Saturday, April 12, 2008

The personal history and experience of Ric Jensen

Dodie and Ric kindly reply with their MadLib version of Ric's fake memoir

The sound woke me from a dead sleep. I rolled over, curled up in the fetal position, and blinked at the candle piercing my eyes to the back of my skull. My head was pounding, my fingers gold, and there was an incessant firesnapping in my ears.

[Ed Note: they have mutually awful handwriting. even her translation of his original appears to say firesnapping. Unless this is fire snapping...I have no idea what this emans. except now we have a title for the sequel..."]

"Who are you?" I said, unable to see how many of them there were. "Where am I?"
Then it all came back to me.

I remembered that I had left my Cousin Debbie's home just last Thursday, tired of the floggings with wet checkered dishtowel, and thinking only of my next score of Dozy Doodles. I'd been hard-pounding since I was 8 and now all I cared about was getting more. Throwing together a valise of jeans, a sweatshirt, pillbox and fancy soap, I had taken to Highway 37. I didn't know where I was going, but I already knew where I'd been.

I already knew what it was like to whisper over a Windsor chair and sniffle out brick...already knew how to mortar for cash without smacking... already knew that "Viele-Hande machen leichte arbeit." Now I wanted to know what it was like to feel Bitchen.........

Actually, what I think they have written is A Clockwork Orange.

I'm working out a new MadLib, Dr Suess style:

One morning where the [rhymes with fleegle-floggle] blooms,
Sat a [rhymes with tum-rum-drummer] and a [rhymes with blooms].

I don't think you're really a doctor.....Suess.

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