Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Ghost of Comments Past or, Imaginary Love Letters to French Damsels I Know That Aren't French At All Nor Imaginary

Dearest Freida of the Bees,

Once upon a time you proffered, beyond the most excellente and ryghte gifte of beauteous cones of pine, tes pensées à moi and I took them to heart, which resides beneath the rib cage, and upon my journey though the wilds of Cuyahoga County in my quest for NaBloPoMojo I encountered, unaware of its surreptitious sneaking in a manner most stealthy, the vicious Dragonne of Dordogne, who sent my heart, which resides beneath the rib cage, into fits most opposite of lame duckery!

Alas and alack, Gemini of blasphemy!

Against my girded loins dressed in the manner of a superhero -- do not ask me of such things of the future, for the Lord Our God would strike me down for my sinfull dabbling in the balled crystal arts and you for having heard it! -- I was at a loss dans mon coeur et mon esprit, but not dans ma bouche for verily I swore thy most swearfull and vulgar oaths one shant ever wish to hear in thine Christian ears against this foul creature of the blackest pit!


Verily, I stole my sword from its scabbard and thrust it into the heart of this bestial beast of the bestiary and lo, found it stuck within its ribcage! Quelle horreur ! Oh, to have been Arthur at the stone and my weapon to have been that legendary blade which long ago was lost in the lake and awaits distribution!

Alas and alack, I was not in Brittany nor Wales but amongst the Gauls in the kingdom of France, once known to our Roman forebears as Gaul. Certainly I was not, and remain not, Great King Arthur, Lord of Camelot with the sultry MILF Guenevere at his side, but the foolish, lacking in moral fibre, a few draughts short of true courage, but always dashing, Rândale, chevalier de la belle France!


Distracting the wretched visage clawing the turf and surf -- for we were near the river's edge and it gets kind of surfy s'il fait du vent or if some jackass flyes by in his motorbateau trying to impress the local damsels, who usually remained distressed -- with a precious kitten -- for even the darkest minions of the Deceiver cannot resist such fluffy cuteness -- I called upon all of my meager strength to be strengthened with the inexorable strength of all the strongest angels; the cherubim, the seraphim, the archangels, and even the janitors of their angelic palaces in Heaven; pulled the sword lodged in the ribcage of the grotesque, malodorous woe whose gaze was fixed upon that cuddly, furry thynge and lopped its unnatural, horned and fanged head right off!

The Dragonne, not the kitten.

I watched with triumphant glee as the spattering blood trailed behind on the decapitated cap's rolling passage into the surfy turf and, at last, after much rolling as if the Lord God Himself were getting ready to light up, into the river where it would float into the sea and become a snacke for sharkes or eels or lampreys or Saxons.


Oh, genoux d'abeilles ! I searched and hunted far and wide, hither and yon, tither and dither, nord, sud, est et ouest and found no gold, no diamonds, no jewel-encrusted goblets lodged in neither the layre nor the bloody carcasse of this vile beast to repay you for your most excellente and ryghte giftes of cones of pine et tes pensées. Angry at having been tricked by all the tales from time immemorial, I sulked for days on end and even nights when I wasn't sleeping and dreaming of naked, er, Marge. Je restais triste and thus, after much divination of souls and finding my liquor cabinet empty, went to party down. Luckily, I heard a wonderfull songe and though ma voix is a great failure pour l'art de la chanson, I will do my best to synge it to thee:

J'ai donné à mon amour une cerise qui n'a eu aucun noyau
J'ai donné à mon amour un poulet qui n'a eu aucun os
J'ai donné à mon amour une histoire qui n'a eu aucun fin
J'ai donné à mon --

And then some unshaven, drunken paysan, nay, a beast, dressed in the vêtements of our Roman forebears, grabbed the lute from the chanteur and smashed it upon the castle staircase! I suppose that I should get to the Latin conjugation you asked for in order to complete my taskes: video of you singing, vides of you singing, videt of you singing, videmus of you singing, videtis of you singing, vident of you singing.

I hope and pray to Jupiter, Minerva, Chewie and the Ewoks and all the other puppets that you will be most pleased with my efforts to please for I have suffered much upon my journey through the wilds of Cuyahoga County and the piles of straynge and beseeching lettres from distant l'Afrique that awaited me upon my return where time and again I discovered that I have apparentlye come into millions of pounds of silver. I further pray to Mars and Pluto that swift Mercury sees this lettre find its way into your blessed hands.

À bientôt,

Rândale, Duc de Boeuf Bourguignon

23 comments:

pissed off patricia said...

Was there a mention of Animal House in all that pine cone, Camelot, frenchy sort of stuff?

La Belette Rouge said...

Funnier than Monty Python. My favorite lines:

even the janitors of their angelic palaces in Heaven....woe whose gaze was fixed upon that cuddly, furry thynge and lopped its unnatural, horned and fanged head right off!

and: the piles of straynge and beseeching lettres from distant l'Afrique that awaited me upon my return where time and again I discovered that I have apparentlye come into millions of pounds of silver.

ROFLOL!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Okay...ummm...huh?

Bruce Anderson said...

"the dragonne, not the kitten" - Thank god!

Dean Wormer said...

And then some unshaven, drunken paysan, nay, a beast, dressed in the vêtements of our Roman forebears, grabbed the lute from the chanteur and smashed it upon the castle staircase!

Did you spray mustard on your toga shortly thereafter sir knight?

Randal Graves said...

POP, even the frogs love that movie.

LBR, merci, but credit must go to FB for the NanoMojo ideas. I should start taking requests.

spartacus, see previous comment. There is, sort of, a method to the madness.

OJL, I think they'd revoke my ASPCA card if I beheaded a kitten, but I better check the bylaws just to be sure.

dean, was it over when the Burgundians trebucheted (is that even a verb?) Toulouse?

La Belette Rouge said...

Well now that you have done a post for Frieda I am looking forward to my shoe post. ;-)

Freida Bee said...

Mamma Mia!

Ye hath bestilled the stone beneath my borrowed rib.

Yea and Whoa, a message such as this of such obvious prestige and heartfelt heartfeltedness will linger in the labyrinth of my whateverthesmurf an eternidad, my Dear Duc de Boeuf Boullion.

Until my dying day (unless it's tomorrow), I shall seek to repay the intent one gazillionisheth-fold as to relay to you the import and so forth and such and such of this, your blessed NanoProBlemo filler.

Anonymous said...

the wilds of Cuyahoga County!

Isn't that an R.E.M. song?

Utah Savage said...

So does this mean you and Ms Bee are running away together?

Anonymous said...

Methinks it's best to quietly slink away while the Don Quixote is sleeping alongside the windmills. Shhhh...quiet now. And put some lithium in his drink so he won't notice the new meds. Seriously dude, you are demented, but in a good way!

Randal Graves said...

LBR, consider it done - if you have no problem with the shoes being fictional, for I've yet to purchase a new pair of sneakers in the real world. ;-)

FB, nay, thy rib is thine forevermore, ma chère femme de Texyse and linger it will for I have stolen the string and slaughtered the minotaur. Verily shall I hang his head upon my walle.

If thy end be met tomorrow, such a sadness will cloak ma coeur that I would write une chanson and have someone of actual tallente synge it for thy holiest of ghosties.

dcup, what's the frequency, blogger?

utah, I'm not sure that Mr. Bee and Mrs. Graves would be too keen on it but we don't have to tell them.

afeatheradrift, I'll take that as a compliment, thanks to the new meds. The old ones would've had me tearing my forearms hairs out.

Ubermilf said...

I can't decide if I'm impressed or frightened.

Life As I Know It Now said...

I want a post too. Books must be in mine.

susan said...

M. le Duc, That was fun and I liked the picture you drew of the dragon and the kitty. Perhaps instead of slaying it (dragon not kitty) you should have sent it to an undisclosed location for brunch.

Randal Graves said...

übermilf, this is The Land of the Free®, you can be both!

liberality, I knew I had opened a can of worms with that request thingy! I'll see what I can come up with.

susan, where the dragon could have dealt with the European ancestor of the CheneyBot. Dammit, that's ingenious!

Non Je Ne Regrette Rien said...

*pouts mightily in the Dordogne*

Randal Graves said...

Why are you pouting? I slayed the Dragonne and now Dordogne is safe for you to play French hostess. We'll be over at eight.

Anonymous said...

Randal, that is UNbelievably good!!! It's kind of like Spinal Tap Goes Elizabethan.

You make me wish I were back in college, reading and writing really cool stuff than working like a frickin' fool at stuff I can't stand for people I despise.

Anyway, enough of the current chapter of my existential grumblings.

One ditty that sparked my dullard's brain:

"Verily, I stole my sword from its scabbard and thrust it into the heart of this bestial beast of the bestiary and lo, found it stuck within its ribcage! Quelle horreur !"

You truly are, as I've always suspected, the consummate Renaissance Man !!!

Randal Graves said...

It's kind of like Spinal Tap Goes Elizabethan.

I suppose that's what I was going for, and it apparently worked!

I imagine that your line of work is far more taxing on the soul than mine, but everyone seems especially stupid today.

Since I'm un homme de renaissance, je danserai un galliard !

Betty Carlson said...

I'm NaBloPoMoing it too.

Don't you do that pretty much all of the time?

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