Thursday, May 6, 2010

Speeg Like a Lennon

The inquiry came to me thuswise: "Why are some of your posts tagged 'Jorking and Labbing'? What does that mean?"

It means, dear friend, that I have read entirely too much Lennon in my lifetime. In his wonderful book of "short writty", In His Own Write (for so it is called, for so it was named), John has a hilarious story called "Randolf's Party", about a man named Randolf (or Randolph, or Rangolf, or Randoff, or Randoob) who wonders why his friends have not come to visit him for the Christmas (or Chrisbus, or Chrispbut, or Chrustchove) season.

The story takes a weird and sudden (or surgeon) twist at the end, and it is here, when his friends arrive, that the key phrase appears (I have bold-typed the phrase in case your eyes are not so strong, and because bold-type makes me feel like I'm really beating the hell out of the keyboard):


All of a surgeon there was amerry timble on the door. Who but who could be a knocking on my door? He opened it and there standing who? but only his pals. Bernie, Dave, Nicky, Alice, Beddy, Freba, Viggy, Nigel, Alfred, Clive, Stan, Frenk, Tom, Harry, George, Harolb weren't they?

Come in old pals buddys and mates. With a big griff on his face Randoff welcombed them. In they came jorking and labbing shoubing 'Haddy Grimmble, Randoob.' and other hearty, and then they all jumbled on him and did smite him with mighty blows about his head crying, 'We never liked you all the years we've known you. You were never really one of us you know, soft head.'

They killed him you know, at least he didn't die alone did he? Merry Chrustchove, Randolf old pal buddy.


And there it is. Now you know.

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