it is. I always make my own coices. Them's Voices try to run interference, but They're still sleeping when I get up early and wrap my head in foil. My mama didn't raise no dummies. She made a choice early on to raise her babies right. I had a tinfoil baby bonnet, which is only ... natrural.

I have to run out to the drugstore while there are still a few hours of daylight left, see if I can find a good coice of pill for my aching fgactories, which are apparently somewhere in my aparenmt natrural E-zone, which seems to be prurple and recruting nearby cheerleaders to kick a little harder at the moment.

Y'all be careful out there, and carry a big umbrella. It's raining prurple prose.

Transmission over and out.