Callithump? Is that you? It's me, Sondra! It's been over a year! What have you been up to? It is so good to see you! You look great!
I am so sorry that I haven't kept in touch but I have just been so busy. You know how life gets. Busy, busy, busy...what with my new production, The George Foreman Grill: The Musical, finally taking shape and my new chia pet, I totally let Callithump get away from me.
What do you mean you don't know who I am? I am Sondra Stinglash. The Sondra Stinglash. I live with my son, Eckhardt and a palpation slave who lives in our guest room. I can't believe you don't remember me. Remember my inner editor, Edna? Does that ring a bell? Edna and I gave birth to this here blog. People used to spit coffee onto their computer screens because of me. Those were great days.
But what happened was, just over a year ago, I got a near terminal case of Clown's Disease* and decided that I was going to dedicate my writing skills to serious pieces that would help people live better lives, blah, blah, blah...
But I have missed you, Callithump. It's great to be back.
*Clown's Disease is a syndrome that affects comedians and humorists who grow weary of being laughed at and react by turning to serious pursuits, such as writing novels and publishing blogs dedicated to extolling the benefits of bodywork and living a balanced life. The first official case of Clown's Disease was documented by Dr. Ivanov Rakhmelevich in the year 1912. His patient, Fyodor Prokopovic, a tiny clown with the Dimitrovgrad circus, was known for his popular and somewhat disturbing act that consisted of his swallowing an elaborate number of toy cars, one after another, and then spitting them out, a feat that would a elicit cries of, "I can't believe how many cars fit into that tiny clown!" Later, when Prokopovic's protege, Stevan Vlelekovich, gained instant popularity by reversing the idea and piled a ridiculous number of clowns into one tiny car, Prokopovic became despondent. Having been laughed at his entire career and then being outshone by his 19 year old protege, immediately following the now famous clown car act, Prokopovic developed an acute case of Clown's Disease. Within hours he exhibited the now classic symptoms: a decrease in shoe size, obsessive mustache stroking while repeating, "No one takes me seriously," and becoming an tax accountant. Dr. Rakmelevich spent countless hours with his patient, squirting him in the face with lapel flowers and having him open cans of nuts that sprang forth springy snakes. But to no avail. Prokopovic would only respond to Rakmelevich's treatments by informing him that he could write off the props he was using and then asking to see his receipts.
Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.