birds, For the. 1 - 781 sic passim

Of all the things Mummers has ever done to me, I will never, *ever* forgive her this one.

Oh my heavens, no.

As of this morning, I have been recruited -- in the midst of my busy season -- to be, basically (making a long description and explanation short), her typist; my Mommy fired the person who was helping her because she did not like something they did and is trying to prove something to Whomever, and I've been temporarily conscripted. And, of course, I am being paid Not One Red Cent for this.

Screw bastards; everybody's a total fucker. Srsly.

Bonus points for title's reference. Triple bonus points for finding all the things I am doing to Mummers' shit. I'm expecting most will survive once it's done. I mean, freaking *prove* that Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper, and Snork (1970) did not say half the things I say they did in a defunct journal.

In a foreign language.

At the moment, I am leaning towards Esperanto.

I'm betting no one will look that closely. Heh. Plus, I hear that they were quite prolific authors, and held opinion -- both expert and peer-reviewed -- on many varied topics. As did Momary, Douglas; Jo, Emmy; Hepo, Henrietta; Fraug, Frederic; and Aul, Charles (1977) in their monumental work, Review of the Zoological Neo-Garden. Far, far more interesting than the drivel Mummers is yammering on about.

Damn, I crack me the hell up.

Okay, okay...I am not *that* bad. But seriously, I AM stressing now. I do not need this. I get this, however, 'cos I am the most 'available' of her children, and she needs 'just a little help'. And yeah, I know -- I am the only one who laughs at my jokes. :-)

Sigh. I may not get to sleep again until like, March. She thinks things will change by Friday and she will get her way, but I do not believe her. Let us hope.

Double bonus points for...well, you know.

I want a nickel a word, or something. Fuckers.

bwaah.

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