Let Them Eat Fruitcake

Now that the Fruitcake Lady is dead and I am (one of these days, and not as far off as it once was, either) going to be a lady of a certain age, perhaps I could assume the mantle of her authority. I can dole out advice and tell other people how to manage their lives. No problema! I can't run my own life for squat, but we're not going to talk about that. That might be a pretty good job for me. I know some of y'all would be very good at helping me out with answering the fruitcake questions, too.





Boudreaux

Boudreaux, a Cajun highlander from Rapides Parish in central Louisiana, was an older, single gentleman, who was born and raised a Baptist, living in South Louisiana.

Each Friday night after work, he would fire up his outdoor grill and cook a venison steak. Now, all of Boudreaux's neighbors were Catholic ... and since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating meat on Fridays. The delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest.

The priest came to visit Boudreaux, and suggested that Boudreaux convert to Catholicism.

After several classes and much study, Boudreaux attended Mass ... and as the priest sprinkled holy water over him, he said, "You were born a Baptist and raised a Baptist, but now you are a Catholic."

Boudreaux's neighbors were greatly relieved, until Friday night arrived, and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison filled the neighborhood.

The priest was called immediately by the neighbors and, as he rushed into Boudreaux's yard, clutching a rosary and prepared to scold him, he stopped in amazement and watched.

There stood Boudreaux, clutching a small bottle of water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat, and chanted: "You wuz born a deer, and you wuz raised a deer, but now you a catfish."

More fruitcake, in the form of Twisted Linguistics

responce - To sponce and sponce again. We're not sure what sponcing is.

irrevelant - An heretical but immaterial ghost (revenant).

alledgedly - Al led the G.E.D.ly crowd.

romantiac - A serial killer who brings flowers and wine.

stoke of a pen - When everything else flammable is gone and you're down to using your pens and pencils for kindling to stoke the fire.













Dear TWIT,

There's this lady I know who has a really bad case of the butt for you right now. She suffers from estrogen poisoning every full moon but, otherwise, she's okay. The thing is, she sent you her manuscript while she was in the throes of a slight psychotic break. She's better now and realizes she made a big mistake. When she asked you for her book back, you apparently told her to go perform an anatomically unlikely act upon herself and she is much aggrieved. I am, therefore, doing my civic duty and warning you that she just bought an Uzi. A pink one. I'd give her the book back if I were you. It's not that good, anyway, and she couldn't sell caviar to starving millionaires. It's not going to make either one of you any money. Give it back. Or get a Kevlar vest. Please don't make me have to give her any more bad news. You don't even want to know what she can do -- and did -- with a Samurai sword.

Sincerely,
Concerned Citizen
__________________
Dear TWIT,

Y'all are always begging for apologies, so I just want to say I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to send the fake immigration officer to see you. I never should have sicced that phony FCC lady on you. I admit it was stupid to call and tell you there was an imaginary SWAT team outside your door. I shouldn't have sent the bogus stripper to Betty's birthday party, either. Who knew she'd get so into it? I admit it, I get bored and need a drama fix every now and then. But I'm sorry. And I hope that you will now set your hellhound of a lawyer on me and threaten to revoke my contract.

Sincerely,
The Faker Queen

P.S. Oh, the FBI forensic accountant, US Marshal, and IRS agent who will show up at your office today at noon? They're for real.
___________________
Dear TWIT,

I would like to know why I can't call a twit a twit.

I would like to know how you feel your Great Debater did. Are you as embarrassed as you should be?

I would like to know why you have not replied to my now week-old letter asking to be let the hell out of my Satan's spawn of a contract.

I would like to know why there have been mass releases from your dungeons lately and, more importantly, where in blazes MY release from you is.

I would like to know why my password to your stupid boards no longer works. Yeah, it's stupid. Neener-neener-neener. That doesn't mean I don't want to see what your quasi-literates are saying. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.

I would like to know if you're any closer to tucking your tails and running.

I would like to know which one of you thought up the CYA idea of "fast-tracking/no editing."I know you're going to hold up my release now that I've asked you these impertinent questions. I admit it, that scares the bejesus out of me, but not as much as the thought of being bound to you for five more years.

Sincerely,
Call Me Curious and Yellow

You Are an Afternoon Person

You can find energy any time of the day ... or night! You prefer to be out and about when most other people are. Very early mornings or very late nights aren't really your thing. You're practically solar powered, and the afternoon is when do best.

Are You a Morning Person or Night Person?