Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Fancy Bulleted Lists

Dearest of Dear Diaries,

Since I went ahead and got organized, I thought I might as well get started on tying up all these threads loosely dangling in the cavernous hollow of my brain.

The first of which, is to figure out the cause and nature of my 2pm fits.

Lucky for me, Unca Macbeth had a small dinner party last evening at which a lovely Caribbean lady and/or Bride of Satan was a guest. Her name was Hellcat or Hellkite, or Heh-cah-tay, or something sinister and exotic like that. Well, it turned out she had an amazing gift for hypnosis. Also possession, but we didn't have time for that seeing as how it was Banquo's Tuesday Night Streaking. I begged her to put me under, as they say, and endeavor to discover through discussion with my subconscious why I am victimized by these fits everyday at 2pm.

Oh DIARY! Discover she did!

She unearthed such a memory that it is a wonder I am able to be a marginally functional Little Prince at all.

When I was just a wee tyke, skipping fencing lessons in favor of snuggling the bunnies in mother's garden...a catastrophic event occurred.

It was a Saturday.

It was precisely 2pm.

I was enjoying my first ever batch of Scrumptious GoodTimes Snickerdoodles with Cook in the kitchen, when DonalBORING burst in, bloody dagger in hand, cackling madly and holding up the decapitated head of none other than my most favorite pet chicken, Edward. It was then that cook gleefully shouted "Well done, good master! We'll be having wings and special sauce tonight!"

Commence First Fit Having.

Oh, EDWARD. I had forgotten our adventures together. Preferring to purge you completely from my memory than deal with the pain of your brutal loss. Your noble bearing, your regal beak, your slightly hideous but still completely lovable feet...

I realize now why becoming ENRAGED prevents them. If I had simply thrown my steaming hot mug of spiced cider in DonalBORING's EVIL EYES and defended the honor of the savagely murdered Edward, surely I wouldn't have been crippled by a fainting spell.

Oh, curse my sensitive and delicate nature! I should have never allowed the soft translucence of my skin and penchant for wistful eyes dictate my behaviour!

No more! Now is the time...the fates conspire against me in all things...dare I mention the Keg-O-Blood. However, I know I must take control of my own destiny.

So I shall!

On to bullet point number TWO. What exactly is it that Father does? What sort of kingdom am I Not Quite Prince of?

Terribly Impassioned,

Y.B.P.M.

2 comments:

TheBlairZip said...

I didn't realize that everyone had these regularly scheduled episodes. 2pm fits, Unca's cat carnival, and Banquo's Tuesday streaking? Is it just Banquo, or does everyone else join in? It must be pretty special to eclipse Hecate's possession abilities. ;)

JessicaD said...

In my imagination it's just Banquo and his...cigar.